like a man, not a boy

Good things:
My paper being recently completed and sent off to Herr Beilein
Knowing that after 6pm tomorrow I won't have school for four days (okay, so thats the routine every week, but its nice to push yourself through three/four hellish days to get to a couple clean ones)
Knowing that tomorrow night is Wednesday, which means going out!
My closet finally getting fixed, so at least now I have something resembling a place to store my clothing, instead of just one large shelf.
Newly purchased winter coat (Mom sighs with relief)

Bad things:
That paper... yeah, I don't think it was that good. (Es heisst: Das Verhaeltnis zwischen dem Kuenstler und der Gesellschaft in den literarischen Texten von Thomas Mann, ob du interessiert bist) I just spent the past hour going over it with a surprisingly nice hallmate of mine. I asked my next door neighbor far earlier in the night for help (with grammatical corrections, because its generally recommended to get a native speaker to look over your work if its anything important, though, obviously by this story its something I don't do all too often), but he was busy, and anyone else I felt somewhat comfortable asking was gone. But then Jack(y) came over because I bribed her with dinner, and with her timeless support I had the strength to go ask one more person. Robert totally went all out and spent like an hour going over it in his room before he even came to mine to go over it with me. They do surprise you sometimes, they do. And he has Band of Brothers! Maybe I can try to make friends yet.

School ALL DAY tomorrow... startin' the day off right by dragging myself out of bed at 7:30. The difference between dragging yourself out of bed here and dragging yourself out of bed in say, oh, Santa Cruz, is that here I am tossing this sleepy shell onto a bike for a mind-numbing bike ride, whereas at Santa Cruz I just sort of needed to grab a scarf and walk for a couple of minutes to class. Granted, it'd probably be a walk up a hill... but still. At my most lazy I would just go and catch a bus to class, but here... I think laziness would be something like walking my bike, which would take a good 15 minutes longer and with the bike traffic here would be a death wish. And speaking of bike riding, Monday morning I rode my bike to school in the snow. I am positive that that is the first time I've ever been able to say that.

I honestly cannot believe its almost December. As of Thursday I will have been in Europe for four months! I also cannot believe that its getting this far in the semester. I am reading the journals of friends from home and hearing about how the quarter there is almost finished, and though I feel like there is still quite a lot left of this semester, its going a lot faster than I would have expected. That is mostly bad because it seems like the work is really starting to pile up. So, last week I had my two Referate (oral reports). This week I had one essay for my Thomas Mann Tutorium. As far as big projects like that go, I think I have a test coming up in Wortschatzuebungen (the teacher of which, by the way, really reminds me of Aunt Caroline, and it is saying something that I make that connection because I haven't seen Caroline for years). For Thomas Mann I'll have one more paper to write, and then a final exam. For creative writing I have to write a chapter of a group story (lame) in early January, and I have to turn in an analytical paper sometime before January 31st (I think I am going to analyze a poem... for five to ten pages). THEN I think the last big thing will be my history paper, which is probably also due somewhere around the end of January. Like I mentioned before, five to ten thrilling pages of historical fluff about the 18th century English aristocracy and their relationship to nature.

I believe I've previously explained this, but the reason I have all these papers at the end of the quarter is because for most types of classes here students don't actually receive grades. They go to a class, and then far later they use the knowledge they learned in that class on some test... or something. I'm still a little unclear. What I know is that we have to jump through special (fiery) hoops to get grades (unfortunately there isn't some goodwill towards all men program where we could just get a good grade by showing up and looking interested... though its arguable that at least that last part would be hard to pull off all the time). So yeah, in actuality one could say that they do less work here, because less is assigned, but I know that isn't the case for me right now. But talking to Germans who have studied in the US, they remind us often that the workload there is ridiculous. The difference there is that at home we'll get a reading list, and you are expected to go out, buy the books, read the books, and know the information. For my history class Rita and I were asking Professor Wellenreuther if he had some suggestions for sources for our papers... and he pointed us in the direction of the history library. Uh-huh...

Se Lest

One of the best nights ever.

I post this with the full knowledge that I am likely to get a lecture from Mumsie once she notices that I am not wearing socks in this picture.

I have been waiting for the right shot to post of the view from my window... when I drew the curtains the morning after Thanksgiving I knew this was it.

Flies in the Eyes of the Queen

Its just now Sunday. I've gone out the past four nights, and since this is somewhat a trend, my weeks here are divided as following: Sunday is recovery/homework day. Monday-Wednesday I have class. Then Thursday, Friday and Saturday I spent recovering from late nights, and I attempt to get errands/homework (ha!) done then also.

