In case y'all thought I was a raging narcissist...

I was never actually intentionally following my own blog. Still not sure how that happened...but I managed to un-do it!

Yay for that and yay for being back in the Hauptstadt.

Caio for now, Kinders.

Viva Italia

So some of you clever folks might have gotten the memo that the Schatz and I went to Italy for a week. Florence, to be precise. And the even trickier ones of you have already cruised through my selection of photos posted at a certain social-networking site.

Be that as it may, I would be remiss I suppose, if I didn't post my impressions and culinary exploits here. That's what this damn thing is for. Aaaand the german amazon hasn't quite gotten around to delivering my book to me here in Switzerland. Bastards.

So anyway, Italy.


Due to my inordinate and inexplicable love for italian food (my family is WASP through and through) and warm, sunny places, I have always imagined that Italy would be a happy place for me. You know, the kind of place you visit and it just clicks and you say "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE?!"

As you can see, I went with high expectations. Quite high.

I was not disappointed in the slightest.

I'll give you the less interesting things in a high-speed rundown:

Hotel: FANTASTIC. If you go, stay at the Hotel Cellai. The deskpeople are lovely, helpful and fluent in a variety of languages. Make sure you specify what kind of a room you want, because it's a boutique hotel, not Best Western. They have small rooms and pimp rooms. We asked and we received, if you know what I mean.

Shopping: Good enough to make a girl weak in the knees. They have (as apparently most European countries/cities do) annual sales in January/February and July/August. Really, really fantastic. Be prepared to hemorrhage money and be thankful for the opportunity.

Locals: Well, in the Summer, the city is overrun with Americans. Some of them look italian, some of them don't. The locals we encountered in retail and gastronomy were helpful and English-speaking. Bus/Tram drivers also very helpful, not so fluent in the foreign languages but verrry fluent in sign language. And you don't have the feeling that people are perpetually trying to snow you. Italy does somehow have that reputation and I can say that the worst thing that happened to us was that we got overcharged for one of the lemon sodas that the Schatz got addicted to during our stay. Really, coulda been a lot worse.

The City: Breathtaking. A little stinky in the summer because lots of the less fortunate like to pee in the sidestreets (do NOT assume that liquid on the ground is water, EVER.) but aside from that there is so much of the old architecture that's been preserved, so many goregous piazzas and cathedrals and duomos and old statues that you get the feeling you could change people's clothes and the stores and easily be in another century.
Funny related sidestory and the reason we have decent pictures of this escapade at all:
I actually set foot on this journey thinking that I'd be able to take all necessary photos with my phone. My old camera was broken in a drunken incident at the beginning of the year which I believe was also chronicled here, but bygones. Anyway I really did think that my lovely little BBbold would do Florence justice. We got in late and after dinner we went for a walk in the city. Just kind of meandering because that's what we do well and out of nowhere I saw this really breathtaking cathedral. The street ended in a huge central square and I'm staring at one of the most imposing churches I've ever seen (and as you know, I live on the old continent where they DO business churches). I looked at the Schatz, the Schatz looked at me and I said, "honey, we need a camera. NOW."
So we spent the first day asking around where the nearest, large electronics store was to be found. Successfully, might I add. Another testament to very helpful, English-speaking locals. So now we have a nice little sony. Nothing to write home about, but it got the job done.


That was the rundown. Now it's time for the grub.


The food we had was fantastic. We tried to do a good mix of everything--nice meals, street-food, take out, basic sit down meals so that we could get a real picture of what people eat there. Not just the tourists. I'm not going to write down everything we had, but I'll do a top 5. I'm not as good at food porn as Anthony Bordain, so I'm pretty sure a bite-by-bite chronicle of eight days worth of food might not be that entertaining.


(drumroll please.)

5. The mushroom strudel and the steak courses of our multi-course dinner. Divine.

4. Real buffalo mozarella in an insalata caprese. WHOAH. Real Mozarella TASTES like something!!!

3. Crazy things with rice. I in my ignorance, saw rice as the direct competition of pasta. This is not so.

2. These little fried soft salty chewy roll things we had the first night at dinner and never again.

1. PIADINE! Dear lord, find a place that serves them. Italian streetfood at it's finest. If you don't like it, you haven't had the right one yet.


I am now realizing that the things I liked the best and the things I took pictures of are two different kettles of fish. Probably because I was too busy stuffing my face with the deliciousness to commemorate the moment. Oh well. I do have what normal people would consider a ridiculous amount of food pictures. Most of which were taken before I realized that my camera had a specific setting for those types of pictures.







The motto of the story?

Go, try the shellfish and generally enjoy yourself. I highly recommend it.

Zürich is rainy and other thoughts

Hello lovelies.

Greetings from once-sunny now soaking-wet Zürich.

Normally I don't have too many problems with the weather. This Summer has been quite nice...some heat wave, low humidity, a bit of rain...but the thing is, I'm living out of a suitcase and I have been for the past 2 weeks. Due to ridiculous weight limits for inter-euro flights, I was only allowed a paltry 20 kg of luggage. This left no room for multiple cardigans or rain boots. Hell, the only close-toed shoes I have with me are my running shoes! Long pants are also underrepresented. This has to do of course with the weather while I was packing. The foreseeable future looked like HEAT WAVE.

