Oooo boy howdy. What a week. It's honestly weeks like this one that remind me of why I should not be let out in public unsupervised. Hell, I should not be let out in public supervised. Especially in a place like Germany. Sheesh.
One of the great things about learning German in Germany is the fact that there are certain social constructs that you just can't duplicate in the classroom. While a professor in the states can say "in Germany, they do things this way, don't do this" I think advice like that is best stored in the long-term memory bank when you're actually here, screwing up royally. Let's discuss.
I'm still baffled by what I'm about to type. It just doesn't make sense to me. Wednesday, Brice and John came over because the Heimbar in my building was having a BBQ/drink fest for the new students who had just moved in. As a side note, most of the dorm complexes through the university have a bar. I'm lucky enough to live in the same building as mine, so three nights a week, I don't get to go to bed until 2:00 a.m. Germans like to party. LATE. Like super late. When I get invited out, they don't actually go out until midnight. Like they get started at midnight (not they are at home prefunking and then go out at midnight). I can't get used to it. I'm an old lady for crying out loud! I'm in bed by 2 at the latest. Some of the clubs here stay open until 7. 7 a.m.! WTF???
I digress. So anyway, Brice and John came over and we ventured downstairs. First off, they had whiskey. Granted it was Jim Bean, I was not going to be particular about the type of whiskey I imbibed because I was so freaking excited to actually see whiskey. The kicker: a double shot with coke was 1,50 euro. 1,50! I think we can all see where this is going....
So yes, I got a little inebriated. Not freak out, throw up pass out inebriated, but just drunk enough that I was super, super friendly with everyone we met. It's always a good way for me to make friends. Never mind the language barrier; we all speak the international language of sloshed. We eventually left my heimbar and walked over to John's heimbar, which is actually on campus. There were tons more people there (but still cheap booze). We went downstairs where there was a dance floor and I started to get my groove on. They were playing some AWESOME music: old school J-Lo, Daddy Yankee, etc. Maaaybe they played the Macarena. And maybe I remembered how to dance it. And maybe all the Germans watched me for the dance moves. Maybe. I'm not going to confirm nor deny that this actually happened.
So here comes the interesting part. Despite the fact that Germans talk about sex non-stop; despite the fact that I have seen Germans having sex in public; despite the fact that Germans don't mind being naked all the time, they DO NOT grind on the dance floor. When Brice and I went out on the floor and started dancing, like Americans typically do at a club playing hip hop and rap, we got some of the dirtiest stares. Like we were sacrificing children or bunny rabbits right in the middle of the dance floor. I looked around and it appeared as though all the other Germans dancing had at least a foot between them.
You've got to be kidding me, Germany.
You have no problem with public sex or talking about sex all the time, but heaven FORBID you grind on the dance floor. God might smite you right there!
A girl I had met earlier in the night came up to the two of us later and said that we must be very good friends, implying that we were a couple. I laughed and told her we just dance like that in America. She looked shocked. She then told me that I was a very powerful woman. Which made me laugh even harder. I think this is why German women wear obscenely large heels when they go out dancing--they are not actually dancing. They are just moving back and forth a foot away from their respective dance partner.
In other news, yesterday we went to the grand opening of the new mall in Saarbruecken. The funny thing is that this mall is just a big collection of the stores that already exist along the Bahnhofstrasse. So this makes 3 H&Ms in Saarbruecken, all within a two mile radius of each other. But they did have a Fossil stores, which made me super excited because I needed a new pair of sunglasses. I didn't actually find a *cheap* pair of sunglasses, but I did find a new wallet, which is awesome because I've been carrying my money and credit cards around in a pencil bag. As I was going to check out, one of the gentlemen working there came up to me and started talking to me. I'm a somewhat friendly person, so I started talking with him. I introduced myself, because it seemed like the nice thing to do, and he brought me a free canvas bag and a tin. Score! He also told me his last name and where he lived. All right... As we were leaving the store, Brice was just shaking his head. When I asked him what the problem was, he told me that in Germany, people are not so friendly with the salespeople.
"He's totally expecting you to look him up in his city."
"What? No. I was just being nice!"
"No, you were flirting. People in Germany don't make friends with their salespeople. They go in, buy their stuff and leave. They especially don't ask for their names."
"Well I do! We had like a five minute conversation--it seemed like the polite thing to do! And I got a free bag out of it, so whatever."
Kind of makes me wonder how many salespeople in this city think I am hitting on them. This would explain why the people who work at the bakeries and stores I frequent are always super nice to me. Either they are happy to see someone smiling or wearing colors, or they are expecting me to take them to a nice dinner and have sex with them later.
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Friday, October 22, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Dresden, Leipzig and fortresses, oh my!
So maybe I could write about all the awesome things one can do in East Germany. But it's kind of one of those things where you would get bored reading about its complete awesomeness. So I'm gonna do what I do best--rant about some shit, throw in an occasional recommendation, and say "shit" a lot.
I have to be honest--Dresden and Leipzig were not cities that were on my radar to visit. In fact, I'd only in passing heard of these two places. I'm not entirely familiar with the history of Germany, which is probably something I need to look into. I mean, I know about the fall of the Berlin wall and reunification and all that jazz, but as far as the nitty, gritty nuances, nada. Zip. Zilch. If there's a course at BSU, I will take it. I don't think I want to learn about German history in German. That might be a bit advanced for me. But it would be interesting to hear their take on things and then take the course in Idaho. Hmm...maybe. Maybe.
So anyway, back to Dresden and Leipzig. Dresden was pretty freaking cool. There was SO MUCH TO DO. It's one of the shitty things about only having a few days in large cities: you sort of have to pick and choose what you are going to do. If I could recommend one awesome thing, I would have to say the Deutsch Hygiene Museum.
http://www.dhmd.de/neu/index.php?id=204
It was BY FAR the coolest thing. Their current exhibit, in English, was entitled "what is beautiful." It was all about how people perceive beauty and attractiveness. It was pretty freaking sweet. And it totally made me never want to eat ever again. Apparently Germany's definition of beauty is skinny, blonde and symmetrical. Not to mention, the permanent exhibit was fun as well. I was particularly fond of their entire exhibit dedicated to human sexuality. It was basically porn. And who doesn't love porn?
We also went to an art museum in the Zwinger where I saw the original, ORIGINAL Raphael's cherubs. Sweet.
Email me for more recommendations on Dresden (or check out my photos on facebook...coming soon).
In between Dresden and Leipzig, we went to a fortress that I can't remember the name of and a bridge, which I also cannot remember the name of. I took pictures, so I'm sure some sort of indication as to what these places were are in there, but I just know that traveling around and hiking up hills with my 40 lb. travel backpack made me extremely grumpy and irritable. And I was not that impressed. I figured all that energy exerted to see these things would have at least produced something freaking awesome. No. No it did not. Well, I guess the fortress was pretty cool, but the bridge? Nein. I did get some good photos, though.
Leipzig may very well be my favorite city in Germany so far. Come to find out, the group I traveled with didn't really enjoy Leipzig. I believe I enjoyed it so much because I got to do what I wanted to do without being herded around by a 20-year-old.
Oh wait, let me digress. I waited a few days to write this blog in the event that I was just exhausted and my feelings about the travel situation were the result of lack of sleep. Having slept on it a few days, I feel as though I'm adequately prepared and well-rested enough to write this section.
My mother used to tell me that you don't really know someone until you travel with them. This is something I have found to be very true. People can be totally awesome until you get them out of their element, and then they turn into crazy assholes. So let's talk about the people I traveled with. I don't really have a whole lot of qualms presently, except for the fact that my entire trip was dictated by the desires of a narcissistic 20-year-old. Maybe it's because I'm older (and yes, there is a BIG difference between 26 and 20. At least I can legally drink in the states). Maybe it's because I like to travel alone (or at the very least, go where I want to go when I want to go). Maybe it's because I didn't really know this particular person very well before traveling with them. But DEAR FREAKING GOD. I've never come so close to punching someone in the nads. I know, I know, I know. Those of you that know me know that I have very little patience. And I probably should have recognized this particular personality trait of mine a little earlier in the trip and just gone off on my own. But alas, it wasn't until we were in Leipzig, when I got out of the shower in the hostel (mind you, there was only one shower for the four of us), walked into the room, and this boy proclaimed that HE was ready to go (never mind that I hadn't even had a chance to get dressed) that I finally decided that I had had enough traveling with him and would be exploring Leipzig on my own. And it was glorious. While the other three spent their day going to the movies and eating, I walked around the entire southern part of the city, saw amazing monuments and explored the state cemetery (I totally found someone that was 107--NUTS!). *sigh* So wonderful.
So anyhoo, let's just pull a 180 and go back to Leipzig. If you have a chance to visit this city, I wholeheartedly recommend it. There are TONS of restaurants, lots of museums, the city itself is BEAUTIFUL and there were lots of demonstrations. Of particular note should be the Thomaskirche or the Bach Museum. It's so weird to wander through these old, old towns and know that people, like Bach, or Martin Luther, or Mozart totally did the same thing long, long ago. I LOVE it.
After traveling around for a week, it was good to be back and sleeping in my own bed. Especially because the hostel in Leipzig was, how shall we say, fucking sketchy. Like we didn't have locks on our doors. And we were suspiciously close to this bar where I'm pretty sure should I have wanted to score some ecstasy, it would have been readily available. And no one was ever around. Like if you wanted to find the owners, they were probably at the bar across the way doing lines of blow. I'm just saying. They do get points for being in a good location and for being super close to the Texas BBQ place, where yes, we did eat. This place was awesome. It looked like Texas had thrown up all over the restaurant. What more could an American ask for??
This next weekend, I'm going to Trier, which is the oldest city in Germany. I'm pretty excited. And then traveling will be suspended for a while since I just BOUGHT MY PLANE TICKET HOME for Christmas. YAY!
I have to be honest--Dresden and Leipzig were not cities that were on my radar to visit. In fact, I'd only in passing heard of these two places. I'm not entirely familiar with the history of Germany, which is probably something I need to look into. I mean, I know about the fall of the Berlin wall and reunification and all that jazz, but as far as the nitty, gritty nuances, nada. Zip. Zilch. If there's a course at BSU, I will take it. I don't think I want to learn about German history in German. That might be a bit advanced for me. But it would be interesting to hear their take on things and then take the course in Idaho. Hmm...maybe. Maybe.
So anyway, back to Dresden and Leipzig. Dresden was pretty freaking cool. There was SO MUCH TO DO. It's one of the shitty things about only having a few days in large cities: you sort of have to pick and choose what you are going to do. If I could recommend one awesome thing, I would have to say the Deutsch Hygiene Museum.
http://www.dhmd.de/neu/index.php?id=204
It was BY FAR the coolest thing. Their current exhibit, in English, was entitled "what is beautiful." It was all about how people perceive beauty and attractiveness. It was pretty freaking sweet. And it totally made me never want to eat ever again. Apparently Germany's definition of beauty is skinny, blonde and symmetrical. Not to mention, the permanent exhibit was fun as well. I was particularly fond of their entire exhibit dedicated to human sexuality. It was basically porn. And who doesn't love porn?
We also went to an art museum in the Zwinger where I saw the original, ORIGINAL Raphael's cherubs. Sweet.
Email me for more recommendations on Dresden (or check out my photos on facebook...coming soon).
In between Dresden and Leipzig, we went to a fortress that I can't remember the name of and a bridge, which I also cannot remember the name of. I took pictures, so I'm sure some sort of indication as to what these places were are in there, but I just know that traveling around and hiking up hills with my 40 lb. travel backpack made me extremely grumpy and irritable. And I was not that impressed. I figured all that energy exerted to see these things would have at least produced something freaking awesome. No. No it did not. Well, I guess the fortress was pretty cool, but the bridge? Nein. I did get some good photos, though.
Leipzig may very well be my favorite city in Germany so far. Come to find out, the group I traveled with didn't really enjoy Leipzig. I believe I enjoyed it so much because I got to do what I wanted to do without being herded around by a 20-year-old.
