The Modern Day Nomad.

"Nomad" - a person who has no fixed residence but moves from place to place (usually seasonally) and within a defined territory. I think I qualify for this description. Over the last year and a half I have not lived in one place for longer than three months. Tomorrow marks my seventh move in eighteen months - back to Philadelphia, back to school, back to the dorms.

Penn Housing must have a cruel sense of humor. I applied for on-campus housing, looking for a roommate-free safe pace to live. They assigned me a spot in the freshman dorms. A quick snapshot of my freshman year housing situation: it was common to wake up on a Saturday or Sunday morning to find the hallway covered in technicolor vomit that made interesting splatter patterns up the walls. It smelled like a combination of vomit, fruity bar drinks, McDonalds - a common drunk food of choice for Penn students, and Febreeze (to try and cover up the stench.) I am not looking forward to it. Honestly though, in Philadelphia it's a choice between living on-campus with alcohol-intolerant freshmen or living off-campus and walking past drug dealers on your way home at night. I'll choose the dorms.

My frequent moves have made me a minimalist of sorts. My life fits neatly into two suitcases that I have carried with me halfway across the world and back. Unfortunately not all of my German souvenirs will be accompanying me to school; the wooden swords my sister and I bought at Neuschwanstein are rather large and won't in my luggage, which is a shame because they're fun. The scarf I bought at the first soccer game is coming with me though. I spent almost an hour in line to buy it so I am determined to wear it as much as possible.

One downside of the nomadic lifestyle is that I constantly feel like I am camping. I used to feel like I was camping out at school, just waiting it out until I could return home. Now, everywhere feels like camping - I'm just waiting out the next year and a half until I can go back to Germany. Three weeks from tomorrow I go back to Munich for Oktoberfest, and there are tentative visits planned for winter break and spring break. We'll see how Oktoberfest goes and take it from there. Mal sehen.

Tomorrow- another move, another culture. The USA is technically one country, but the Midwest, south, west coast, and east coast have their own distinct cultures that don't necessarily mix with one another. It's interesting - stay tuned.


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Timing is a bitch.

Wow. I just read that last post and it was... rough. I apologize. I blame the bad writing on jet lag and have since deleted it. I am betting a few of you were hoping I would stop writing this blog when I returned to the states; looks like you're shit out of luck because I plan to keep up with this whole blog thing for awhile. I plan on starting a blog in German as well once I figure out how to make umlauts on my computer. Fascinating, I know.

Well my pants have been traveling these last few days. What did I do on my last night in Munich? Watched a movie and packed. I was going to have a big glass of wine and watch my movie, but then I realized I still had a lot of packing to do and drinking alone is just sad. My flight back from Germany was stressful. I definitely felt the effects of 9/11 - America got attacked, so I got strip searched by a 300 pound lesbian at London Heathrow Airport. My hair kept beeping as I went through security so she took much pleasure in thoroughly patting me down... six times. I was uncomfortable. The ripple effect of that day can be seen everywhere. There are separate entrances in the Allianz arena in Munich for men and women because everybody gets searched before they can enter to watch the game. Airport security is ridiculous- my extensive pat-down almost made me miss my flight to Minnesota. I had to plead with the gate agent to let me board the flight because they closed the gate off already. The rest of the trip was alright. I only cried three and a half times on the plane ride home. They lost my baggage and I left my Bayern Munich flag on the plane, so that accounted for some of my tears. I dragged that flag halfway across the world and then left it on the plane. It was a frustrating day.

Back to Minnesota. I've been here for almost a week and am experiencing severe reverse culture shock. It's taking me forever to write this post because the American keyboards have all the keys in different places. Nobody smokes. I can't drink until November 17th. Driving under 100mph is absolutely no fun at all. I feel gross because I don't walk as much and am less active in general. Yesterday, I saw an advertisement that repeatedly stated, "America cares about the world's resources and is a leader in recycling." I almost died laughing. We are the land of SUVs and excessive waste. But I guess cultural hypocrisy makes some people sleep better at night.