Thursday was Thanksgiving. I can't really remember what I did on the actual day, but I remember being in somewhat of a sour mood. Jacky and I went into town to look for stuff to wear to the EAP-hosted Thanksgiving Dinner (at one of the cafeterias on campus), and I felt just like the weather: gray and dreary.

Once at the dinner my mood brightened, and it was actually a good time. The food was good, and I got to have some good conversations with some folks. Almost all of the Californians were there, but I see probably at least half of them on a somewhat regular basis, so it wasn't really a big deal in that sense, but it was nice that we were all together. Our three teachers from ILP were also there, as well as Elke and Herr Keller (the EAP directors here), and a few "distinguished guests" who didn't mean really anything more to me than just some eldery Germans standing up and giving toasts in German. The highlight of the meal (besides merely eating a lot) was the video and resulting speech that Sean, Sam and Lee put together about the "real" meaning of Thanksgiving (something about Lee running around with a piece of fur as a loincloth, and Lee and Sean trapsing about in some forest in Goettingen). And after that they said a piece about how they were genuinely happy to be sharing the night with us all, and I know we were all smiling, having all understood the inside jokes in the video, and understanding that we were all in the same place right then. It was, for most of us, our first Thanksgiving away from home, or at least away from family, and we were all missing those from home who really mean something to us. For all the varying degrees of friendship that lie between us all, we were at least all there, all Americans celebrating a holiday whose significance is completely understandable to us alone.

The whole night I had been telling everyone to come to Nautilius (a bar) after the dinner, and I amazed myself by the plan actually panning out. So after a few hours spent mingling around with the Americans, a good group of us packed up and headed out. A few of us had to get our bikes from the other side of the building, so we went out a different door than the rest. As I pushed the door open, I started and then yelped, because I realized it was snowing. We all screamed and ran out and threw a rucus, us all laughing that the couple of Germans standing around must have thought we were insane. We wiped it off our bike seats and I kept exclaiming, It is snowing! I can't believe it's snowing! Then we rode and caught up with the rest of the group, and then Jacky and I threw our bikes down and made snow angels. We all finally ended up at Nautilius, where I proceeded to have my fill, and then sat and chatted it up with Herr Beilein. It was so strange to just be hanging out at a bar with Beilein and Droescher, two of the professors from ILP. Beilein is still my professor, because he is teaching the tutorium for my Thomas Mann class. I've never really had a student-teacher relationship before where you could go out with all your friends and have them come along and everyone drink and be merry together. It ended up being a really fun night.

When we came outside of Nautilus it was still snowing, and the snow had built up enough, so we had a mini snowball fight. Then a bunch of people went home, and the real ones proceeded on to the next bar. At Deja Vu I sat around with Beilein, Droescher, Tony, Jacky, Lee and British Tim. At around a quarter to five it was called a night, and I made my way home, my wet socks in my bag, flakes of snow blinding me. Every five minutes I would shout to Jacky, who was riding in front of me, that there was snow everywhere, and wasn't it amazing? I peddled fast because I was scared of frostbite, for my feet were stuck in a pair of completely soaked through shoes.

That night, Thanksgiving on a Thursday in Germany, was one of my favorites here in Goettingen. It is difficult to explain it now, a few days later, but on the way home Jacky and I threw our bikes down once more, this time on the lawn by the Bibliothek. We ran into the snow and tossed ourselves down, our cameras in the air. And riding home I was filled with such a breathtaking wonder at everything, not only at the snow but at what it represented: the difference here, the beauty in everything that I've really never known before. For those fifteen minutes I was completely in love with everything in the world. I can remember a stretch of that ride home: Peddling down Robert Koch Strasse, a weary body but whose eyes were still on fire. Jacky in front of me, a bit ahead maybe. Feeling: this is life. There is someone within earshot, but not at your side. It is you alone that is speeding through the world, and its you that is causing those wheels underneath you to move. You can look from side to side and see the same surroundings you have for what feels like a hundred times before, but it can all be completely new and fresh. And the snow on the ground is like something that was made just for you, a reminder of how although you are just the tiniest speck on the tiniest piece of ground in a truly immense world, that you and this life of yours are huge. The whizz of misaligned bike parts is the heartbeat of a life that seems to be speeding faster than you can process it. And for as much as you want to reach out and grab at everything, and hold it fast to you so that you can always keep it as a reminder, you realize that isn't how it works. The best you can do it is move with your eyes open, and your mouth closed so that you don't miss a single beat.