Oh wait, let me digress. I waited a few days to write this blog in the event that I was just exhausted and my feelings about the travel situation were the result of lack of sleep. Having slept on it a few days, I feel as though I'm adequately prepared and well-rested enough to write this section.
My mother used to tell me that you don't really know someone until you travel with them. This is something I have found to be very true. People can be totally awesome until you get them out of their element, and then they turn into crazy assholes. So let's talk about the people I traveled with. I don't really have a whole lot of qualms presently, except for the fact that my entire trip was dictated by the desires of a narcissistic 20-year-old. Maybe it's because I'm older (and yes, there is a BIG difference between 26 and 20. At least I can legally drink in the states). Maybe it's because I like to travel alone (or at the very least, go where I want to go when I want to go). Maybe it's because I didn't really know this particular person very well before traveling with them. But DEAR FREAKING GOD. I've never come so close to punching someone in the nads. I know, I know, I know. Those of you that know me know that I have very little patience. And I probably should have recognized this particular personality trait of mine a little earlier in the trip and just gone off on my own. But alas, it wasn't until we were in Leipzig, when I got out of the shower in the hostel (mind you, there was only one shower for the four of us), walked into the room, and this boy proclaimed that HE was ready to go (never mind that I hadn't even had a chance to get dressed) that I finally decided that I had had enough traveling with him and would be exploring Leipzig on my own. And it was glorious. While the other three spent their day going to the movies and eating, I walked around the entire southern part of the city, saw amazing monuments and explored the state cemetery (I totally found someone that was 107--NUTS!). *sigh* So wonderful.
So anyhoo, let's just pull a 180 and go back to Leipzig. If you have a chance to visit this city, I wholeheartedly recommend it. There are TONS of restaurants, lots of museums, the city itself is BEAUTIFUL and there were lots of demonstrations. Of particular note should be the Thomaskirche or the Bach Museum. It's so weird to wander through these old, old towns and know that people, like Bach, or Martin Luther, or Mozart totally did the same thing long, long ago. I LOVE it.
After traveling around for a week, it was good to be back and sleeping in my own bed. Especially because the hostel in Leipzig was, how shall we say, fucking sketchy. Like we didn't have locks on our doors. And we were suspiciously close to this bar where I'm pretty sure should I have wanted to score some ecstasy, it would have been readily available. And no one was ever around. Like if you wanted to find the owners, they were probably at the bar across the way doing lines of blow. I'm just saying. They do get points for being in a good location and for being super close to the Texas BBQ place, where yes, we did eat. This place was awesome. It looked like Texas had thrown up all over the restaurant. What more could an American ask for??
This next weekend, I'm going to Trier, which is the oldest city in Germany. I'm pretty excited. And then traveling will be suspended for a while since I just BOUGHT MY PLANE TICKET HOME for Christmas. YAY!
Saturday, October 9, 2010
The Traveling Bug (again)
One of the great things about living in Europe is the close proximity to amazing travel destinations. I have two weeks off from school, for whatever reason (I'm assuming it's because my instructors are now at the point where they just can't handle our terrible German) so the possibilities of where to go were endless. I was considering going to Spain, but unfortunately, due to the heightened security risk and travel warning issued by the U.S. government for American citizens in Europe, I decided to stay in Germany. Luckily for me, the Oregonians (the collective group of students studying here from OSU) asked me if I would be interested in joining them on a trip to Dresden and Leipzig. Of course I would! I could not imagine spending my two week break here in Saarbruecken when so much of Germany is left undiscovered.
Dresden and Leipzig were two cities I hadn't even considered visiting, nor did I really know much about them. Thank you, Fromer's Guide Book for Germany for providing me with ample fun and exciting things to do in both cities. I think it is going to be a great trip.
This week went a lot better, aside from my little brush with food poisoning (Thursday I spent sprawled across the rug in my room, the trash can at arm's length away, afraid to move because such movement induced massive amounts of retching from your's truly). I've been exercising more, since it is not raining (OMG, it's like a gift from God), and I've come to really enjoy the numerous trails behind my apartment. There is a wonderful loop that takes me about an hour, has several steep hill climbs and amazing views of the forest/mountains/neighboring towns. I'm thinking tomorrow I will take my camera. It is so, so beautiful. Sometimes I pull a Walden and just stop and stare. I can't help it. With everything so crazy and life so stressful, I feel completely at ease when I'm on this run/hike/walk. I don't want it to end (although there is something in the forest that I am apparently allergic to, because when I get home after my run, I'm covered in hives). I'm really not looking forward to winter hitting here, but I don't think that will stop me from exploring more of the Stadtwald (City Forest).
I also emailed/chatted with several friends this week, which always helps me. It's weird to think that the next time I see most of these people, a year will have passed. I wonder what I will be like in a year. Will I be the same? Will I be different? Will my desire to be in Boise for the rest of my life leave when winter descends on the Valley and I'm working and going to school and wanting to be back in Germany? I don't know. I know this is an amazing experience, and I'm trying to take in as much as I can.
For now, I'm off to clean my "apartment." I hate coming back after traveling and having it dirty or smelling funky. Sick. But I'll be sure to write all about my travels in East Germany!
Dresden and Leipzig were two cities I hadn't even considered visiting, nor did I really know much about them. Thank you, Fromer's Guide Book for Germany for providing me with ample fun and exciting things to do in both cities. I think it is going to be a great trip.
This week went a lot better, aside from my little brush with food poisoning (Thursday I spent sprawled across the rug in my room, the trash can at arm's length away, afraid to move because such movement induced massive amounts of retching from your's truly). I've been exercising more, since it is not raining (OMG, it's like a gift from God), and I've come to really enjoy the numerous trails behind my apartment. There is a wonderful loop that takes me about an hour, has several steep hill climbs and amazing views of the forest/mountains/neighboring towns. I'm thinking tomorrow I will take my camera. It is so, so beautiful. Sometimes I pull a Walden and just stop and stare. I can't help it. With everything so crazy and life so stressful, I feel completely at ease when I'm on this run/hike/walk. I don't want it to end (although there is something in the forest that I am apparently allergic to, because when I get home after my run, I'm covered in hives). I'm really not looking forward to winter hitting here, but I don't think that will stop me from exploring more of the Stadtwald (City Forest).
I also emailed/chatted with several friends this week, which always helps me. It's weird to think that the next time I see most of these people, a year will have passed. I wonder what I will be like in a year. Will I be the same? Will I be different? Will my desire to be in Boise for the rest of my life leave when winter descends on the Valley and I'm working and going to school and wanting to be back in Germany? I don't know. I know this is an amazing experience, and I'm trying to take in as much as I can.
For now, I'm off to clean my "apartment." I hate coming back after traveling and having it dirty or smelling funky. Sick. But I'll be sure to write all about my travels in East Germany!
Friday, September 10, 2010
Death by German Tongue
I want all my readers to know that half the battle in writing these blog updates is coming up with a title. It was always the hardest part of being an English major--coming up with witty and captivating titles for my essays. I hated it. Almost as much as I hate writing conclusions. Why should there be a conclusion? I don't need to wrap anything up! Yeesh.
Okay, yes, I've had a few drinks tonight, but only a few, I swear. And here's the thing: I'm only here for a year. I need to experience as much as the culture as possible, yeah? I think there are over 400 different types of beers in Germany. And I plan on trying every single one. That's a lot of work for one person but as they say, when in Rome. Or in this case, when in Saarbruecken.
I tried to find a time to write this blog when I had not imbibed a few tasty brews but alas, this is as sober as I am going to get. I guess it makes for a more entertaining rant.
So today marked day two of class for yours truly. The first day was yesterday, where they handed out the syllabus, a timetable, etc. So I was really only in class for an hour. Today was a bit longer as we actually learned some German. All I can say is these courses are going to kill me. I have, on average, 5 hours of German a day, starting at 8:15 a.m. I want to know whose idea it was to start class at 8:15? Do the professors really want to be there? I don't think so. I mean, fuck, we're in Germany! Aren't they out drinking on weeknights, too? This just seems absurd to me. Not only that, I go straight through until 1:00, except on Thursdays when I go until 2:30. I think this is because I have Wednesdays off. Because it makes total sense to give me Wednesday off but make me go to class on a Friday. WTF?
Neither here nor there. Let's talk about my class. There are roughly 30 students, all of the same level of Deutsch as me, and it is CHALK FULL of Bosnians. I mean, half the class must be from Bosnia. Sorry to be a total Westerner, but I don't even know where the fuck Bosnia is, or at least I couldn't point it out on a map. All I know is that it is in the general direction of Eastern Europe, i.e. countries I have no intention of visiting, thank you. In addition to the Bosnians, there are four Americans, some girls from Korea, a few people from Iraq and a girl from Argentina and another from Cuba. The one thing we all have in common: we all speak little to no German. In fact, dare I say I may have known more German than some of the people in that class. I know, I know, hold back your shock. But the good news is, I'm fairly confident that by the end of this six month stint, I'm going to be at least semi-fluent in German. I found out there is a test at the end of the term (February 18th) that we have to score a 60% or better on in order to proceed to the next level of German, i.e. DK II. If not, we have to take the same level over again.
I have already made it my mission to score the highest grade on this test. Blame it on my type A personality, but I've spent 3 years in a degree where I'm lucky to even pass my fucking courses, let alone get the highest grade. So all these students better watch out. I mean, shit, I watched three hours of "Popstars" today, all in German, which I think is the equivalent of our "American Idol" but it is only for girls. In fact, the tagline is "Girls Forever" or some bullshit like that. The show is HORRIBLE, like maybe worse than horrible, but it's like a train wreck. I cannot stop watching. I have no clue what anyone is saying, but I'm fairly certain crushed dreams is something that does not require words. I just wish one of them was more like Simon. They are German for Christ's sake. They should just have to speak to crush dreams. They could tell me I have the most beautiful eyes in the world and my voice is made of rainbows and I'd believe they were trying to suck my soul out with their words. Case in point:
On a different note, one of the judges is in a band called Die Happy, which I happened to look up because, well, I had an open afternoon, and I actually quite enjoy them. Here is a video:
There is just something funny to me about Germans who sing in English. I think it's because German just doesn't translate well lyrically. Anyway. They have a concert in Saarbruecken in December, so I'm pretty stoked about that.
In other news...
Last night, Brice and I went to this lovely restaurant called Gasthaus Zahn (which I actually think translates to the "teeth restaurant" but whatever). I was so freaking hungry because I've been living on cheese and apples and cherry tomatoes, and despite the fact that Paris Hilton might consider this a healthy diet, I was about to die. So I might have overdone it with the food. But it was so, so worth it. And so were the three beers I had last night. And in the event that my mother is reading this, I am only drinking twice a week, so don't remind me that beer packs on pounds. I'm quite aware of this. Remember, I'm walking everywhere. If I'm not losing weight, I'm at least balancing some shit out. Leveling the playing filed. Ya know.
This evening, Katrin and I went to this lovely Brazilian bar and, dare I say, I may have gotten ahead of myself with the alcohol. But it was so good! And there was a young man playing the acoustic guitar like I've never seen. And everyone in the audience started to join in with tambourines and maracas. It was a lot of fun. I am definitely going to have to go back there.
Oh, and I finally got my PIN to my debit card from the bank today, and it's about fucking time because I'm sick of being ass-raped every time I make a cash withdrawal with my Mastercard. UGH. They send EVERYTHING separately, so I've received like 14 different pieces of mail with 14 different codes that I apparently need. The only one I care about is the one that gives me cash, bitches.
I think that is all for now. I must go to bed because we are going to France in the morning. Please contain your jealousy.
Okay, yes, I've had a few drinks tonight, but only a few, I swear. And here's the thing: I'm only here for a year. I need to experience as much as the culture as possible, yeah? I think there are over 400 different types of beers in Germany. And I plan on trying every single one. That's a lot of work for one person but as they say, when in Rome. Or in this case, when in Saarbruecken.
I tried to find a time to write this blog when I had not imbibed a few tasty brews but alas, this is as sober as I am going to get. I guess it makes for a more entertaining rant.