Everything reminds me of Munich. I was asleep when our plane was touching down, and when I opened my eyes I thought, "Oh, Munich!" Wait no. Southern Minnesota. Looks the same, but is very different. I heard all of the current American music on the radio in Munich. I finally got my shit together and unpacked my suitcases today... I kept the most random souvenirs (Sound of Music Tour ticket, soccer game ticket, U-bahn map, etc.) and they make me smile. I miss it. I go back for Oktoberfest in exactly one month so I guess I can't get too upset about it all. It will be tons of fun, but it won't be the same.

I learned one big lesson while I was away: Timing is everything. Things in Munich were really great - until life got in the way. I have to come back to finish my education. Things in Minneapolis are also great, but it's different and it's starting to change. I grew up here, I have childhood friends here, etc. But it is starting to become more difficult to relate to some of the people that I used to share everything with. Too much has changed. Our lives have taken us in completely different directions. Some of my high school friends... if we were to meet each other today, I don't think we would speak to each other. I plan on going back to Munich after I graduate. But what if the timing is bad? My friends there could be married, not with the company, not in the country, or dead (although I hope not.) Maybe the company won't exist. If that is the case, is this a situation I still want to pursue? I need to separate out what is pulling me back towards Munich - the people or the place. My mom keeps telling me that time has a way of sorting things out. Maybe my friends from Munich don't feel as strongly about me and will quickly lose touch.

Who knows... only time will tell.


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Danke... BITTE.

Wow. That's all I have to say about my last weekend in Munich. The fun started on Wednesday when Ali came to visit and didn't stop until around 3am on Sunday. I don't have any other way to organize this post except to break it down by each day... so here goes.

Wednesday- Ali came... we went out to a Mexican restaurant and then to a beer garden where we met these crazy old German men who played tricks on us the whole night. They told us the Seehaus was closed, the beer sucked, etc. Weird old German guys. But after a certain age I guess even the little things in life can be entertaining.

Thursday- dinner at this amazing Italian restaurant where I ran into my boss. When I say "ran into" I mean "he knew we were going to dinner there and wanted to see Ali." It was actually hilarious. Anyway, we had a good long dinner and then went to this bar with Peter and his friend Isabella. They had a bunch of German friends there so Ali and I hung out around the bar and met all sorts of interesting characters. There were the old, greasy Saudi Arabians who were dripping in oil money and looking for a pretty, young mistress to spoil. There were the young Germans, Christian and Erik, who were hammered (but very cute) and tried to convince us that they were secret spies and had to change identities. We got really confused so we just gave them nicknames - Blondie and Elvis. I was talking to Peter and some guy came up and started hitting on Ali in German... so I told him we were lesbians and to fuck off. Ali kissed me on the cheek to prove it.. but apparently we don't make very convincing lesbians (which in all honesty, I don't want to be a convincing lesbian, so that was fine with me.) We got home around 3 in the morning... all in all a good night.

Friday- public holiday, soccer game with Thomas, Marcus, and Nadine. When you think about wild things in Europe, two places come to mind: ridiculous European techno dance clubs and crazy soccer fans. I got to experience both this weekend. I figured I should join in the fun and get some sort of soccer t-shirt or something.... I stood in line at the gift shop for almost an hour before buying a scarf. Three people left the line, hands covering their mouths, because it was so crowded and hot that some people got sick. It was disgusting. Aside from the gift shop house of horrors, the game was amazing. It was the opening game of the season, so they had Paul Potts come and sing before it started...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1k08yxu57NA

Watch it. It gives me chills every time. Unfortunately, some of the crazy German soccer fans wouldn't shut up while he was singing so they kept having to turn his microphone volume up to be heard above the drunken cheers of "BAYERN!" My favorite moments of the game were when Munich scored. The announcer would say (in German, obviously, but whatever):

Announcer: Scoring for Bayern München, number 20.. Lukasss
Crowd of 69,900 screaming soccer fans: PODOLSKI
Announcer: Lukassss
Crowd of 69,900 screaming soccer fans: PODOLSKI
Announcer: LLUUKASSS
Crowd of 69,900 screaming soccer fans: PODOOOLLLLSKI!!!
Announcer: Munich..?
Crowd of 69,900 screaming soccer fans: TWO
Announcer: Hamburg..?
Crowd of 69,900 screaming soccer fans: ZERO
Announcer: Thank you.
Crowd of 69,900 screaming soccer fans: YOU'RE WELCOME.