I was only able to get around four hours of sleep. Friday. I called Jacky and we made our way into town to the kitchen at the Studienzentrum (study center), two hours late for the turkey enchilada making party. What I expected to be a couple hours of help-a-brother-out ended up being a full day of warming tortillas in oil, stripping meat off turkey carcasses and standing around in a cramped kitchen with a few of my fellow Californians. Jacky and I had to ride back home to change and attempt to be somewhat presentable before we could get down to the party. Apparently every year it is a tradition for the Californian students to get together the night after Thanksgiving and sit around and eat the left-overs. What was before called the Left-Over Party was this year The California Party at Blue Note, a club at Wilhelmsplatz. I had expected the party to be somewhat lame, and it wasn't really a huge extravaganza, but it turned out a lot better than what I had expected of the organizational capabilities of my fellow Californians here in Germany. At first the party was mostly Americans and Erasmus students (Erasmus is the european-exchange program here), but I think as the night wore on there were more Germans as well. Another night of witnessing two of our German profs sit around and drink. The music, as it tends to be here, was generally pretty terrible, but there were enough times when it could be overlooked enough that us Americans got the dance floor going quite a number of times.

Saturday I didn't wake up until 2:30, but it didn't even feel like I'd gotten that much sleep, just because the length and quality of my sleep the previous three nights had been relatively poor. I was too hungry and tired to really get much done, but around five I finally got myself over to Jacky's, where we had dinner. Then we set off for town to get some errands done. Unfortunately everything closes so EARLY here that we weren't able to get all we wanted accomplished, but I did get a new bike lock, which was very necessary since I had lost mine Thanksgiving night with all the excitement with the snow (and so forth). So then Jack (as is now my nickname for Jacky) and I wandered around the Weinachtsmarkt until it was time to meet up with Steven. Once we found Steven, the three of us walked to Johanne's (Jacky's German buddy) house for our first Feuerzangenbowle party. Feuerzangenbowle is this traditional German holiday drink that is highly recommended by yours truly. You heat Gluehwein (which you will remember is "glowing wine"), and then put this tower of sugar on this little plate on top, and then you pour a bunch of rum on top of that, and then you set that on fire and let all the melty goodness seep in. We happened to be sitting at the table where the drink and the contraption it was forged in were laying, so in the end I think I ended up having more than my share. But it was sort of necessary to keep my hands doing something because the whole situation was slightly awkward. I thought it was going to be a party party, but it ended up being Johanne and her closest 20 friends... and then me, Steven and Jacky. So yeah, sort of weird. I did talk to a couple of girls for a bit, but we were stuck far enough away from everyone that it was too much to shout across, but the room was still small enough to make it feel like we should have been doing a lot more socializing that we were. Jacky and I ended up leaving around 11, because we were both tired and sort of not really in the mood for putting out a bunch of energy to befriend this set of people. I also wanted to get home before the hot water shut off so I could wash my face in hot water for the first time in four nights. I had also sort of been planning on meeting with up this guy I had met the night previous, but that didn't end up panning out, so home to try to get a decent nights rest. Anddd now I'm up late writing a blog entry. So it goes.

And on a somewhat unrelated note, I finally realized the problem with the dating culture here. My problem is that you can't go to a bar, or a party, or whatever, and just meet someone who you think would be cool to hang out with. If you show interest in someone, no matter what kind of interest, it gets construed that you'd want something more than just a friendship. So I can't just go out and make friends with guys, which is what I am desperately wanting to do. I don't want to DATE EVERYONE IN THIS CITY, I just want to make some friends who aren't American! And now I am worried that if that situation ever does arise, when someone does just want to chill, I am going to read more into it because that is what I am expecting of males here. Its really frustrating. You know, its not like I am getting hit on all the time or anything, but there definitely have been times where I've been somewhere with friends and later Keinst or Steven or someone will be like, SOOOO how were things with that Hungarian guy? And I'd be like, fine, what do you mean? ...Sigh. Alright, and then your logical response: well, don't go to bars and parties to meet friends, then. And when you say that, you give me the opportunity to say, no, dear reader, that ain't how it works here. Germans are a different breed altogether. They are less inclined to make chit chat, act friendly, or talk to you if they don't really want to. If they don't want to make friends with you, why waste their time talking to you? I don't mean to make Germans out to be mean race or something, because it does make a lot of sense when you think about it, but I just wasn't raised in a culture where that was acceptable. I realize more and more every day that that outgoing, friendly though often superficially friendliness is an american institution that has not yet made its way overseas.

Enjoy your worries, you may never have them again

Life is so much better. The two oral presentations of the semester are officially completed- one this afternoon and the other this evening. They both went decently, nothing to look back and cringe on. I can go back to breathing normally and enjoying life again.