So today marked day two of class for yours truly. The first day was yesterday, where they handed out the syllabus, a timetable, etc. So I was really only in class for an hour. Today was a bit longer as we actually learned some German. All I can say is these courses are going to kill me. I have, on average, 5 hours of German a day, starting at 8:15 a.m. I want to know whose idea it was to start class at 8:15? Do the professors really want to be there? I don't think so. I mean, fuck, we're in Germany! Aren't they out drinking on weeknights, too? This just seems absurd to me. Not only that, I go straight through until 1:00, except on Thursdays when I go until 2:30. I think this is because I have Wednesdays off. Because it makes total sense to give me Wednesday off but make me go to class on a Friday. WTF?
Neither here nor there. Let's talk about my class. There are roughly 30 students, all of the same level of Deutsch as me, and it is CHALK FULL of Bosnians. I mean, half the class must be from Bosnia. Sorry to be a total Westerner, but I don't even know where the fuck Bosnia is, or at least I couldn't point it out on a map. All I know is that it is in the general direction of Eastern Europe, i.e. countries I have no intention of visiting, thank you. In addition to the Bosnians, there are four Americans, some girls from Korea, a few people from Iraq and a girl from Argentina and another from Cuba. The one thing we all have in common: we all speak little to no German. In fact, dare I say I may have known more German than some of the people in that class. I know, I know, hold back your shock. But the good news is, I'm fairly confident that by the end of this six month stint, I'm going to be at least semi-fluent in German. I found out there is a test at the end of the term (February 18th) that we have to score a 60% or better on in order to proceed to the next level of German, i.e. DK II. If not, we have to take the same level over again.
I have already made it my mission to score the highest grade on this test. Blame it on my type A personality, but I've spent 3 years in a degree where I'm lucky to even pass my fucking courses, let alone get the highest grade. So all these students better watch out. I mean, shit, I watched three hours of "Popstars" today, all in German, which I think is the equivalent of our "American Idol" but it is only for girls. In fact, the tagline is "Girls Forever" or some bullshit like that. The show is HORRIBLE, like maybe worse than horrible, but it's like a train wreck. I cannot stop watching. I have no clue what anyone is saying, but I'm fairly certain crushed dreams is something that does not require words. I just wish one of them was more like Simon. They are German for Christ's sake. They should just have to speak to crush dreams. They could tell me I have the most beautiful eyes in the world and my voice is made of rainbows and I'd believe they were trying to suck my soul out with their words. Case in point:
On a different note, one of the judges is in a band called Die Happy, which I happened to look up because, well, I had an open afternoon, and I actually quite enjoy them. Here is a video:
There is just something funny to me about Germans who sing in English. I think it's because German just doesn't translate well lyrically. Anyway. They have a concert in Saarbruecken in December, so I'm pretty stoked about that.
In other news...
Last night, Brice and I went to this lovely restaurant called Gasthaus Zahn (which I actually think translates to the "teeth restaurant" but whatever). I was so freaking hungry because I've been living on cheese and apples and cherry tomatoes, and despite the fact that Paris Hilton might consider this a healthy diet, I was about to die. So I might have overdone it with the food. But it was so, so worth it. And so were the three beers I had last night. And in the event that my mother is reading this, I am only drinking twice a week, so don't remind me that beer packs on pounds. I'm quite aware of this. Remember, I'm walking everywhere. If I'm not losing weight, I'm at least balancing some shit out. Leveling the playing filed. Ya know.
This evening, Katrin and I went to this lovely Brazilian bar and, dare I say, I may have gotten ahead of myself with the alcohol. But it was so good! And there was a young man playing the acoustic guitar like I've never seen. And everyone in the audience started to join in with tambourines and maracas. It was a lot of fun. I am definitely going to have to go back there.
Oh, and I finally got my PIN to my debit card from the bank today, and it's about fucking time because I'm sick of being ass-raped every time I make a cash withdrawal with my Mastercard. UGH. They send EVERYTHING separately, so I've received like 14 different pieces of mail with 14 different codes that I apparently need. The only one I care about is the one that gives me cash, bitches.
I think that is all for now. I must go to bed because we are going to France in the morning. Please contain your jealousy.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
The Beginning....Day One.
Well, technically Day Two, I guess. I decided not to blog yesterday, my first official day in Saarbrueken, because I was a complete mess. I think it finally dawned on me, as I was sitting in my apartment (if you can call this an apartment...I think dorm room in Wallace--UI people you understand--may more accurately describe my present living situation) and I just broke down. I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that I was completely exhausted and just not able to function, and the other part of it was loneliness. It's very strange being in a country where you cannot communicate with other people, or if you do communicate, it's in very short, blunt words. Germans may know how to speak English, but by God you'd better not try to speak it around them. I think my German teacher lied when she said Germans get excited when they learn that you know how to speak English. I'm pretty sure I've gotten the death-glare from quite a few.
Plus, I want this to be a semi-objective blog of my year abroad, and I don't think yesterday I would have been objective. I think yesterday I would have probably re-packed my stuff and gotten on the next plane to Boise. The only thing stopping me was the fact that the thought of having to lug around that fucking suitcase and stupid travel backpack for another day made me decide that taking an Ambien and going to sleep was a better idea. Plus, I finally was connected to the Internet after not being able to talk to anyone, and I, of course, called my mother. And emailed Vickie. And chatted with Alison and Nicole and Lif. I think all I really needed was to talk to my friends. It made me feel far less lonely, even though I knew they were on the other side of the world. This morning I woke up (actually sleeping an entire night...sweet!) and I felt much better. I finally became an official registered student, ate real food (well a pretzel and a thing of yogurt with some fruit) and met up with Katrin, who took me to IKEA. There is nothing like speaking English and going to IKEA that really makes one appreciate life. And I think Katrin was excited, too, because she misses Boise. We all miss Boise. Boise, you don't suck as much as I thought (well, in Winter you suck).
I sort of kept a "journal" of my adventures for the past two weeks. Reading back over what I wrote I noticed that on the days when I didn't have a lot to do, I wrote long blogs. On the days when I met people and we went out and closed down entire towns (um, Garmisch-Partenkirchen, I'm talking to you...) I didn't write anything. But I will be posting those blogs soon. I'm waiting for all my pictures to upload because I want to include pictures. It's times like this I miss the big mofo of a Mac. This HP laptop is just not cutting it for me right now. 600 photos to upload? Right, this is only going to take 40 hours. F.
Tomorrow I take my "placement exam" where they test me and figure out which level of the German language course I should be in. I'd really like to save them the trouble (and me the effort of getting up to take this thing at 8:15 am) and just tell them to put me in the bottom level. German is one effing hard language, and I can't understand a freaking thing anyone says to me. Occasionally I'll catch words, and I'll get so excited that I completely miss the rest of what someone is saying to me. Nice. This right here *waves hands frantically* is awesome.
So anyway, without much further adieu, here is my list of things that are totally different in Germany.
1. Beer is cheaper than water in restaurants. On a related note, restaurants don't serve water with your meal. You have to pay for it. So it only makes sense to just drink a shit-load of beer since it's less expensive and tastes better. So of course, I was wasted for almost two weeks, which I do not recommend if you are an American girl traveling alone. Thank GOD I can hold my booze.
2. Everyone, and I mean everyone in Germany smokes. Everywhere. Christ, you can buy cigarettes at vending machines on the street.
3. So far my experience has been that everyone in Germany is either really, really nice or really, really rude. I haven't found anyone in between. Also, no one smiles at you. I smile a lot. I get looked at like I have some sort of mental disorder. Someone actually moved away from me on the sidewalk.
4. You can buy liederhosen and drindls in the department stores (and yes, I already bought mine for Oktoberfest).
5. The toilets look funny. That is all.
6. The cars are super, super small. Like doll-sized. And they all drive super fast.
7. Under no circumstances should one even consider j-walking. You will get yelled at by everyone within eyeline.
8. The commercials in Germany are either about sex or food. Sometimes both. I mean, there is a lot of sex. There is a mega-erotik discount store about a mile from my apartment. Now there are no windows, but there are giant posters of the products inside plastered on the wall outside. Yes, I walked by a dildo that looked to be about the size of my leg blown up in giant poster form.
9. I watched "The Closer" and "Law & Order: SVU" dubbed in German. It was horrible. Brenda is Brenda because she has that sexy southern accent! She does not sound like some big-breasted bier maid named Helga who wields around a cart of oxen.
10. Everything in Germany is bigger (with the exception of the cars and the strange showers). The food portions, the beers, the people, the mountains, the buildings, etc. It's like Texas, but without the cowboy hats or Bush.
So that is all for right now. Like I said, the blog with pictures of my adventures will be forthcoming. And boy-howdy did I have some adventures. But, should you get bored at work, there is an 8 hour time difference, so I will be able to chat!
Plus, I want this to be a semi-objective blog of my year abroad, and I don't think yesterday I would have been objective. I think yesterday I would have probably re-packed my stuff and gotten on the next plane to Boise. The only thing stopping me was the fact that the thought of having to lug around that fucking suitcase and stupid travel backpack for another day made me decide that taking an Ambien and going to sleep was a better idea. Plus, I finally was connected to the Internet after not being able to talk to anyone, and I, of course, called my mother. And emailed Vickie. And chatted with Alison and Nicole and Lif. I think all I really needed was to talk to my friends. It made me feel far less lonely, even though I knew they were on the other side of the world. This morning I woke up (actually sleeping an entire night...sweet!) and I felt much better. I finally became an official registered student, ate real food (well a pretzel and a thing of yogurt with some fruit) and met up with Katrin, who took me to IKEA. There is nothing like speaking English and going to IKEA that really makes one appreciate life. And I think Katrin was excited, too, because she misses Boise. We all miss Boise. Boise, you don't suck as much as I thought (well, in Winter you suck).
I sort of kept a "journal" of my adventures for the past two weeks. Reading back over what I wrote I noticed that on the days when I didn't have a lot to do, I wrote long blogs. On the days when I met people and we went out and closed down entire towns (um, Garmisch-Partenkirchen, I'm talking to you...) I didn't write anything. But I will be posting those blogs soon. I'm waiting for all my pictures to upload because I want to include pictures. It's times like this I miss the big mofo of a Mac. This HP laptop is just not cutting it for me right now. 600 photos to upload? Right, this is only going to take 40 hours. F.
Tomorrow I take my "placement exam" where they test me and figure out which level of the German language course I should be in. I'd really like to save them the trouble (and me the effort of getting up to take this thing at 8:15 am) and just tell them to put me in the bottom level. German is one effing hard language, and I can't understand a freaking thing anyone says to me. Occasionally I'll catch words, and I'll get so excited that I completely miss the rest of what someone is saying to me. Nice. This right here *waves hands frantically* is awesome.
So anyway, without much further adieu, here is my list of things that are totally different in Germany.
1. Beer is cheaper than water in restaurants. On a related note, restaurants don't serve water with your meal. You have to pay for it. So it only makes sense to just drink a shit-load of beer since it's less expensive and tastes better. So of course, I was wasted for almost two weeks, which I do not recommend if you are an American girl traveling alone. Thank GOD I can hold my booze.
2. Everyone, and I mean everyone in Germany smokes. Everywhere. Christ, you can buy cigarettes at vending machines on the street.
3. So far my experience has been that everyone in Germany is either really, really nice or really, really rude. I haven't found anyone in between. Also, no one smiles at you. I smile a lot. I get looked at like I have some sort of mental disorder. Someone actually moved away from me on the sidewalk.
4. You can buy liederhosen and drindls in the department stores (and yes, I already bought mine for Oktoberfest).
5. The toilets look funny. That is all.
6. The cars are super, super small. Like doll-sized. And they all drive super fast.
7. Under no circumstances should one even consider j-walking. You will get yelled at by everyone within eyeline.
8. The commercials in Germany are either about sex or food. Sometimes both. I mean, there is a lot of sex. There is a mega-erotik discount store about a mile from my apartment. Now there are no windows, but there are giant posters of the products inside plastered on the wall outside. Yes, I walked by a dildo that looked to be about the size of my leg blown up in giant poster form.