My absolute favorite part was the end... the announcer would say "danke" and the drunk, capacity crowd at the Allianz Arena would scream "BITTE." I think I laughed for a solid five minutes straight. It was hilarious. After the game we went to an Irish pub where they played amazing American music and more drunk soccer fans gave me free beer at the bar. Awesome. I didn't end up going to sleep until around 5am, but it was an amazing night.

Saturday- Dear Christ this post is long. Okay Saturday was good... met up with Marcus and Nadine and we went to the Kuntspark... which looks just like Las Vegas. It's club, after club, after club... it's insane. Unfortunately, I thought we were just going to a bar so I was NOT dressed for going clubbing. The night before, Marcus joked that apparently when you say the words "American intern" everybody thinks of Monica Lewinsky. So they were joking that I was Monica. Uhhh, not cool. So since we were just going to a bar (I thought), I wore a very conservative crew neck sweater and a headband. Very preppy, very good-girl, the complete opposite of Monica. Yeah and then we ended up going out to clubs. Whoops. I tried to make the best of it, and made it my mission to find guys on the dance floor who were either making drunken fools of themselves or were just really shy and I would go "help" them. I felt kind of like a third wheel to Marcus and Nadine, so this ended up working out pretty well. Once again, I met all sorts of characters. There were the drunk English guys who were there for a bachelor party and taking turns wearing this ridiculous grey wig. There were the cool German guys who didn't want to dance; they just sipped their drinks against the wall and looked for girls. Of course, there was the extremely overweight Saudi guy who thought he was god's gift to women- after I turned him down for a dance, he found some other girl and said, "Jealous?" Nope. Not one bit. I danced for a while with this Italian guy who got really pushy... but I guess he was just being Italian. Lastly, there was the dumbest guy I have ever met in my entire life. His pickup line was, "oh, you from America?! I was in New York one week before September 11th."

SERIOUSLY?? Oh man. That is the worst line I've ever heard, including the guy who asked me and Margo to go to Burger King with him. We were in the middle of the dance floor, having a good time and singing along to "Summer of 69" (which is apparently a really popular song here) and he is telling me about terrorist attacks. We left shortly thereafter and I went home to have a tipsy conversation with my sister before going to bed.

It was the perfect ending to my time here. I couldn't have planned a better weekend. So now, I'm sitting at work with no work to do and I can't believe that in 24 hours I'll be on a plane back to the US. I guess there's only one thing I can say....

Elizabeth: Danke
Germany: BITTE.


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"What the fuck did I just get myself into?"

The first few weeks in Munich passed like a blur. I met my coworkers, started work, and got settled in a new city in a new country with a new language. I don't remember the fine details of the beginning, but they have mixed into an overall pleasant memory. It's funny that I can't remember the first few weeks here, but I clearly remember my first words upon landing in Munich. The plane was sitting on the runway and we still hadn't taken off our seat belts. I had spent the last ten minutes in silence watching the patchwork of farms and white houses with red roofs pass below me as we landed and trying to ignore the screaming child sitting three rows behind me. Still in a sleepy stupor, I looked out the window on the runway and said to nobody in particular:

"What the fuck did I just get myself into?"

It wasn't until I landed in Munich did I realize that I would actually be leaving for the summer. I'm a smart, I know. This fact probably would have dawned upon most people when they updated their passport or packed their suitcase. 14 hours of travel (and one connection through London Heathrow) later, I realized, "Holy shit. What did I just do?"