This evening Jacky and I rode into town to meet with her German 'buddy' (an advisor here set up a California-German exchange, so those of us who were interested got matched up randomly with an interested German... but unfortunately mine seems to be a no-show) with some of her friends, Steven, British Tim, and a German friend of his. It ended up being a good night.

Tonight was the first night of the Weinachtsmarkt, which apparently is so awesome that it they even have it over on that Great Island on which Colina currently resides. I am just that surprised they didn't translate the name of it for the Brits (Christmas market). For the next three weeks there will be booths set up all over the very center of town, selling all kinds of delightful traditional German trifles. Since it was the opening night, it was PACKED, and even with all that body heat it was absolutely freezing. Tonight I partook of the traditional holiday German drink Gluehwein (glowing wine). It was... not all that good tasting. Its basically just warm red wine with spices, and I think sometime in the past couple of months I have developed an aversion to red wine because now I can just not stand it. I forced it down for the sake of tradition, and I have the glass to prove it. After some dillydallying around, we all ended up at Trou, one of the favorite bars of the Californian crowd. It really is a cool place; its basically this stone-walled cellar that is still nice and toasty even when the outside world is beyond cold.

Keinst and his German buddy met up with us at Trou, so for awhile we had a good little group going. I ended up having a couple of good conversations with both Keinst's buddy and Tim's friend. I really don't have that many conversations with German girls, so it was nice to stretch out the legs of my German a little, for they've felt stiff for too long now. There is a Californian party on Friday, so hopefully they will show up to that, or if not, I invited them to come to Paulaner's on Wednesday.

The combination of speaking foreign languages and alcohol has always been sort of mysterious to me- how do they always seem to go together so often, and surprisingly, so well? I have been speaking so much English just because everyone I actually have a good amount of conversation with tends to be American, and tonight we still spoke a lot of English, but its nice to feel like I am getting a little schoolwork done on a weekend, if you know what I mean.

After Trou, Keinst, Tim, Steven and I went to Efes, them to get Doener and me for Pommes. If there is any food whose comsuption rate has gone up since I've been in Germany, its french fries (Pommes). They are sold at every Doerner place (which means you can get them after your midnight adventures are spent, no matter what the hour), and are about the cheapest thing you can order. I also ate an unbelievable amount of ice cream while on our backpacking trip a couple of months back. I think I ate ice cream in every major city we were in.

Once we'd had our fill, Keinst and rolled our bikes so Steven wouldn't have to walk home alone. Steven and I argued over Radiohead albums and we all talked about life after Germany, growing older, what there is to miss and what there is still to look forward to. There is such a crazy amount of things to think about, I have to wonder if that too will pass on through me after awhile. When a thought like that strikes me, I have the urge to sit down and write out everything in my head, so that one day I will look back and not be at a loss to remember who I was at twenty one years old. The sad reality of the situation is that there is never enough time. There are always papers to be written, research to be done, exercises to complete, pages to read. Groceries to be purchased. Dinner to be made. Errands to run. Meeting Jacky at 7:30. Should leave by 9:00 to get to class in time. Need to run to train station to get ticket before the weekend. Go to bank and make sure I have enough money for rent. And somewhere in there you're supposed to sleep.

I guess thats why off and on in my life I have tried to write, because for all the credit I try to give myself in an attempt to maintain a decent level of self confidence, I know myself well enough to know that I won't remember the self I am right now twenty years from now. Thinking back, in a lot of ways its difficult to remember the me of just a couple of years ago, and just imagine all that will transpire just within the coming few. This journal is partly that, and partly for all of the people who still care, who I don't get to talk to all that often, or really ever. But it remains what to me is the definition of a journal, just a glimpse of all the things you wish you had the time to say. I try my hardest not to carry on about mounting stresses, because no one really wants to read about how Meredith is afraid she is going to stand up in front of the class and have her mind pulled right out from under her, and that that really isn't that silly of a concern, because its happened before and will likely happen again. I fight off the urge to wax poetic as I sit huddled at my computer, the world outside my dimly lit box quiet and still, the music pressed tightly againist me. That isn't the thing you really like to read over later, once the music isn't still ratteling inside you, and instead your words seem like things previously written, erased, and written again by ten thousand other hands. Its hard to write in a medium where everything can so easily be construed as trite. God bless the Internet, but really, wouldn't a leather bound cover on this suit me a bit better?