9. I watched "The Closer" and "Law & Order: SVU" dubbed in German. It was horrible. Brenda is Brenda because she has that sexy southern accent! She does not sound like some big-breasted bier maid named Helga who wields around a cart of oxen.
10. Everything in Germany is bigger (with the exception of the cars and the strange showers). The food portions, the beers, the people, the mountains, the buildings, etc. It's like Texas, but without the cowboy hats or Bush.
So that is all for right now. Like I said, the blog with pictures of my adventures will be forthcoming. And boy-howdy did I have some adventures. But, should you get bored at work, there is an 8 hour time difference, so I will be able to chat!
Saturday, August 21, 2010
My Revenge at the Wombat Hostel.
Sooooo....I didn't actually pee on anyone's bed, but I did manage to stumble home completely inebriated at 4:30 a.m., waking up as many people in my room as possible. Let's rewind.
Beni met me at my hostel at 10 a.m., which was fairly early considering I had not slept. I took the world's fastest shower because somehow all three Asian girls had shed enough hair to make a wig for someone, and had managed to get water all over everything. When is is humid and hot and there is water all over everything, this very peculiar smell develops that I can only describe as the rotting death smell of a 400 pound woman. Take that in.
So I shower, get dressed, and race out the door, already formulating my plot to get those little bitches back. We went to brunch at the top of this department store with amazing views of Munich's city center. After, we walked around a bit and actually hit City Hall at the exact moment (11 a.m.) the Glockenspiel went off. It was fun watching all the tourists ooh and ahh at the spectacle. Not to mention, City Hall is one of the most beautiful buildings I have seen.
Next, we climbed up what seemed like a million steps through very narrow corridors to the top of St. Peter's church for a panoramic view of the city. I loved the way all the buildings had a sort of rusted red roof top.
We walked around a bit more, taking pictures of churches and the Residence Hall.
Beni cooked this amazing pasta in curry sauce with prawns and unfortunately, I couldn't eat it all. I feel like in the past few days, I have eaten so much effing food. Or maybe it is due to the fact that everything seems quite heavy, and the food portions are ridiculously large. We then watched the season opener for the Bayern Fussball Club. Apparently if I am going to live in Germany, I need to learn to bleed Fussball.
By now, you're all probably wondering, "Sarah, pray tell how you ended up a shit-show, stumbling home at 4:30 so drunk that you almost didn't brush your teeth"? Well here it goes. One word: Australians. Fucking Australians.
I got back to the hostel around 10:45 and decided, despite the fact that I was a sweaty, nasty mess from the humidity that hell, I was going to go check out the bar in the hostel (the WomBAR. Cute, huh?) I went downstairs, sat at the bar alone and ordered a pint of fantastic German beer. Not 2 minutes later, these three Australians sit down next to me. I introduce myself. Before I know it, we're all playing pool together and telling war stories about drunken nights. Fiona, Marcus and Ben were actually not traveling together, but were sharing a room in the hostel (who thought it was a good idea to put three Australians in the same room???)
We start drinking several beers and talking, and at some point we decided to go explore the other bars in the area. Not sure of the decent bars, Fiona makes friends with a woman who I am still convinced was a prostitute, and she explains that the "strip clubs" near our hostel second as petri dishes for gonorrhea (oh, oh, and the 'ladies' all stand in the doorway of their respective establishments, scantly clad, indicting people to enter with seductive looks and hip thrusts. I shit you not). So this prostitute, I mean, really nice woman who just happens to be dressed like a whore, takes us to this club 900 blocks away. I take one look and tell the group 'fuck no.' I'm fairly certain this is the sort of bar where Snookie would have done a cartwheel with no underwear on. If I'm going to do Munich, I'm not going to a bar that looks chalk full of douche bag wannabees from the Jersey Shore.
Apparently the others shared in my sentiment and we started hiking back to the hostel. By this point, I have to pee so badly I'm actually weighing the pros and cons of pissing on the sidewalk and getting arrested. So we pop into this sports bar so I can relieve myself. We end up staying at this bar because a) it is open and b) because there are tons of drunk people with Munich fussball jerseys celebrating the win. Awesome. So we drink more. Because it's not like we weren't drunk enough already. We stay there for a few hours, making friends with all the drunk fans and a group of women who had a ton of sex toys. I pray to God it was a bachelor party or birthday party. I take that back. No, no I don't.
At some point we ended up at a dance club Fiona had frequented the night before. Unfortunately, the bouncer remembered exactly who she was and wouldn't let us in. She couldn't remember what had happened, but it must have been a doozy because he puffed up all big like a grizzly bear and told us to leave. I laughed so hard I couldn't stand up.
I think we went to Burger King here...
When we finally make it back to the hostel around 4:30 in the morning, I'm fairly certain I've had right around 8 German beers, which is the equivalent of me doing a keg stand for 30 minutes straight. I stumble up the stairs, unlock my door and throw it open. I see an Asian girl jump. Yess! I flip on the light. Another one shields her eyes and moans disapprovingly. YES!!! The other one hasn't moved yet, so I throw open my locker, which is right next to her bed, and as it clatters against the wall, she flies up out of the bed. I SO RULE.
Night two in Wombat Hostel: success.
Beni met me at my hostel at 10 a.m., which was fairly early considering I had not slept. I took the world's fastest shower because somehow all three Asian girls had shed enough hair to make a wig for someone, and had managed to get water all over everything. When is is humid and hot and there is water all over everything, this very peculiar smell develops that I can only describe as the rotting death smell of a 400 pound woman. Take that in.
So I shower, get dressed, and race out the door, already formulating my plot to get those little bitches back. We went to brunch at the top of this department store with amazing views of Munich's city center. After, we walked around a bit and actually hit City Hall at the exact moment (11 a.m.) the Glockenspiel went off. It was fun watching all the tourists ooh and ahh at the spectacle. Not to mention, City Hall is one of the most beautiful buildings I have seen.
Next, we climbed up what seemed like a million steps through very narrow corridors to the top of St. Peter's church for a panoramic view of the city. I loved the way all the buildings had a sort of rusted red roof top.
We walked around a bit more, taking pictures of churches and the Residence Hall.
Beni cooked this amazing pasta in curry sauce with prawns and unfortunately, I couldn't eat it all. I feel like in the past few days, I have eaten so much effing food. Or maybe it is due to the fact that everything seems quite heavy, and the food portions are ridiculously large. We then watched the season opener for the Bayern Fussball Club. Apparently if I am going to live in Germany, I need to learn to bleed Fussball.
By now, you're all probably wondering, "Sarah, pray tell how you ended up a shit-show, stumbling home at 4:30 so drunk that you almost didn't brush your teeth"? Well here it goes. One word: Australians. Fucking Australians.
I got back to the hostel around 10:45 and decided, despite the fact that I was a sweaty, nasty mess from the humidity that hell, I was going to go check out the bar in the hostel (the WomBAR. Cute, huh?) I went downstairs, sat at the bar alone and ordered a pint of fantastic German beer. Not 2 minutes later, these three Australians sit down next to me. I introduce myself. Before I know it, we're all playing pool together and telling war stories about drunken nights. Fiona, Marcus and Ben were actually not traveling together, but were sharing a room in the hostel (who thought it was a good idea to put three Australians in the same room???)
We start drinking several beers and talking, and at some point we decided to go explore the other bars in the area. Not sure of the decent bars, Fiona makes friends with a woman who I am still convinced was a prostitute, and she explains that the "strip clubs" near our hostel second as petri dishes for gonorrhea (oh, oh, and the 'ladies' all stand in the doorway of their respective establishments, scantly clad, indicting people to enter with seductive looks and hip thrusts. I shit you not). So this prostitute, I mean, really nice woman who just happens to be dressed like a whore, takes us to this club 900 blocks away. I take one look and tell the group 'fuck no.' I'm fairly certain this is the sort of bar where Snookie would have done a cartwheel with no underwear on. If I'm going to do Munich, I'm not going to a bar that looks chalk full of douche bag wannabees from the Jersey Shore.
Apparently the others shared in my sentiment and we started hiking back to the hostel. By this point, I have to pee so badly I'm actually weighing the pros and cons of pissing on the sidewalk and getting arrested. So we pop into this sports bar so I can relieve myself. We end up staying at this bar because a) it is open and b) because there are tons of drunk people with Munich fussball jerseys celebrating the win. Awesome. So we drink more. Because it's not like we weren't drunk enough already. We stay there for a few hours, making friends with all the drunk fans and a group of women who had a ton of sex toys. I pray to God it was a bachelor party or birthday party. I take that back. No, no I don't.
At some point we ended up at a dance club Fiona had frequented the night before. Unfortunately, the bouncer remembered exactly who she was and wouldn't let us in. She couldn't remember what had happened, but it must have been a doozy because he puffed up all big like a grizzly bear and told us to leave. I laughed so hard I couldn't stand up.
I think we went to Burger King here...
When we finally make it back to the hostel around 4:30 in the morning, I'm fairly certain I've had right around 8 German beers, which is the equivalent of me doing a keg stand for 30 minutes straight. I stumble up the stairs, unlock my door and throw it open. I see an Asian girl jump. Yess! I flip on the light. Another one shields her eyes and moans disapprovingly. YES!!! The other one hasn't moved yet, so I throw open my locker, which is right next to her bed, and as it clatters against the wall, she flies up out of the bed. I SO RULE.
Night two in Wombat Hostel: success.
Friday, August 20, 2010
August 20, 2010 (Morning in the EFFING HOSTEL)
Well, I may or may not have survived my first night in a hostel. Let's assess, shall we:
*It is 9:40 a.m. local time. I went to bed (let me rephrase, I physically got into bed) at around 10:30 p.m. I slept maybe a total of 4 hours. Do people in Munich fucking sleep??? Jesus Christ, I swear there were people, very drunk people, loitering outside the hostel until at least 5 a.m. Loud people. For fuck's sake! Every time I would almost fall asleep someone would yell, or start a fist fight, or break a bottle, or start fucking the person(s) next to them. Not to mention one of the girls from Florida must have had a deviated septum. That, or she was choking on a fan. Why is it always the well-manicured, high-maintenance girls that sound like a fucking train when they sleep??
When I finally did manage to fall asleep around 4:00, I was abruptly awoken by what can only be described as three Godzillas thrashing about the room at 6:00 a.m. Dear Asian Girls: I am going to punch you in your sleep. Better yet, I'm going to get totally wasted tonight and come stumbling in at 3:00 a.m., screaming and throwing shit. Maybe I will even pee on your beds. Because I cannot fathom how those two high-maintenance girls from Florida managed to leave without so much as a floor squeak, yet you three tiny girls made enough noise to wake baby Jesus 2000 years ago. Fuck you. Oh, and you smell funny. There, I said it. It's called deodorant.
The facilities are actually quite nice, but I feel like I'm bordering on the cusp of being too old to stay in one of these "youth" hostels. Oh well, at 20 Euro a night, I can't complain. Maybe I just need to drink more.
I'm not quite sure what today has in store for me, but I'm hoping it involves beer. And lots of pictures. And water. F. I really need water.
*It is 9:40 a.m. local time. I went to bed (let me rephrase, I physically got into bed) at around 10:30 p.m. I slept maybe a total of 4 hours. Do people in Munich fucking sleep??? Jesus Christ, I swear there were people, very drunk people, loitering outside the hostel until at least 5 a.m. Loud people. For fuck's sake! Every time I would almost fall asleep someone would yell, or start a fist fight, or break a bottle, or start fucking the person(s) next to them. Not to mention one of the girls from Florida must have had a deviated septum. That, or she was choking on a fan. Why is it always the well-manicured, high-maintenance girls that sound like a fucking train when they sleep??
When I finally did manage to fall asleep around 4:00, I was abruptly awoken by what can only be described as three Godzillas thrashing about the room at 6:00 a.m. Dear Asian Girls: I am going to punch you in your sleep. Better yet, I'm going to get totally wasted tonight and come stumbling in at 3:00 a.m., screaming and throwing shit. Maybe I will even pee on your beds. Because I cannot fathom how those two high-maintenance girls from Florida managed to leave without so much as a floor squeak, yet you three tiny girls made enough noise to wake baby Jesus 2000 years ago. Fuck you. Oh, and you smell funny. There, I said it. It's called deodorant.