I enjoyed having Maggie and Ali come to visit because their culture shock and first impressions help me fill in my memory of those first hazy weeks. Maggie was stunned that German people looked stereotypically German - tall, broad shoulders, strong jawline, etc. Ali is surprised by some of their behavior - Germans have a very specific way of doing things, but they don't tell you what that is. You have to figure it out. For example, taxis are not hailed in the street, they are sitting at a taxi stand. You can't pay with a credit or debit card at the grocery store, and there's some sort of deposit system to get a cart to put your groceries in (which I still haven't figured out, so I just don't buy as much food at once and instead go shopping more often. Efficient, I know.) On the escalator, people stand single-file on the right and people walk up on the left. If you are standing on the left, even if nobody is trying to walk up and pass you, you'll still get dirty looks from older Germans.

All too quickly, my time here is drawing here to a close (for now.) Tomorrow is a national holiday - I plan to spend it sightseeing with Ali during the day and watching soccer with Thomas and Marcus at night. Monday is my last day of work, which will be followed by frantic packing at night and my flight on Tuesday morning. To answer my initial question - what the fuck did I just get myself into - I think I got myself into many embarrassing moments, new relationships with friends I've met here, a great job that I hope to return to one day, and many memories (even if they are a bit blurred from time to time.) All in all, this has been the best hasty decision I've made... ever. I'm going to give myself a pat on the back and finish some translations. Ciao :)


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I'll be back.

Whenever something unpleasant is going to happen in my life I just want to get it over with. Rip the band-aid off, say the bad news first, take the test first thing etc. Just get it over with. I know I have to leave Germany in less than a week. Very unpleasant. But, I can't "get it over with," because time is one stubborn son-of-a-bitch.

It's a weird contradiction - I don't want to leave Germany, but I can't stay. And since I have to return to the US within a week I'd rather just leave now. The waiting is killing me. I have already packed up most of my room, minus the essentials that I'll need for the next five days. Anxious. I am anxious.

In all fairness, I packed up my room mostly out of boredom. I didn't get to go to Paris or Frankfurt this weekend, and I missed work yesterday. My body decided that it would be the perfect weekend to get really, really sick. I spent most of my weekend in bed with my covers pulled up to my chin, reading a Russian spy novel that scared the shit out of me. I kept having nightmares that some KGB thug was going to break in during the night and kill me in my sleep. It didn't help that people have come into my apartment past midnight before - my office decides to let my temporary roommates surprise me instead of telling me about it ahead of time. It's not a fun surprise, especially when one temporary roommate caught me napping on the couch wearing nothing but stockings and a tank top. We had a very awkward two nights. Another neurotic roommate thought it would be a good idea to rearrange the furniture at 2am. Fun. I almost pulled a Russian spy move on his ass but instead got my revenge by waking up really early and not bothering to be quiet.

So when I wasn't sleeping, watching the Olympics (GO PHELPS!), or reading my really scary book, I was packing. Mostly out of boredom, partly out of anxiety. I wish time would pass faster... but it has an uncanny ability of slowing down in times like these. Son of a bitch.

I know most of these posts have been about how much I love Germany, because I do. But there are a few things I miss about the US:

- Sunday brunch. Pancakes, waffles, french toast, eggs, omelets, oatmeal.... obviously not all in one sitting but man oh man, American brunch is amazing.

- Stores that are open 24 hours a day. Most things here close around 6pm, staying open until 8pm is a big deal. Whoa, don't get too crazy there.

- No fucking bike lanes. After many near misses, I finally got hit by a bike. Twice.

- My family.

- Catching up on Weeds, The Tudors, and my other favorite TV shows that I missed while I was here.

- J.Crew: my favorite store. American fashion. None of this weird punk rock shit. No mullets (unless they're a farmer or a hockey boy, in which case it's acceptable.)

- Going skating. The state fair. Being Minnesotan (which is like German-lite.)