Die Zukunft. Ich weiss nicht genau, wohin es bringt mich. Wo es wird mich bringen. Ich fuehle mich, dass ich Zeit habe, aber andererseits fuehle ich mich, Zeit nur einen Druck ist. Ich hab' keine Zeit. Ich muss alles erfahren, alles sehen, alles erleben von jetzt bis nach den Tod. Nun geht das Alles der Welt und des Geistes durch mich, durch den ganzen Koerper. Wie Musik geht Leben in den Ohren und danach aus der Haut, aber es gibt immer einen Teil, der drinnen bleibt. Gleichzeitig stehe ich aber in der Mitte der Antarktis, nur Schnee fuer Kilometer zu sehen. Es ist zu klischee, einen Sturm oder so zu beschreiben, aber was ist es denn? Es ist ein Sturm, ein Nichts, ein Fluss. Leben ist das Sekunde des Tanzes, diese paar Sekunde wenn man ueber nichts denken kann, nee, es gibt nichts darueber zu denken. Es gibt nur Geraeusch, Bewegung und Licht. Zufaellig kommen alles zusammen, wie Gott, Schicksal oder du selbst es geplant hast. Ich koennte nicht sagen. Ja, wahrscheinlich schlechtes Deutsch habe ich hier benutzt. Aber es geht, wie die Tagen ohne Schlafen, den Abend ohne Essen. Ich habe keine Zeit fuer Schalfen, aber es werde kommen. Ich werde den Tag jeden Morgen neu machen und hoffe, dass alles in seinen Orten fallen werden.

Tomorrow (today) is Thanksgiving. Apart from folks from home asking me about the logistics of celebrating here, or me wishing the boys a happy Thanksgiving at 12:30 this morning in Efes, I haven't really thought much about it. I think I should.

After a good long sleep, I am going to try to get some work done, figure out what exactly semi-formal attire could translate to in regards to my present wardrobe, and then meet the bulk of the Californian population in Goettingen for one of those feast things. Happy Thanksgiving, from me, a little earlier, to you.

christmas steps

So, I haven't written in two weeks. This could mean two things: that I am been ridiculously busy, or that my Internet got shut off. In actuality both are true, though apparently I haven't been as busy as I should have, for I have a tremendous amount of work to accomplish in all too short of a time. Its generally been forcing me into the comfort of my sweet bed, where I can escape it and the rest of the world for a golden hour or two.

Today I woke up feeling surprisingly alert for only having gotten a few hours of sleep. This was due in part to my procrastination with reading last week's Thomas Mann "short" stories, and part thanks to my next door neighbor, in whose world its apparently acceptable to play video games at 2:30 in the morning at full volume. I don't remember the last time I could actually feel my ears ringing.

Around 8:10 this morning I left my room and braced a cold bike ride to campus. The past few days have seriously been freezing. There was talk of snow, but then it started raining yesterday, so I guess thats out... for now. Once on campus I endured Most Exciting Lecture Ever #3 in Most Random Class to Take at a German University. I skipped this class last week because I was just too sleep deprived to drag myself out of bed (which is saying a lot, because its not all that uncommon to see my eyes red and bleary, looking miserable in a class full of Germans), but thank the lord the class ended up being cancelled anyway, or else I think I would have been sorry. Professor (Doktor?) Wellenreuther is an amazing old German man, whose British-accent-when-he-reads-quotes-in-English is so touching that upon hearing it, us Americans look at one another with fond smiles, but I don't think he could have picked a drier topic to talk about for an entire semester. Rita and Steven are also in this course, so we all went to his office hours after class to talk to him about our term paper proposals. I formulated mine during lecture this morning when a topic came to me that didn't seem like it'd be entirely impossible to squeeze a decent enough, your-entire-grade-for-this-class-is-resting-on-this sort of paper. So, Der Adel und die Natur (the Aristocracy and Nature) it is. I plan on bringing in art, sport, and something about a reflection of politics in the architecture of the upper class... yeah. I spend my early Wednesday mornings sitting in the hard wooden chairs, not even able to rest my head back because of how the seating in the lecture halls is organized, and wonder what I am doing with my life.

The meeting with Professor Wellenreuther went better than expected, and to kill time before our next class, Steven, Rita and I got "coffee" at the cafe. After some good old fashioned louder-than-necessary American humor, Steven and I trekked off to Waldweg. My Wednesdays are kind of silly, because my first and third class are in the same area (Zentralhoersaalgebaeude, which is basically main campus), and my second and fourth are in the same area (Waldweg, close by where ILP was held), only a couple of streets away from location of classes 1 and 3. So its just back and forth, back and forth.