The facilities are actually quite nice, but I feel like I'm bordering on the cusp of being too old to stay in one of these "youth" hostels. Oh well, at 20 Euro a night, I can't complain. Maybe I just need to drink more.
I'm not quite sure what today has in store for me, but I'm hoping it involves beer. And lots of pictures. And water. F. I really need water.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
August 19, 2010 (Munich)
I finally, finally, finally have settled down after one of the craziest days (two days? Fuck if I understand this fucking time change) ever. My flight out of Boise, which now seems ages ago, was delayed, freaking me right the shit out because I had 40 minutes BEFORE said delay to make my connection in Chicago to Munich. Luckily, even though were were 30 minutes delayed, I arrived in Chicago as my flight to Munich was boarding. Even more awesome was the fact that my friend Nate was on my flight from Boise to Chicago. It was nice to have one more person from Boise to talk to since my departure was less than graceful. Yes, I was a sobbing mess. I don't think it had actually sunk in that I was going to be gone for an entire year. Honestly, when I was packing and cleaning and organizing, it just felt like I was going on an extended vacation. It finally dawned on me as we were driving to the airport that "holy shit, I'm going to be gone for an entire year." But the world will go on. Boise will be different, I will be different and my friends will be different, but I see this as an opportunity that needed to happen.
Okay, enough of that bullshit. Let's talk about how FREAKING awesome Germany is. Never mind that everywhere I go I have no idea what people are saying to me. Munich is amazing. It is this strange combination of old meets new--the buildings are all so enriched with the past, but much of it has this modern feel (like the H&M being in this super, super old building. I believe we call that a juxtaposition, folks, even though they're not technically side-by-side. Whatever). And I am so fortunate that Vickie's cousin lives here. Ellen is absolutely amazing, and I have to thank Beni (her boyfriend) for showing me around today. I had my first authentic German beer, which was like an explosion of awesome happiness in my mouth (OMG, did I ACTUALLY WRITE THIS???)--that's what she said. And some sort of Bavarian dish that was basically a clusterfuck of stuff all fried and topped with a fried egg. Yup, any illusions I had about losing weight CLEARLY went out the window. But it was good, oh so good. After lunch, we went and bought a drindl for me to wear during Oktoberfest. My boobs look HUGE. It is fantastic! (PS, I think I look pretty hot in this pic considering I had just endured 13 hours on an airplane).
I am going to buy one with a short skirt to wear for the next 14 Halloweens.
I checked into the hostel (the Wombat Hostel), and there are three Asian girls in my room that don't speak English, and I'm pretty sure one of them is wearing some Hello Kitty pajamas. The other two girls are from Florida, but I've already forgotten their names. Oh well.
Doing more touristy stuff tomorrow, but in the meantime, I think I want another beer. Mmmm.... beer.
Okay, enough of that bullshit. Let's talk about how FREAKING awesome Germany is. Never mind that everywhere I go I have no idea what people are saying to me. Munich is amazing. It is this strange combination of old meets new--the buildings are all so enriched with the past, but much of it has this modern feel (like the H&M being in this super, super old building. I believe we call that a juxtaposition, folks, even though they're not technically side-by-side. Whatever). And I am so fortunate that Vickie's cousin lives here. Ellen is absolutely amazing, and I have to thank Beni (her boyfriend) for showing me around today. I had my first authentic German beer, which was like an explosion of awesome happiness in my mouth (OMG, did I ACTUALLY WRITE THIS???)--that's what she said. And some sort of Bavarian dish that was basically a clusterfuck of stuff all fried and topped with a fried egg. Yup, any illusions I had about losing weight CLEARLY went out the window. But it was good, oh so good. After lunch, we went and bought a drindl for me to wear during Oktoberfest. My boobs look HUGE. It is fantastic! (PS, I think I look pretty hot in this pic considering I had just endured 13 hours on an airplane).
I am going to buy one with a short skirt to wear for the next 14 Halloweens.
I checked into the hostel (the Wombat Hostel), and there are three Asian girls in my room that don't speak English, and I'm pretty sure one of them is wearing some Hello Kitty pajamas. The other two girls are from Florida, but I've already forgotten their names. Oh well.
Doing more touristy stuff tomorrow, but in the meantime, I think I want another beer. Mmmm.... beer.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
It's Almost Time!
I can't believe I am a mere six days away from my big move. It's been a rough few days: saying good-bye to one of my best friends, giving my cats away, trying to clean my house, pack, not get sick, see friends, finish work. I went from having 0 stress this summer to "holy fuck balls!" But I'm keeping my head above water. And I have amazing friends who are supporting me through this whole thing. I couldn't ask for anything else!
I won't have Internet or phone for 11 days while I make my way through the Bavarian Alps. I decided that since I'm going to be in school pretty much the entire time I'm in Germany, I should take advantage of the two weeks I have before school actually starts and travel around. I'm spending time in Munich, Augsburg, Mittenwald, Garmisch, Fussen and then off to Saarbrucken. I'm looking at this as a little detox. I've been so stressed lately that I'm letting my emotions get the better of me, which means little things are setting me off (I guess the good thing is my metabolism goes into hyper-freak out mode when I'm stressed, so I've lost, like, 8 pounds with no exercise. It probably also helps that I'm only consuming 300 calories in food...and about 1200 in wine). I think traveling around for 12 days is exactly what I need.
Because I won't have Internet, I obviously won't be blogging. But I do plan on keeping a journal and then using that to write my blog (I know, right? A JOURNAL? With, like, paper and pens? What the fuck?) I'm going to try to be better about blogging while I'm in Germany because a) I'd like to compile my blog entries into a book and get a sweet deal with a publishing company and b) knowing that I need to blog will encourage me to not spend my weekends watching shitty German television. I may actually get out and *gasp* do things! Especially because I'm 2 hours from Paris. And 7 hours from Amsterdam. Yessss.
So please, become a fan of my blog, follow my blog, etc. I promise sweet pictures, sharp wit and clever anecdotes. Maybe even photos of naked people I see on beaches.
I won't have Internet or phone for 11 days while I make my way through the Bavarian Alps. I decided that since I'm going to be in school pretty much the entire time I'm in Germany, I should take advantage of the two weeks I have before school actually starts and travel around. I'm spending time in Munich, Augsburg, Mittenwald, Garmisch, Fussen and then off to Saarbrucken. I'm looking at this as a little detox. I've been so stressed lately that I'm letting my emotions get the better of me, which means little things are setting me off (I guess the good thing is my metabolism goes into hyper-freak out mode when I'm stressed, so I've lost, like, 8 pounds with no exercise. It probably also helps that I'm only consuming 300 calories in food...and about 1200 in wine). I think traveling around for 12 days is exactly what I need.
Because I won't have Internet, I obviously won't be blogging. But I do plan on keeping a journal and then using that to write my blog (I know, right? A JOURNAL? With, like, paper and pens? What the fuck?) I'm going to try to be better about blogging while I'm in Germany because a) I'd like to compile my blog entries into a book and get a sweet deal with a publishing company and b) knowing that I need to blog will encourage me to not spend my weekends watching shitty German television. I may actually get out and *gasp* do things! Especially because I'm 2 hours from Paris. And 7 hours from Amsterdam. Yessss.
So please, become a fan of my blog, follow my blog, etc. I promise sweet pictures, sharp wit and clever anecdotes. Maybe even photos of naked people I see on beaches.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Celebrating America's Independence...
So I just noticed I haven't blogged in a while. It's not for lack of excitement, trust me. Wait. I take it back. I've been pretty boring the last few weeks. The weather kept shifting between extremely hot and not-so-hot, and I responded by doing nothing but laying in my underwear on the couch watching reruns of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and really bad German porn. What are you going to do?
This weekend, though, this glorious, glorious three-day weekend, I went up to Lucky Peak with some friends to *cough* camp. Wait, you didn't catch that? Fine, yes. I went camping...again. And this time was far more traumatic than last due to the lack of facilities on our camp site. Which meant I had to pee out in nature. More to come on that later.
Friday evening after I got off work, I drove up to Spring Shores and met Corey and Bob on the dock. The campsite they had chosen was only accessible via boat. Which meant that once I was there, I was stuck. The campsite they had so carefully selected was up the hill from the dock, where I would spend the majority of my time. There were a group of girls there that I had not met, and as it turned out, all of them were nurses. Which is awesome should, you know, I impale myself on a branch while trying to pee in nature. They had all been there since earlier that morning and had set up tents. I was told I would be sharing a tent with Baldwin and Joe. This is what the tent looked like:
If you're looking at this thinking "you've got to be fucking kidding me," that was the exact same reaction I had. There was no fucking way. So me, being the sneakster that I am, moved my stuff from the fucked up tent to my friend Corey's nicer tent. There was supposed to be a 90% chance of rain that night. I was not about to drowned in the fucked up tent that couldn't even stay upright (as an aside, later that night, while hurricane-force winds blew and rain poured down, it took Baldwin 30 minutes to get out of his tent to pee. All you could hear was "fuck, I'm stuck in tent. I have to pee.")
Corey, Nate and Bob had procured a keg for the night, in addition to several cases of beer. And don't you know, we drank almost the entirety of the keg the first night. Clearly we were not messing around (p.s. they had been up at the lake since 9 a.m. We're not THAT big of alcoholics).
The awesome thing about camping near a lake is that if/when you need to pee, you can just wade out to about stomach level in the water and pee there. Until it gets too cold. Then, well, you've gotta drop trou. Since I had never peed in nature, I was given a tutorial by my friend Ashley. Paranoid that I was going to pee all over my one pair of track shorts, I hiked myself up a hill, found a bush, and completely disrobed from the waist down. I was not going to risk peeing on any article of clothing. Which meant that, should anyone happen to come around a corner, they would have seen me, bare-assed, attempting to not pee on myself with quite possibly the widest stance you've ever seen (8 years of gymnastics prepared me for this moment). After successfully peeing, I put my clothes back on and decided I hated peeing in nature. Someone wouldn't have invented toilets if they weren't meant to be used. This is why I don't like nature. It's so...primitive. I prefer the comforts of the Hilton, thank you very much. So I tried SO HARD to keep the seal intact for the rest of the night. I think I convinced my body that the need to pee wasn't real. It worked...sort of.
Peeing out in nature aside, we did all the normal camping stuff: we made burgers and beans;
we did keg stands;
and we got drunk and drew mustaches on our hands.
When we all decided that it was time to go to bed (combination of cold weather, rain and overall drunkenness), we went to our respective tents. I was sharing a tent with Ashley and Corey on the air mattress. Being as drunk as I was, I could not figure out how to zip up Vickie's sleeping bag, so I ended up just using it as a giant blanket. At some point during the night, Baldwin, being wasted, started singing songs. I can't quite remember right now what songs he was singing, but soon all tents joined in. I'm sure the people at the campsite down the hill from us loved us.
The next morning, I decided that one night out in nature was plenty for me. I went back to the shore so I could go home and shower and nap (since I hadn't really slept the night before). Here's what I found out: apparently when you pay for day parking, they don't do a 24-hour cycle. If you show up at 6 p.m. and intend on staying until noon the next day, you have to pay for two-days worth of parking. Okay, fine whatever. So I didn't understand their instructions. Does that mean I need a fucking $75 ticket???? I mean, for fuck's sake. It was $5 a day to park and $75 if you violated that, quite innocently? Why not just ass-rape me--I would have charged you less. Fucking douche-bag cops. Anyway.
I went back up to the lake on Sunday so I could work on my tan. At some point, more people had shown up. Enjoy photos:
Oh, and my favorite part! I got to see Raelynn! Finally! Going almost a year without seeing your best friend is way too long! (Holly, that's a note to you, too, but I will see you in a few weeks!)
So all-in-all, I had a fantastic weekend at the lake. Next time, I'll bring a little portable toilet.