Even though I want to, I can't stay here. But, in the words of my favorite Austrian: "I'll be back."



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Red state, blue state... yellow state, green state?

Let's see... Where can I go to escape the circus that is known as American politics? Germany. Ah yes, the fatherland is almost halfway across the world and there, I can find peace.

Wait, no. The circus has come to town.

There are two men fighting to be the ringmaster. McCain- lion tamer, captain of the straight talk express and war veteran. Obama- the fire eater, master orator, and advocate of change. People in Germany keep asking me which corner I'm in; red elephants or blue donkeys. Maybe they think its a safe subject of conversation with an American, or maybe they just don't know me that well. Honestly? I don't care who becomes the ringmaster of this circus. Things can't get worse than they already are. Either choice would be better than our current situation.

I'm not voting.

I don't like politics. I don't like people who aren't genuine. People who never get angry, never screw up, never tell someone to go fuck themselves (which I would have done to the head of the NAACP for saying he wanted to cut Obama's nuts off. Go fuck yourself.) Politicians do exactly that. They spend the primary season proving how much of a democrat or republican they are- how far to the left or right they are- and the election season proving how close to the center they are. It is a profession rife with con artists and shady financiers.

Wharton has taught me well about the golden rule: whoever has the gold makes the rules. Call me jaded, I don't care. We elected Bush (twice) but the people we really elected (twice) were those that paid for his campaign- the oil companies.

But these are not the reasons why I refuse to vote. I think that in order to vote, you should have a complete knowledge of each candidate's stance on the issues. Idiots are elected by idiots. In order to drive you have to get a drivers license. You have to prove that you know the rules of the road and can navigate the obstacles accordingly. I feel the same way about voting.

In an ideal world every voter would be completely informed and have to prove their knowledge before casting a ballot. I understand why this is not practical and cannot be implemented. There are logistical issues- who would pay for it, where would it be held, how could it be handled in a non-partisan way. There are rights issues- some people won't be able to fully understand the information and it is unconstitutional to refuse them the vote because they're intellectually incapable of comprehending it.

My problem? I just don't care. I don't have the motivation to seek out the.necessary information. I don't feel comfortable voting because I don't know enough about each candidate and I don't care to research it. Ask me any question about the financial system, decisions made by the fed, macroeconomic fluctuations, etc. and I can give you an in-depth answer. Ask me any question about politics and I'll say, "...uh... Ask my sister. She's the political one."

Besides, my Wharton degree should pay off in ten years or so. Whoever has the gold makes the rules...


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hmmmm...

There's only one thing worse than being sick and away from home - being sick and alone and away from home. I feel kind of like someone ran me over with a truck. Hopefully I'll do something fun tonight to distract myself....

I don't really feel like posting today. Summary of my life - I feel like shit, I'm almost done with my internship, going to Paris and Frankfurt this weekend, Bayern München soccer game next week, aaand that's all folks.


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The great beyond.

Pumbaa: Hey, Timon, ever wonder what those sparkly dots are up there?
Timon: Pumbaa, I don't wonder; I know.
Pumbaa: Oh. What are they?
Timon: They're fireflies. Fireflies that, uh... got stuck up on that big bluish-black thing.
Pumbaa: Oh, gee. I always thought they were balls of gas burning billions of miles away.
Timon: Pumbaa, with you, everything's gas.

My weeknights in Munich pretty much look like this: eat dinner, pick up the apartment, go for a run, shower, read part of a good book, and go out on the balcony to look at the stars. Even though I live really close to the altstadt and the light pollution that comes with living in a big city, I can still see the stars. There was one particularly shiny one out last night that I looked at for a bit before realizing it was the North Star. I found the Big Dipper, Orion's Belt, and a number of constellations that look nothing like their namesakes.