Next lecture went well, apart from the fact that the entire presentation was about Thomas Mann's Buddenbrooks, which I haven't read and probably won't, at least for a good amount of time. So I sort of went in and out of that one. Then it was back to the ZHG to meet with Zuneun (June) for lunch. We ended up eating with Steven too, and there is a lot more backstory to this, but it was sort of awkward and unsatisfying (the food, too). Then it was to tutorium, where we talked the entire time about the story I didn't read (Tristan), and ran out of time before we could get to the one I did read (Waelsungenblut). We also started our group presentations today. Mine is next week, and I need to start researching. I think the topic is really interesting (Thomas Mann und die Homosexualitaet), but I have another Referat the same day (next Wednesday, a week from today), two term papers to be starting, two smaller-scale papers to be doing, etc etc etc. Save me.

I wrapped up the day with one more class, a trip to the grocery store on the way home with Jacky, and since then I've been revelling in having Internet again. Now, for those of you who are interested, my academic schedule:

Monday:
11:15-12:45 Schreiben fuer Uni (University Writing)
4:15-5:45 Wortschatzuebungen (Vocabulary Class)
8:30-10:00 Jazz- Fortgeschrittende (Advanced Jazz Dance)

Tuesday:
9:15-10:45 Kreatives Schreiben (Creative Writing)
5:00-6:30 Kick-Box Karate (though we haven't gone in a couple of weeks...)

Wednesday:
8:30-10:00 Englische Aristokratie im 18. Jahrhundert
11:15-12:45 Thomas Mann
2:00-3:45 Thomas Mann Tutorium
4:15-5:45 Wortschatzuebungen

And then my week is done. Thursdays are usually recovering days, spent between my bed and my computer, but I think its getting far enough into the semester that I need to start getting out and doing work those days. Especially tomorrow, yeesh.

A little more logistical stuff. I live on the second floor of a four/five floored building (depending on if you come in the back or front entrance). There are fourteen people in my hall. There's the lone American, a Spanish girl across from me, a Pakistani, a Hungarian girl, and the other ten are German. Not surprisingly, I really barely know anyone.

Its disappointing, but for as long as I've lived here, I still don't know that many Germans. Well, I guess I've met a lot, and I say 'hallo' to a good amount, but I am not really in the place with any of them that we'd consider one another friends. In German you don't call someone your friend unless you are REALLY their friend- very different from English. And Germans are notoriously hard to get to know... sigh. More on this later, mayhaps.

As aforementioned, my Internet got shut off for a week. Luckily, that was the week that Colina came to visit! She arrived late last Wednesday night, and stayed until Sunday morning. It was so so so nice to have her here, though because of our schedule I felt like I was too tired the whole time to be as good of a host as I would have liked. But it was a lot of fun, and I am hoping she can come back again, a bit later in the year.

Having her here made me realize just what I am lacking as far as close personal relationships. She also happened to arrive at a time where I was finally feeling adequately disillusioned with groups of friends here, so that probably added to it, but all the same. It was so nice to have someone that was always up for going out and doing things, even if it cost a little bit of money (don't worry Denise, we didn't go crazy by any account), and who was having a good time, and who can RELATE to my situation, even if ours are somewhat different. But maybe the nicest thing was that it was Colina, one of the few people I can stay up until the wee hours of the morning talking to and not really mind that that it means we will be tired the whole next day. We could talk about things from home and understand one another, and not have to try to explain the past ten years of our lives to one another in order to understand our lives now. I am missing that now, and ever so slightly bemoaning the fact that there aren't people here like some of the ones that I left at home. But, I know, thats one of the reasons you go away, and it really has only been three (and a half) months... I still have eight and a half before I uproot again. It frustrates me, though, because I thought at this point I would know so many more people. And its not that we haven't tried. A part of it is that we are exchange students, so people know we are only here for a limited amount of time. Another part is the language barrier, and the fact that our group of Americans is somewhat large enough to be self contained, so it is sort of an effort to go out of that and try to bring in someone new (hasn't worked yet). And then lastly, there is the fact that it is just hard to get to know people here. Sometimes I wonder if I should have gone to some country where the population gesticulates a lot and offers you tapatas as you stroll down the humid streets. But then I wouldn't be in Germany, and I wouldn't be struggling with remembering when to use apostrophes and commas in English. I wouldn't be riding in the rain and wondering how my bike will handle itself in snow. I wouldn't have felt that little tinge of pride in myself for being able to show off a little bit while Colina was here, and if I hadn't come to Germany, I wouldn't now be starting the research to find where I want to live next. Its only Germany that has given me the experiences that will cause me to forever think back on rolling green countryside, cobblestone streets and white and brown thatched buildings with fondness.