This weekend, though, this glorious, glorious three-day weekend, I went up to Lucky Peak with some friends to *cough* camp. Wait, you didn't catch that? Fine, yes. I went camping...again. And this time was far more traumatic than last due to the lack of facilities on our camp site. Which meant I had to pee out in nature. More to come on that later.
Friday evening after I got off work, I drove up to Spring Shores and met Corey and Bob on the dock. The campsite they had chosen was only accessible via boat. Which meant that once I was there, I was stuck. The campsite they had so carefully selected was up the hill from the dock, where I would spend the majority of my time. There were a group of girls there that I had not met, and as it turned out, all of them were nurses. Which is awesome should, you know, I impale myself on a branch while trying to pee in nature. They had all been there since earlier that morning and had set up tents. I was told I would be sharing a tent with Baldwin and Joe. This is what the tent looked like:
If you're looking at this thinking "you've got to be fucking kidding me," that was the exact same reaction I had. There was no fucking way. So me, being the sneakster that I am, moved my stuff from the fucked up tent to my friend Corey's nicer tent. There was supposed to be a 90% chance of rain that night. I was not about to drowned in the fucked up tent that couldn't even stay upright (as an aside, later that night, while hurricane-force winds blew and rain poured down, it took Baldwin 30 minutes to get out of his tent to pee. All you could hear was "fuck, I'm stuck in tent. I have to pee.")
Corey, Nate and Bob had procured a keg for the night, in addition to several cases of beer. And don't you know, we drank almost the entirety of the keg the first night. Clearly we were not messing around (p.s. they had been up at the lake since 9 a.m. We're not THAT big of alcoholics).
The awesome thing about camping near a lake is that if/when you need to pee, you can just wade out to about stomach level in the water and pee there. Until it gets too cold. Then, well, you've gotta drop trou. Since I had never peed in nature, I was given a tutorial by my friend Ashley. Paranoid that I was going to pee all over my one pair of track shorts, I hiked myself up a hill, found a bush, and completely disrobed from the waist down. I was not going to risk peeing on any article of clothing. Which meant that, should anyone happen to come around a corner, they would have seen me, bare-assed, attempting to not pee on myself with quite possibly the widest stance you've ever seen (8 years of gymnastics prepared me for this moment). After successfully peeing, I put my clothes back on and decided I hated peeing in nature. Someone wouldn't have invented toilets if they weren't meant to be used. This is why I don't like nature. It's so...primitive. I prefer the comforts of the Hilton, thank you very much. So I tried SO HARD to keep the seal intact for the rest of the night. I think I convinced my body that the need to pee wasn't real. It worked...sort of.
Peeing out in nature aside, we did all the normal camping stuff: we made burgers and beans;
we did keg stands;
and we got drunk and drew mustaches on our hands.
When we all decided that it was time to go to bed (combination of cold weather, rain and overall drunkenness), we went to our respective tents. I was sharing a tent with Ashley and Corey on the air mattress. Being as drunk as I was, I could not figure out how to zip up Vickie's sleeping bag, so I ended up just using it as a giant blanket. At some point during the night, Baldwin, being wasted, started singing songs. I can't quite remember right now what songs he was singing, but soon all tents joined in. I'm sure the people at the campsite down the hill from us loved us.
The next morning, I decided that one night out in nature was plenty for me. I went back to the shore so I could go home and shower and nap (since I hadn't really slept the night before). Here's what I found out: apparently when you pay for day parking, they don't do a 24-hour cycle. If you show up at 6 p.m. and intend on staying until noon the next day, you have to pay for two-days worth of parking. Okay, fine whatever. So I didn't understand their instructions. Does that mean I need a fucking $75 ticket???? I mean, for fuck's sake. It was $5 a day to park and $75 if you violated that, quite innocently? Why not just ass-rape me--I would have charged you less. Fucking douche-bag cops. Anyway.
I went back up to the lake on Sunday so I could work on my tan. At some point, more people had shown up. Enjoy photos:
Oh, and my favorite part! I got to see Raelynn! Finally! Going almost a year without seeing your best friend is way too long! (Holly, that's a note to you, too, but I will see you in a few weeks!)
So all-in-all, I had a fantastic weekend at the lake. Next time, I'll bring a little portable toilet.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Sawtooth Relay--aka learn to breathe at higher altitudes.
I've been semi-consistently running for the past five months now. I consider myself *fairly* in shape. But nothing, I repeat NOTHING could have prepared me for the Sawtooth Relay this weekend.
The Sawtooth Relay is a run starting in Stanley, Idaho which goes to Sun Valley (Ketchum), Idaho. It's roughly 62 miles. There are six people per team, and each person runs approximately two 5-6 mile legs. The goal is to get to Sun Valley in less than 12 hours, I suppose. There are all sorts of crazy people that participate in this race, including hard-core people who are actually trying to win, but for the most part, it's just an excuse to run with friends and see some great scenery.
The awesome part about this: the race starts at 5:00 a.m. Some people start even earlier, depending on how long they think it will take their team to complete the race. So if you start at 5:00 (which our team did), you have to be at the start line by 4:15. Which means you have to be awake even earlier than that. F. That.
Even better: we decided to camp the night before. In a tent. Out in nature. Did I mention that I had never been camping before? Oh yeah--I've never been camping before. I've done things that I think may be considered camping, but as far as staying overnight in a tent in a sleeping bag...no. Fuck no. I do not like nature. I like to look at nature; I like to take pictures of nature. I do not want to be out IN nature. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. So we drove up Friday evening, set up camp and did what I suppose are considered camping things: grilled hamburgers (in my case, vegan burgers) in a fire, made s'mores, drank beer (well, I drank beer), etc. When we were setting up camp, due to my inexperience, when I asked what I could do to help, I was told to go make friends. That's right. My job was to walk around the campsite and make friends with people. Sweet. I could totally do that. I happened to make friends with a group from the Air Force running in the relay. They had such fun nicknames as "Nader" and "Knuckles." Very nice group of people, who were at nearly every exchange on the run.
Neither here nor there. Here are some photos from the campsite. I will give nature this: I've never seen anything quite so magnificently beautiful.
See? Stunningly beautiful. That's about where my love of nature ends.
We finally went to bed I'm guessing around 11. This being my first time really sleeping in a sleeping bag in a tent, I was not sure what to expect.
1. It was 18 degrees that night. 18. That is not a typo. FUCK that.
2. Apparently the side of the tent gets "moist" with condensation. So when I wake up and roll over, I get a face-full of wet tent side. SICK.
3. I cannot sleep in tiny sleeping bags. As someone who suffers from severe claustrophobia, I about lost my shit. I woke up almost every hour in a complete panic because I could not move. LAME.
4. Even with a foam pad underneath, ground = not comfortable.
I guess the good thing was that we had to be awake at 3:30 in the morning. So my stint with sleeping in nature really only lasted four hours. Still, that was four hours of hell. I was afraid to go pee because the bathrooms were so far away, so of course I had to pee the entire time (why, body? WHY?). I thought I would get eaten by a cougar or something. It's Idaho. Stranger things have happened.
So let's all flash forward to 5:00 a.m. and the start of the race. It's cold. We're all tired. But we're pretty stoked. Nikky ran our first leg and I ran the second. You'd think as a seasoned distance runner, I would be smart when it comes to putting on the proper clothing for running a race. I'll give myself props for having the wicking shirt on, but I lose some serious cred for having my hooded sweatshirt on. Granted, it was only 35 degrees when I started running, by the second mile, I was sweating balls. And I couldn't take off the sweatshirt because I had this damn reflective vest on with my number. Rules, rules, rules. Here's a pic of said reflective vest:
I finished my first leg, which was 5.8 miles, in 1:01. Not too bad, but I'm sure I could have gone faster if I had not been swimming in my own sweat for an hour. As soon as I crossed the exchange point, I started stripping off all my clothes. By the time I got to the porta-potty, I was down to my spandex shorts and sports bra. And it was still only 42 degrees outside. Sarah = smartest person alive. I also got a rash on the side of my neck from where the sweatshirt rubbed against my skin. I so lose more points for that.
Sally ran our third leg, Kent ran our fourth leg, Katie ran our fifth leg and Jake ran the summit and the last leg. Here are some photos from the race:
The sixth leg, which belonged to Jake, was this awesome 1400 foot hill climb up "Galena Summit." I'd like to call this death. Just DRIVING up this hill made me tired. I have no idea how Jake did it, or how he did it so quickly, but big kudos to this kid.
Here are some pictures from the top of the summit, and Katie and I being total dorks.
After the summit, the next six legs are pretty much a cake-walk downhill. Please enjoy the following pictures (in case you couldn't tell, this is a blog primarily dominated by photos).
I ran my second leg, which was a little over five miles, in 49 minutes. This is slightly closer to my actual mileage pace. I would have gone faster (and not had to walk part of it) had it not been for the huge difference in between Boise and Stanley. No kidding. I didn't think that elevation would make that big of a difference on my ability to breathe but oh my dear God, was I wrong. I thought my lungs were going to get coughed up and I would trip and them and probably tear my knee again. I'll keep this in mind for when I decide to hike to Base Camp at Mt. Everest.
Apparently while I was running, a group of women, who had stopped on the side of the road to cheer on their teammate, asked me how I was doing. I whined that all I wanted was a beer. And don't you know, one of those women met me at the exchange with a PBR. I almost cried. I gave her a hug. It was truly a touching moment.
We finished the entire relay in under 10 hours, which is super awesome. There was a fun little picnic at the end where I got a t-shirt, a medal and free beer. I also made friends with a volunteer who is from Boise. Because I'm one of those people that just loves making friends. Overall, I had a fantastic time, and I'm kind of bummed I don't get to run it again next year, but I definitely think this is a race I will keep up with, even if I move away from Idaho.
The Sawtooth Relay is a run starting in Stanley, Idaho which goes to Sun Valley (Ketchum), Idaho. It's roughly 62 miles. There are six people per team, and each person runs approximately two 5-6 mile legs. The goal is to get to Sun Valley in less than 12 hours, I suppose. There are all sorts of crazy people that participate in this race, including hard-core people who are actually trying to win, but for the most part, it's just an excuse to run with friends and see some great scenery.
The awesome part about this: the race starts at 5:00 a.m. Some people start even earlier, depending on how long they think it will take their team to complete the race. So if you start at 5:00 (which our team did), you have to be at the start line by 4:15. Which means you have to be awake even earlier than that. F. That.
Even better: we decided to camp the night before. In a tent. Out in nature. Did I mention that I had never been camping before? Oh yeah--I've never been camping before. I've done things that I think may be considered camping, but as far as staying overnight in a tent in a sleeping bag...no. Fuck no. I do not like nature. I like to look at nature; I like to take pictures of nature. I do not want to be out IN nature. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. So we drove up Friday evening, set up camp and did what I suppose are considered camping things: grilled hamburgers (in my case, vegan burgers) in a fire, made s'mores, drank beer (well, I drank beer), etc. When we were setting up camp, due to my inexperience, when I asked what I could do to help, I was told to go make friends. That's right. My job was to walk around the campsite and make friends with people. Sweet. I could totally do that. I happened to make friends with a group from the Air Force running in the relay. They had such fun nicknames as "Nader" and "Knuckles." Very nice group of people, who were at nearly every exchange on the run.
Neither here nor there. Here are some photos from the campsite. I will give nature this: I've never seen anything quite so magnificently beautiful.
See? Stunningly beautiful. That's about where my love of nature ends.
We finally went to bed I'm guessing around 11. This being my first time really sleeping in a sleeping bag in a tent, I was not sure what to expect.
1. It was 18 degrees that night. 18. That is not a typo. FUCK that.
2. Apparently the side of the tent gets "moist" with condensation. So when I wake up and roll over, I get a face-full of wet tent side. SICK.
3. I cannot sleep in tiny sleeping bags. As someone who suffers from severe claustrophobia, I about lost my shit. I woke up almost every hour in a complete panic because I could not move. LAME.