Whenever we went on camping retreats in middle school, Emily and I usually found ourselves laying on the dock at night and looking up at the stars. This activity inevitably brought up the questions "why are we here?", "are we alone in the universe?", and "what the hell am I doing with my life?" For some reason looking at the stars filled us with the need to try and tackle these profound matters. For me, instead of pondering the reason for human existence, looking at the stars is relaxing. Their twinkling reminds me of a flash in a friend's eye when they're thinking something particularly mischievous. Their pattern is fixed - from Minnesota to Munich we could look at the same constellations forming the same connect-the-dots patter across the sky. I can't really explain it, but it's just nice.

Some people apparently get very stressed about what happens in outer space beyond the range of our spacecraft. Recently on Larry King Live, they had a debate about what happened at Area 51, do aliens exist, have they visited earth, etc. The theories that some people came up with were ridiculous! One woman spent five minutes discussing her belief that "aliens" were really us, from the future, coming back to the past to prevent Earth from fucking up. I'm surprised Larry King didn't burst out laughing. The people that swore on their lives that they have had contact with aliens usually start out their stories with "well... I had been drinking" and "well I don't remember but my cousin Bubba said..." They also usually have a thick Texas accent and often bring religion into the debate - mostly saying that God is punishing us for... not drilling for offshore oil? Wait no, that's not right. Whooops Bets, stay away from the political jabs...

And now I must take my head out of the stars and return to land... especially because I was late to work today and have a ton of shit to do.


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Gut, besser, am besten.

I'm thinking it's time to do another "the good, the bad, and the ugly" post.

The good:
Hm. Tough one. It's tough because there's so many things that fall into the "good" heading. Work is going well; I'm having a meeting with my boss today to recap what work I've done over the summer and lay out a plan for my last week and a half here. Friends are good; looking forward to seeing my Minnesota and Penn friends, and German friends sind gut, wie immer (are good, as always.) Pretty weather, pretty city, and pretty people. Seriously, Munich has some of the most beautiful people I've ever seen. Well done :)

To recap: life is pretty darn fantastic right now. Das leben ist gut.

The bad:
I don't want to leave. I will be coming back to Germany in the future, that's not the problem. The problem is this - I will have a stronger resume if I work somewhere else next summer. Different field (finance probably), different country (the US). I am afraid that if I turn down an opportunity to come back to Germany next summer that they won't want to hire me after graduation. I love the company, the people, and munich. I will be coming back. But... it might not be next summer. I agree that I'll be more valuable to the company if I have experience in many different places... but it sucks. Majorly sucks. The plan? School, summer internship somewhere in Minnesota probably, school, Germany. Oh, and I'll be visiting every chance I get. It's still not the same.

To recap: I love Germany.

The ugly:
My German. God fucking dammit. One week of only english with Mags and I suck. I make the dumbest grammatical errors in front of my boss. Wait no, he's my boss's boss. The president of the company. And he makes me feel really, really stupid when I mess up. Fuck.

To recap: I should never speak.

This weekend - Munich on friday and saturday, Paris on Sunday, Frankfurt on Monday. Not too shabby.


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Sometimes a girl just needs to yodel.

Remember the days before digital cameras? Taking pictures was a special event, you couldn't check every picture two seconds after it was taken, people didn't put up "photoshoots" of themselves on facebook, and a weekend out didn't necessarily involve a camera. Yeah, I don't remember those days either. In our increasingly digital age, pictures are everywhere (even ones you wish nobody would ever see.) Interestingly enough, the best parts of my week-long vacation with Maggie were not captured on camera. We took as many pictures as Asian tourists, but the best moments still eluded photos. Pardon the pun, but here are a few "snapshots" from our vacation. I'll do my best to paint a picture for you, dear readers, because there is no photographic evidence of these events.