Before I end this weepfest I should detail some of Colina's visit. I left Paulaner's Wednesday evening around 11 to go and meet Colina at the train station by 11:20. We walked back to my place and put down her stuff, and then walked to the ZHG to meet some of the folks at the "Tequilaparty." The foyer of one of the main buildings of campus was crowded with students talking, dancing, and enjoying the effects of 1 Euro Tequila shots. One of the more amusing moments of the night was when I was standing with Kai on a balcony trying to find Steven and Ben so Kai could get her jacket, and these two German guys came up to Colina and started ratteling off something in German to her. She used the trusty "kein Deutsch" phrase that she came to know so well, and then I ran over and found out they wanted to take a picture of us for some project or something. It all sounded pretty shady, but it was a funny enough situation that now we have some badly lit picture with these two zealous looking Germans.

The next day I showed Colina around Goettingen, which on foot takes a LOT longer than on a bike. I guess I haven't really walked around Goettingen since I've first been here, before I had a bike, but it was pretty tiring. Really the only big amounts of walking I've done since early August were always in other cities or other countries, where we didn't have our bikes handy. Anyhow, that was fun, we did some shopping and Colina got a sense for the Innenstadt. That night was probably the most enjoyable of her stay here. No one was up for doing anything, and I was getting frustrated just when Sean texted me back. We ended up riding into town with Sean (with Colina on the back of his bike), to a bar called Nautilus. The three of us went "deep sea diving" with, well, I guess you'd have to be there to understand. Sam joined us a little later, and then another patch of time later we found ourselves downstairs with Shawn, Emily, Rita, Steven and Tim. Needless to say it was probably one of my best nights in Goettingen.

Friday Colina and I sort of bummed around and tried to recover our wits after a long night. Friday night ended up sort of being a sham, as we didn't leave the Dorf (where we hung out at the Dorfkrug, the bar there, with a bunch of Amis until we all relocated to somebody's roommate's houseparty, which was way too many people in way too small of a space) until all the clubs we had planned on checking out were pretty dead. So the group I had painstakingly forced to go dancing with us ended our evening with some Doener (an unbelievably popular type of Turkish fast food). Then a long, cold, long walk home.

I had wanted Colina to see a bit more of Germany than just Luebeck, where she flew into, and Goettingen, so Saturday we joined some folks on a one hour train ride to a little town called Goslar. Goslar is situated at the foot of the Harz Mountains, and was really a beautiful little place. We only spent about four hours there, but that was enough, since there really wasn't all that much to do. We walked around and saw what I am assuming is the majority of the town, and I took a lot of pictures. Saturday night we decided to take easy because Colina had a relatively early train out of Goettingen, so we joined some of the other Americans to go to Kai's German friend's place, where he cooked a really, really good dinner. Then it was back home for one last bout of late night chatting.

And now, your reward for reading this whole entry. These pictures start the Sunday before Colina came, with the trip Jacky and I made to Koeln (Cologne) to see Sigur Ros, an Icelandic band, play at the Palladium. The concert was amazing, but what was not amazing was the full day on a train to get there, and then arriving back in Goettingen at 7:30am, with just enough time for two hours of sleep before I had to drag myself to my first class. But, of course, it was worth it. We didn't get to see much of Koeln because the train took so long. The train shouldn't have taken that long, but I let Jacky get the tickets, and instead of going for a normal route, she asked for the cheapest tickets (of course this is a bad idea), which we later had to amend when we realized that they would have left us stranded in Koeln. As it was, the bit of Koeln we got to see was the train station, the subway/bus route to where the concert venue was, and a bit of the city at night as we walked around with two kids we met after the concert.

We had been sort of in the dark about where the venue actually lay, so we had just followed the mass of people there, and then the mass of people back to the subway stop. On the way back after the concert, we heard two people in front of us speaking English, so Jacky asked them where they were from. The girl shocked us both by telling us she was Greek, but had been raised in Australia. This was shocking because she had the most Californian accent you could imagine, it was insane. The boy was Swedish, and both were studying German at the Goethe Institute (a language school) in Bonn. We ended up spending the next couple of hours with them, first on the way back, and then later when we ran into them again in the train station. Before their train left, we went and sat at a little bar with them and chatted about Germans, language, and Los Angeles. Then it was one more glimpse at the stunningly beautiful Koelner Dom before retreating to a 24-hour Burger King in the train station. Watching bad music videos at 2am in a dirty fast food place has never seemed so much more like living.

this is fact not fiction

Last night, as I labored to understand Mann's labor, I was dreading waking up and facing Wednesday. Luckily this Wednesday was somewhat easier to get through than the last, if only for notes like "Ich verstehe gar nichts, schiess mich" in margins belonging to people who I generally find to be more intelligent than me. That moment where I realize that The Never Ending Wednesday is finally coming to a close is so tasty, though - riding home exhausted just to throw myself into my chair and not have to think for a few hours.