4. Even with a foam pad underneath, ground = not comfortable.
I guess the good thing was that we had to be awake at 3:30 in the morning. So my stint with sleeping in nature really only lasted four hours. Still, that was four hours of hell. I was afraid to go pee because the bathrooms were so far away, so of course I had to pee the entire time (why, body? WHY?). I thought I would get eaten by a cougar or something. It's Idaho. Stranger things have happened.
So let's all flash forward to 5:00 a.m. and the start of the race. It's cold. We're all tired. But we're pretty stoked. Nikky ran our first leg and I ran the second. You'd think as a seasoned distance runner, I would be smart when it comes to putting on the proper clothing for running a race. I'll give myself props for having the wicking shirt on, but I lose some serious cred for having my hooded sweatshirt on. Granted, it was only 35 degrees when I started running, by the second mile, I was sweating balls. And I couldn't take off the sweatshirt because I had this damn reflective vest on with my number. Rules, rules, rules. Here's a pic of said reflective vest:
I finished my first leg, which was 5.8 miles, in 1:01. Not too bad, but I'm sure I could have gone faster if I had not been swimming in my own sweat for an hour. As soon as I crossed the exchange point, I started stripping off all my clothes. By the time I got to the porta-potty, I was down to my spandex shorts and sports bra. And it was still only 42 degrees outside. Sarah = smartest person alive. I also got a rash on the side of my neck from where the sweatshirt rubbed against my skin. I so lose more points for that.
Sally ran our third leg, Kent ran our fourth leg, Katie ran our fifth leg and Jake ran the summit and the last leg. Here are some photos from the race:
The sixth leg, which belonged to Jake, was this awesome 1400 foot hill climb up "Galena Summit." I'd like to call this death. Just DRIVING up this hill made me tired. I have no idea how Jake did it, or how he did it so quickly, but big kudos to this kid.
Here are some pictures from the top of the summit, and Katie and I being total dorks.
After the summit, the next six legs are pretty much a cake-walk downhill. Please enjoy the following pictures (in case you couldn't tell, this is a blog primarily dominated by photos).
I ran my second leg, which was a little over five miles, in 49 minutes. This is slightly closer to my actual mileage pace. I would have gone faster (and not had to walk part of it) had it not been for the huge difference in between Boise and Stanley. No kidding. I didn't think that elevation would make that big of a difference on my ability to breathe but oh my dear God, was I wrong. I thought my lungs were going to get coughed up and I would trip and them and probably tear my knee again. I'll keep this in mind for when I decide to hike to Base Camp at Mt. Everest.
Apparently while I was running, a group of women, who had stopped on the side of the road to cheer on their teammate, asked me how I was doing. I whined that all I wanted was a beer. And don't you know, one of those women met me at the exchange with a PBR. I almost cried. I gave her a hug. It was truly a touching moment.
We finished the entire relay in under 10 hours, which is super awesome. There was a fun little picnic at the end where I got a t-shirt, a medal and free beer. I also made friends with a volunteer who is from Boise. Because I'm one of those people that just loves making friends. Overall, I had a fantastic time, and I'm kind of bummed I don't get to run it again next year, but I definitely think this is a race I will keep up with, even if I move away from Idaho.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Mem-Day weekend, aka: SHE & HIM!
If there is one thing I absolutely love to do, it is go to concerts. I will travel great distances to go to a concert. Hungover, sick, tired, cranky, angry, angsty, sad, whatever. It is nothing good music cannot cure.
Sunday, a group of us packed up in my car and drove the 320 miles to Bend, Oregon for the She & Him concert. For those who may be unfamiliar with She & Him, this amazing duet is the product of the whimsical combination of M. Ward and Zooey Deschanel. See video below.
Total feelgood music. AND I can dance to it. Sweet.
So road-trip + concert = Sunday was an absolutely amazing day. Aside from the fact that maybe I had a little too much fun Saturday night, making Sunday morning at 8:00 a.m. feel almost like a swift kick in the stomach, I rallied (and drove). Katie, her sister Sarah and her friend Rachel met at my house and we headed on our way, very, very early.
Anyone that knows me knows that when I'm driving someplace, I do NOT stop for bathroom breaks. I hate stopping. I've held it for hours on end. I attribute my awesome bladder to never wanting to "break the seal" at parties. This, though, does not work well when people have to pee all the time (okay, once on the way there, but still). Now if we hadn't stopped, however, I would not have been privy to the awesomeness that was the free museum outside of Burns, Oregon. Please revel in the following pictures.
I'm pretty convinced this doll is possessed. Remember that episode (Chinga) of The X-Files with the extremely creepy doll? I just kept imagining my hair getting caught in a nearby milkshake machine.
There was also this sign in the bathroom, which could be one of the more perplexing things I've seen:
Do they mean to say don't stand on the toilet seat or if you're going to stand to pee, lift up the toilet seat? How does a woman stand and pee? How do you aim? Do you hoist one leg up on the sink? And how is this preferable to sitting or squatting? There are so many unanswered questions!!!
So back on the road, the weather was beautiful. Blue skies, some clouds, gorgeous landscapes. We rolled into Bend and it was a balmy 78 degrees, which made me oh-so-happy considering the weather in Boise has been anything but summer-like for the past few weeks. We went to this Italian restaurant to eat near the Ampitheater, and that is when it started raining. It sputtered for a bit, then full on poured, then the sun came out. I was crossing my fingers that it would stay sunny since I was in a super-cute sundress from Anthro and only had a cardigan to protect me from the pouring rains. Apparently finger-crossing did not work.
Before we went to the show, we loaded up on alcohol and badminton ($5 at Rite Aid). This turned out to be a worthwhile investment as we ended up waiting in line outside the ampitheater for a good hour. Dear Ticketweb: when you say "5:00" on your ticket, please clarify if that means the doors open at 5:00 or the concert starts at 5:00. OK? Thanks. Because as much fun as it was to listen to the woman behind me talk about her friend who was having an affair in her horrific southern accent, I would have much rather been inside...drinking...
When we were finally allowed inside, we set up our blankets in the grass and chilled for a bit. There was an opening band for She & Him and Band of Horses called Dawes. And they sucked. I'm just going to say it. Their harmonizing was terrible and it reminded me of the sounds the alley cats make when they fight outside my house. The only good thing was the drummer. He had the most amazing Jew-fro and looked like he was puking whe he played the drums. No, seriously. He made the retching face. I couldn't stop laughing. What a tool. You are not bad ass, buddy.
Neither here nor there. Let's get to the awesome part: SHE & HIM!
They were amazing. That is all I have to say. Despite the fact that it was pouring rain, despite the fact that all these hipster-wannabe-stoned assholes kept shoving their way forward, despite (or yay?) that there was weed being smoked like we were at a freaking Willie Nelson concert, they were simply fantastic. Here are a few pics of my new girlfriend, Zooey (and I should clarify I use the term girlfriend loosely since she is married. We're more of a weekend thing...kidding! Sort of).
Seriously? Could she be any cuter? I don't think so. And get this--she TOTALLY dances like me (if you consider jumping around, arms up in the air, looking like a 6-year-old with ADHD dancing). So much love. They played a full set, which included all the songs I absolutely love, and I really could not ask for any more.
The band that came on after She & Him I was not particularly interested in. I think they were called Band of Horses, and they seemed to be the band that everyone was there to see. They were all right. Not really my cup of tea, which is probably why I took a nap. Or at least rested my eyes. There is not a whole lot of sleeping that can be had at a concert like that.
We decided not to stay the night in Bend and drive back to Boise after the concert. While I'm glad we did, because it gave me all day Monday to collect my thoughts, driving six hours back to Boise leaving at 11:00 p.m. does not do good things for one's sanity. Pretty sure I started hallucinating. Pretty sure. But I guess the great thing is cops aren't really too keen on staying out on Highway 20 at 3:00 in the morning to catch speeders. Sarah: 1, Oregon State Police: 0.
All in all, fantastic trip. I cannot wait to see them in concert again, and HIGHLY recommend this as a show you MUST see.
Sunday, a group of us packed up in my car and drove the 320 miles to Bend, Oregon for the She & Him concert. For those who may be unfamiliar with She & Him, this amazing duet is the product of the whimsical combination of M. Ward and Zooey Deschanel. See video below.
Total feelgood music. AND I can dance to it. Sweet.
So road-trip + concert = Sunday was an absolutely amazing day. Aside from the fact that maybe I had a little too much fun Saturday night, making Sunday morning at 8:00 a.m. feel almost like a swift kick in the stomach, I rallied (and drove). Katie, her sister Sarah and her friend Rachel met at my house and we headed on our way, very, very early.
Anyone that knows me knows that when I'm driving someplace, I do NOT stop for bathroom breaks. I hate stopping. I've held it for hours on end. I attribute my awesome bladder to never wanting to "break the seal" at parties. This, though, does not work well when people have to pee all the time (okay, once on the way there, but still). Now if we hadn't stopped, however, I would not have been privy to the awesomeness that was the free museum outside of Burns, Oregon. Please revel in the following pictures.
I'm pretty convinced this doll is possessed. Remember that episode (Chinga) of The X-Files with the extremely creepy doll? I just kept imagining my hair getting caught in a nearby milkshake machine.
There was also this sign in the bathroom, which could be one of the more perplexing things I've seen:
Do they mean to say don't stand on the toilet seat or if you're going to stand to pee, lift up the toilet seat? How does a woman stand and pee? How do you aim? Do you hoist one leg up on the sink? And how is this preferable to sitting or squatting? There are so many unanswered questions!!!
So back on the road, the weather was beautiful. Blue skies, some clouds, gorgeous landscapes. We rolled into Bend and it was a balmy 78 degrees, which made me oh-so-happy considering the weather in Boise has been anything but summer-like for the past few weeks. We went to this Italian restaurant to eat near the Ampitheater, and that is when it started raining. It sputtered for a bit, then full on poured, then the sun came out. I was crossing my fingers that it would stay sunny since I was in a super-cute sundress from Anthro and only had a cardigan to protect me from the pouring rains. Apparently finger-crossing did not work.
Before we went to the show, we loaded up on alcohol and badminton ($5 at Rite Aid). This turned out to be a worthwhile investment as we ended up waiting in line outside the ampitheater for a good hour. Dear Ticketweb: when you say "5:00" on your ticket, please clarify if that means the doors open at 5:00 or the concert starts at 5:00. OK? Thanks. Because as much fun as it was to listen to the woman behind me talk about her friend who was having an affair in her horrific southern accent, I would have much rather been inside...drinking...
When we were finally allowed inside, we set up our blankets in the grass and chilled for a bit. There was an opening band for She & Him and Band of Horses called Dawes. And they sucked. I'm just going to say it. Their harmonizing was terrible and it reminded me of the sounds the alley cats make when they fight outside my house. The only good thing was the drummer. He had the most amazing Jew-fro and looked like he was puking whe he played the drums. No, seriously. He made the retching face. I couldn't stop laughing. What a tool. You are not bad ass, buddy.
Neither here nor there. Let's get to the awesome part: SHE & HIM!
They were amazing. That is all I have to say. Despite the fact that it was pouring rain, despite the fact that all these hipster-wannabe-stoned assholes kept shoving their way forward, despite (or yay?) that there was weed being smoked like we were at a freaking Willie Nelson concert, they were simply fantastic. Here are a few pics of my new girlfriend, Zooey (and I should clarify I use the term girlfriend loosely since she is married. We're more of a weekend thing...kidding! Sort of).
Seriously? Could she be any cuter? I don't think so. And get this--she TOTALLY dances like me (if you consider jumping around, arms up in the air, looking like a 6-year-old with ADHD dancing). So much love. They played a full set, which included all the songs I absolutely love, and I really could not ask for any more.
The band that came on after She & Him I was not particularly interested in. I think they were called Band of Horses, and they seemed to be the band that everyone was there to see. They were all right. Not really my cup of tea, which is probably why I took a nap. Or at least rested my eyes. There is not a whole lot of sleeping that can be had at a concert like that.