- Ever since I accepted the internship in Munich, my mom has been going on and on about the Sound of Music tour. "Salzburg is only an hour and a half away by train, so you can go on the tour any weekend! You don't even have to book in advance!" When we got to Salzburg, I thought she might kill us if we didn't take the tour. Four hours on a bus singing along to music with a bad tour guide in lederhosen didn't really sound like my cup of tea, but we took one for the team. Despite the cheesy nature of the tour, it ended up being a lot of fun. Rather, Mags and I decided to make it fun. There were two parts in particular that still make me laugh: we yodeled and went ass-backwards up an Alp. Yodeling: you know the song from the movie called "The Lonely Goatherd?" It's a fairly difficult song to sing, but fun to listen to. Everybody on the bus got kind of quiet when it came on, but not me and Maggie. We sang the different parts, knew the harmonies, and pretty much embarrassed the shit out of ourselves. I didn't realize we were the only two singing, but apparently we were (and everyone else was just listening to us. Great.) At the end of our performance, the tour guide thanked us for bringing the "music" back into the tour. Fantastico. Going ass-backwards up a mountain: they had this contraption where you could take a chairlift up the mountain, and roll down on this sled with wheels on the bottom. But instead of a chairlift, they attach a chain to your ass. So we literally went ass-backwards up a mountain and balls first down it (except we don't have balls, but "crotch first" just didn't have the same ring to it.) It was probably the most fun I've had since the first time I went on the autobahn.

- Sloppy Mags made a comeback this weekend. (Note to Jonboy: two mojitos and the girl is d-r-u-n-k.) My favorite part came when she drunkenly tried to carry her huge backpack upstairs. I pushed her sideways and thought she was going to fall over and die. We then proceeded to have one of those drunk talks about our life plans that goes in circles and neither of us remembered in the morning. The best part? I could have taken her to one of the hundreds of bars, clubs, or biergartens in Munich. Instead, we got tipsy on mojitos at the Mexican place less than 50 ft. from my apartment and finished off our drunken night with a bottle of wine at my place. Classy.

- I didn't die on the autobahn. My boss, who was way too nice to us, lent us his BMW Z3 convertible for the weekend. It was one of the first 100 ever made, black with black leather interior, it is in amazing condition, and he figured we could take it for a week or so to go play in the mountains. Did I mention that it was a stick shift? Did I mention that neither of us knew how to drive a stick shift? Thank goodness Mags is a fast learner and that German cars were made to stand some abuse. If either one of those conditions didn't hold, I'm quite sure we would have died. It all turned out well in the end though. I took a picture of Maggie driving on the autobahn (and popping her 100mph cherry without killing us) but it just doesn't quite translate onto film. You had to be there.

- We went to Neuschwanstein with Marcus - it is known as the "Disney Castle." The scenery is truly breathtaking. It is set between two mountains with a beautiful town and lake at the bottom... I have never seen anything like it. However, Mags and I were too busy fighting with our souvenir wooden swords to pay much attention. Every person over the age of fifteen looked at us with contempt, like, "really? REALLY? Wooden swords?" Every kid under the age of ten looked at with jealousy; "I want one!" It was, hands down, the best eight euro I've ever spent. Whenever Maggie pissed me off, I poked her with my wooden sword and everything was better.

- One of the most embarrassing moments of my life happened yesterday; Marcus insisted that we had to try the German white sausages. These sausages are special - you don't eat the casing on them. You just eat the insides. There are a variety of ways to get the casing off of the sausage- you can cut off the top and peel it, you can slice it down the middle and peel it off, or you can eat it the traditional Bavarian way. The traditional way to eat it is this: put the sausage in your mouth, bite down lightly (but don't break the casing) and suck the sausage out. You don't need a picture to imagine what this looks like. Unfortunately, Roland got a picture of it anyway. Wow.

Even though we did take pictures, hopefully the best parts of our trip live on as vivid memories rather than two-dimensional images.

I only have two weeks left here, so I am planning to fill them with adventures. This weekend I'm going to either Hamburg or Paris for Sunday and then going to Frankfurt on Monday. That leaves Friday night and Saturday afternoon to hang out with friends or just play by myself in Munich before taking the night train up north. Next weekend I might go to this beautiful lake in Northern Italy for a couple of days, but it's kind of sad to take a romantic trip by yourself. Oh well.



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