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.
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.
posted by Meredesu at 3:41 AM
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