We decided not to stay the night in Bend and drive back to Boise after the concert. While I'm glad we did, because it gave me all day Monday to collect my thoughts, driving six hours back to Boise leaving at 11:00 p.m. does not do good things for one's sanity. Pretty sure I started hallucinating. Pretty sure. But I guess the great thing is cops aren't really too keen on staying out on Highway 20 at 3:00 in the morning to catch speeders. Sarah: 1, Oregon State Police: 0.
All in all, fantastic trip. I cannot wait to see them in concert again, and HIGHLY recommend this as a show you MUST see.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
I wish they all could be California girls...
I just got back today from Los Angeles. I freaking love that city. I love the noise, the people, the smell, the sights. I love that there is always something to do. I love that the beach is so close. I love the weather.
I wish I was moving there.
Don't get me wrong--I'm so excited to move to Germany. But part of me feels like I'm reaching a point in my life where I should be doing something more. I want to start my career. I want to start the rest of my life. *sigh* I want to settle down.
At the same time, I know that moving to Germany (and having Boise State pay for it) is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And I would regret not going. Who knows. Maybe I'll fall in love or get a job offer and move there forever. I just have to remember that things are happening the way they are meant to happen. Everything will fall into place if I'm just patient and don't fuck things up too badly along the way.
So let's quit being serious.
Basically, this trip was a chance for me to get the fuck out of Boise. After the whirlwind week I had, I was soooo fucking ready for a break. There was far too much crying and people leaving and so much drama. I try to avoid the drama, but apparently little bitches have issues with growing the fuck up, so I do what any normal person does and I just leave. Last time I went to L.A., there was a lot I had to cram into a few days. This time, I was there for three days, and two of those three days I was going to use to lay on the beach. And that is precisely what I did. I usually turn my phone off when I go on vacation, because the whole point of a vacation is to relax. This is now something I need to work on. Apparently my connection to my phone is deeper than that of a mother to her child, and I could barely stand to be away from it for more than an hour. I need to go back to a foreign country where a) there is no cell phone service or b) if there is cell phone service, it's going to cost me my right leg to make a two-minute phone call. Fucking technology.
I got in Thursday afternoon and made a beeline for WeHo. I needed a salad and I figured what better place than West Hollywood to find a truly horrendously expensive salad. The thing I love about West Hollywood is all the gay men. It's the only place in the world, I'm betting, with so many shaved man legs and Pomeranians. You can't argue with that. If anything, people watching is fucking rad there. I ate at this cute little place called Tempered Greens (I think?) and went clothing shopping in some of the S&M shops. I then decided to head over to Redondo Beach. This place was amazing. I walked around the pier for a little while and then laid on the beach for the rest of the afternoon. So gorgeous.
Friday I went down to Venice Beach and laid out for a good four hours. Mind you, whitey-McWhiterson was wearing SPF 50 and I still managed to get sunburned. AWESOME.
There was some sort of freak windstorm in the middle of the afternoon, so I basically got sand in every possible crevice of my body. I'm still finding sand in my hair and ears. SICK.
I drove to Pasadena to check out apartments for my little sis since she will be moving there for school in September. I'm SO FUCKING JEALOUS that she gets to move there. I fell IN LOVE with that city. It's so cute. I'm definitely, definitely going to have to visit her when I get back to the states. I met my cousin and her fiance and friend from work at this fantastic place called Vertical Wine Bar. They had happy hour specials on Stella. So of course, I got myself all sorts of wasted. I'm so good at that. I also made friends with our waitress, Deborah, who happened to be a costume designer. She had some great life stories.
Oh, and should you ever visit Pasadena and figure that you don't need to pay the meter, FYI, it's a fucking $50 ticket. FUCK YOU, PASADENA!
I have GPS on my cell phone so I can figure out where the fuck I'm going when I'm on vacation. So imagine my surprise when my GPS failed me on my way from Pasadena to Chatsworth at around 10 o'clock at night. I have no idea where the fuck Pasadena is in relation to Chatsworth, nor do I know how to read a real map, so I was pretty much fucked. Thank GOD for Nicole, who got me at least to Chatsworth. Turns out Stella has an effect on my ability to recall addresses, and I'm pretty sure I transposed Des' house numbers, so I ended up in some business district of Chatsworth. Nicole had to hang up the phone because I was stressing her shit. I seem to do that a lot to people. I promise it's not panic in my voice--it's the gin talking! I forget there are people in this world who, unlike me, plan shit in advance. I tend to fly by the seat of my pants and hope for the best. This is probably going to get me in some serious fucking trouble somewhere down the line, but for now, it works for me. Eventually I made it home and passed out until it was time to hot tub at 12:30. Life was rough.
Saturday was Des' friend Dena's graduation party, so we got to dress up and I got to do what I do best--get completely shit-faced.
In my shit-faced state, I decided that yes, yes I DID want to get my belly-button pierced, so we loaded up in the car (we totally had a driver for the night--SWEET) and went to Studio City Tattoo before we met the party in WeHo. This is apparently the place where bat-shit-crazy Britney Spears went to get her piercings. I have a slight claim to fame.
Des took about 400 pictures of this whole process, but in most of them I look like I'm getting ready to cry or shit myself.
Here is the finished product:
Please ignore my incredibly white stomach.
Being sufficiently inebriated and now PIERCED, we headed down to the Abbey to meet the rest of the graduation party. I LOVED the Abbey. SO MANY GAY PEOPLE! And a lot of straight people. It was sort of like the Balcony, but with way more people and better music. NOT TO MENTION, HOT MEN DANCING ON BARS! I made friends with this dude, and Alice managed to take some very inappropriate pictures.
He was actually straight. At least that is what he said before he told me that he got off work at 1:00 and we should hang. Awesome dude. I would LOVE to hook up with the straight guy dancing on the bar at the gay dance club in a fucking speedo.
Speaking of which, ALICE CAME with her awesome girlfriend. I love visiting Alice. She makes me laugh.
I don't quite remember leaving the bar or anything that happened after that. I do remember having to wake up this morning at fucking 5:00 a.m. to catch my 8:30 flight back to Boise.
Point-of-order: should you decide that it would be a good idea to high-five the Homeland Security guard at LAX while showing off your new piercing and bragging about your "awesome hangover," I would recommend against it. I got searched. And so did my bag. Apparently terrorists also come in the form of 26-year-old drunk girls from Idaho.
I'm hoping I can make it down to L.A. one more time before I go to Germany. But I have some other trips I want to take (not to mention I'm going to Portland 900 times this summer), so it may just have to wait.
I wish I was moving there.
Don't get me wrong--I'm so excited to move to Germany. But part of me feels like I'm reaching a point in my life where I should be doing something more. I want to start my career. I want to start the rest of my life. *sigh* I want to settle down.
At the same time, I know that moving to Germany (and having Boise State pay for it) is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And I would regret not going. Who knows. Maybe I'll fall in love or get a job offer and move there forever. I just have to remember that things are happening the way they are meant to happen. Everything will fall into place if I'm just patient and don't fuck things up too badly along the way.
So let's quit being serious.
Basically, this trip was a chance for me to get the fuck out of Boise. After the whirlwind week I had, I was soooo fucking ready for a break. There was far too much crying and people leaving and so much drama. I try to avoid the drama, but apparently little bitches have issues with growing the fuck up, so I do what any normal person does and I just leave. Last time I went to L.A., there was a lot I had to cram into a few days. This time, I was there for three days, and two of those three days I was going to use to lay on the beach. And that is precisely what I did. I usually turn my phone off when I go on vacation, because the whole point of a vacation is to relax. This is now something I need to work on. Apparently my connection to my phone is deeper than that of a mother to her child, and I could barely stand to be away from it for more than an hour. I need to go back to a foreign country where a) there is no cell phone service or b) if there is cell phone service, it's going to cost me my right leg to make a two-minute phone call. Fucking technology.
I got in Thursday afternoon and made a beeline for WeHo. I needed a salad and I figured what better place than West Hollywood to find a truly horrendously expensive salad. The thing I love about West Hollywood is all the gay men. It's the only place in the world, I'm betting, with so many shaved man legs and Pomeranians. You can't argue with that. If anything, people watching is fucking rad there. I ate at this cute little place called Tempered Greens (I think?) and went clothing shopping in some of the S&M shops. I then decided to head over to Redondo Beach. This place was amazing. I walked around the pier for a little while and then laid on the beach for the rest of the afternoon. So gorgeous.
Friday I went down to Venice Beach and laid out for a good four hours. Mind you, whitey-McWhiterson was wearing SPF 50 and I still managed to get sunburned. AWESOME.
There was some sort of freak windstorm in the middle of the afternoon, so I basically got sand in every possible crevice of my body. I'm still finding sand in my hair and ears. SICK.
I drove to Pasadena to check out apartments for my little sis since she will be moving there for school in September. I'm SO FUCKING JEALOUS that she gets to move there. I fell IN LOVE with that city. It's so cute. I'm definitely, definitely going to have to visit her when I get back to the states. I met my cousin and her fiance and friend from work at this fantastic place called Vertical Wine Bar. They had happy hour specials on Stella. So of course, I got myself all sorts of wasted. I'm so good at that. I also made friends with our waitress, Deborah, who happened to be a costume designer. She had some great life stories.
Oh, and should you ever visit Pasadena and figure that you don't need to pay the meter, FYI, it's a fucking $50 ticket. FUCK YOU, PASADENA!
I have GPS on my cell phone so I can figure out where the fuck I'm going when I'm on vacation. So imagine my surprise when my GPS failed me on my way from Pasadena to Chatsworth at around 10 o'clock at night. I have no idea where the fuck Pasadena is in relation to Chatsworth, nor do I know how to read a real map, so I was pretty much fucked. Thank GOD for Nicole, who got me at least to Chatsworth. Turns out Stella has an effect on my ability to recall addresses, and I'm pretty sure I transposed Des' house numbers, so I ended up in some business district of Chatsworth. Nicole had to hang up the phone because I was stressing her shit. I seem to do that a lot to people. I promise it's not panic in my voice--it's the gin talking! I forget there are people in this world who, unlike me, plan shit in advance. I tend to fly by the seat of my pants and hope for the best. This is probably going to get me in some serious fucking trouble somewhere down the line, but for now, it works for me. Eventually I made it home and passed out until it was time to hot tub at 12:30. Life was rough.
Saturday was Des' friend Dena's graduation party, so we got to dress up and I got to do what I do best--get completely shit-faced.
In my shit-faced state, I decided that yes, yes I DID want to get my belly-button pierced, so we loaded up in the car (we totally had a driver for the night--SWEET) and went to Studio City Tattoo before we met the party in WeHo. This is apparently the place where bat-shit-crazy Britney Spears went to get her piercings. I have a slight claim to fame.
Des took about 400 pictures of this whole process, but in most of them I look like I'm getting ready to cry or shit myself.
Here is the finished product:
Please ignore my incredibly white stomach.
Being sufficiently inebriated and now PIERCED, we headed down to the Abbey to meet the rest of the graduation party. I LOVED the Abbey. SO MANY GAY PEOPLE! And a lot of straight people. It was sort of like the Balcony, but with way more people and better music. NOT TO MENTION, HOT MEN DANCING ON BARS! I made friends with this dude, and Alice managed to take some very inappropriate pictures.
He was actually straight. At least that is what he said before he told me that he got off work at 1:00 and we should hang. Awesome dude. I would LOVE to hook up with the straight guy dancing on the bar at the gay dance club in a fucking speedo.
Speaking of which, ALICE CAME with her awesome girlfriend. I love visiting Alice. She makes me laugh.
I don't quite remember leaving the bar or anything that happened after that. I do remember having to wake up this morning at fucking 5:00 a.m. to catch my 8:30 flight back to Boise.
Point-of-order: should you decide that it would be a good idea to high-five the Homeland Security guard at LAX while showing off your new piercing and bragging about your "awesome hangover," I would recommend against it. I got searched. And so did my bag. Apparently terrorists also come in the form of 26-year-old drunk girls from Idaho.
I'm hoping I can make it down to L.A. one more time before I go to Germany. But I have some other trips I want to take (not to mention I'm going to Portland 900 times this summer), so it may just have to wait.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)