Tonight I drank korean schnapps with June, Se, Se's girlfriend, and their chinese friend whose name I couldn't tell you to save my life. We sat in Se's apartment, them doing most of the talking, me shoveling down rice to quench the burning that was inspired by the spicy korean soup which I was forced to gulp to get the taste of schnapps out of my mouth. They all look expectantly at me and ask me if I like spicy foods. A ha! The talk was mostly in German, but now and then somebody would break out into Korean and then they'd all go and I'd sort of sit there and look around. It was a strange feeling, but what isn't these days? Maybe its stranger still that these strange feelings are starting to feel less strange. Verstehst du?

After June - whose name is not actually June, but something crazy like Zuneun-ung - passed out, I rode home and to Jacky's. The two of us haven't just hung out in awhile, mostly because we have both been busy with classes, and then when we aren't busy with classes, we are each holed up in our rooms doing homework/ trying to defrag a bit with borrowed DVDs (I'm currently on Sex in the City: Season 3). Its been an.. einsam couple of weeks, and with the amount of homework that I have accrued with a week of just three days of classes (more than enough to slave over for the next four), its probably going to keep somewhat that way.

I guess now is as good a time as any to make a formal apology for how my writing has worsened/will worsen considerably over the coming months. I think just sitting in class all day (you will remember that Wednesdays are the Epicste of days) has made writing today even more difficult, but just reading over what I write makes my head hurt. I want to throw the German words for things in everywhere, but since that'd get old real fast, I will do my best to keep it to understandable English. It should already be obvious that I have trouble remembering what I should and should not capitalize... and there will be loads of other little things that come up without me really consciously realizing it, I'm sure.

Tomorrow I am going to SLEEP IN, then try to be an industrious and conscious person by getting some homework done. Then later I think June is going to save me from the 20th consecutive day of frying vegetables (though thats not to say that I don't still love them). Saturday morning I am going to join in on Jacky's tradition and join her at the Flohmarkt (flea market). Then Sunday we are going to try to leave early for Koeln (Cologne), explore the city a bit, and that night see Sigur Ros play at the Palladium. Now, sleep sleep sleep-

Our Faces Split the Coast in Half

I was just in the shower thinking, and I realized that I haven't stayed in the same country for an entire month since July.

In August I flew from the States to Germany.
In September I trained it from Germany to Hungary, Hungary to Slovakia, Slovakia to Austria.
In October I went from Austria to the Czech Republic, the Czech Republic to England, and from England to Germany.

Now its November, and I am hoping that I can organize a trip to Amsterdam before the month is out. Colina is coming to visit -wow- a week from tomorrow, and I don't know how classes will progress in the coming weeks... but I didn't make my schedule so I had a four day weekend for nothing.

In December, once classes break for Christmas, the plan is to meet up with Colina in either Paris or Brussels, depending on what we can agree on about flights and trains in the next few days. Unfortunately I only have just a week once my classes break until we need to be in England to meet up with Colina's family (and later, my mom and Scott), but if I can see some of Belgium and Northern France before I head into the Most Expensive Country Ever, I'll be happy. Then, end of December its back to Germany before classes start up again on January 2nd.

I think winter semester ends sometime in February, and then will begin the (somewhere around) month and a half break I have between semesters. I have so many ideas for where I want to go... the problem remains too many places, too little time (& money). I'll have to be back in Germany early/mid April for the start of summer semester, but there is a good chance that Laura will be doing a program in Italy that begins in May... so that means I need to get down there before her program ends (because I will still be in school long after both Laura, Colina, and everyone else I know that is abroad).

This, along with everything else is my life, demonstrates the 'well lets try this and hope it works out' attitude that has been necessary to incorporate into this year so that I can remain a somewhat stable being. Tonight I went to my second kickboxing-in-German class. Tomorrow morning somewhere around 8:25am I will sit down at the wooden desk in lecture hall 002 in the Zentralhoersaalgebaeude and do my best to keep myself awake/understand an old German man talking about English aristocracy in the 18th century. And thats just the very beginning of the day.


Now I am going to go fetch some maracuja-mango juice from the kitchen, sit down with "Der Wille zum Glueck" and hope that Thomas Mann takes it easier on me tonight.