Oh well.

While visiting the Kunsthaus yesterday (GREAT collection folks. Really. And Wednesdays are free entry. Go if you're here.) I got stuck in the rain. In leggings and birkenstocks. I was wearing a windbreaker which got the worst of it, but generally a weather-appropriate clothing FAIL. I therefore announced yesterday that should the weather again be so miserable, I would refuse to leave the house. So I'm here. Doing laundry, watching old school disney flicks and waiting for the DHL man to bring me my latest Politkovskaya book (side note: I love that woman.).

All in all, not a bad way to spend a day of vacation. The Schatz is worried that I'll be bored and cranky, but I tried to persuade him he's got nothing to worry about...unless the DHL man does not bring my book. In which case I will not be bored, just cranky.

But let me tell you a bit about Zürich.


I know I already posted an overview of the city, but now I've seen some more things, taken some better photos and generally been here a bit longer. So I feel like another post is in order. I might not have done the old girl justice before.

So. Zürich is not really that exciting. It is beautiful, clean and full of great luxury shopping if that's your thing. If you don't mind paying substantially more than you would elsewhere, Zürich is the place for you. However, being as I am, a fan of alternative funk, I'd been searching in vain since my first visit, trying to find at least a single street with a few funky hip stores doing cool things. All leads I thought I had turned out to be funky fata morganas, and I was getting discouraged. Lord knows I'd really racked up the kilometers traipsing through Zürich and searching. Finally I stumbled across a website of an exberlinerIn living in Züri and though she listed mostly things that were not anywhere off the beaten path, she mentioned a store called EINZIGART. (einzigart.ch) in the Josefstraße in Zürich. I put in on my list and did my daily wanderings which included the Haus Konstruktiv (very very cool: hauskonstruktiv.ch) and a loooong walk through Zürich's "red light district" (rather tame if you don't count the occasional junky and the ageing prostitutes). By the time I got to the Josefstr. I couldn't even remember why I wanted to be there. And I walked down the wrong end of it first--lots of neat restaurants and a lot of indian folk but no cool stores. So I walked down the more boring looking side and PRESTO, a la peanut butter sandwiches, I see the SHUALA concept store. I couldn't really believe my eyes, I went in and had a wander. It's one of those stores that's a dime-a-dozen in Berlin (spoiled, I know) featuring handmade stuff from various european grass-roots designers. (shuala.com) It's cool, but vasssstly overpriced. I bought a bag just to convince myself this wasn't another hipness mirage. I continued my meanderings and found all kinds of neat stuff, including said EinzigArt store (really, really neat stuff there folks.) and another store called something like Liliputans...it was full of the most unholy kitsch you have EVER seen. We're talking everything available in red-white polka dots, plastic flowers and childrens toys in shades of bright my eyes weren't used to. Di-vine.

I recommend walking the street from Langstraße to its end (Hafnerstr.) which is also a treat. Just around the corner is a store that blew my mind...Garten Eden, full of antiques, the odd plant and really great glassware. In the Hafnerstr. itself there are a few hip-seeming clothing stores, which I didn't bother checking out...they looked cool enough.

I can't tell you all what a relief this was to me. I felt quite guilty passing this city off as lametoast...turns out there are a few highlights after all.

The whole waterfront thing tickles me. Not the Züri See...it's nice but often very crowded with cosmetically augmented older women (botoxed face+bleached blonde extensions+silcone rack+short shorts with jiggly chicken legs = unaesthetic, sorry. I don't usually bodysnark, but if you are that gungho with the plastic surgery you kind of invite it.). I'm talking about the Limmat. It feeds into the Züri See along with the Sihl and if you walk upriver, you encounter some nice places to swim, grab a coffee and just enjoy the day. Unfortunately, due to all the rain, some have had to close. The river is getting a tad full.

There was also the Swiss Ironman here last weekend and this Sunday is apparently some kind of national holiday (hence, I believe, all the flag-action in the photos) involving fireworks. I'm almost sad to be flying out on that day.


But only almost. Really, I miss Berlin and my apartment and my friends and using the smart functions on my smartphone. Vacation is cool and all, but I kinda want to go home now.

Topp, die Wette gilt...

Hello, lovelies.

As usual, it's been far too long. I've had all kinds of time, especially this weekend. I've been feeling a bit under the weather, so I cleared my schedule to recover. I did important things like paint my finger- and toenails two different colors, sit on my balcony for hours, make chicken and rice for dinner, watch oodles of HSE and visit two markets.

Anyway, I've been up to all kinds of interesting whatnot since we've heard from eachother last. I got booster shots and an international immunization pamphlet from my Doc, got an EKG to check on my ticker, sworn off of watching Germany's Next Top Model...all kinds of terribly important things, as you can see.

Perhaps my most interesting undertaking has been to make a bet with my Schatz. Or the fact that my Schatz made a bet with me. Not of the nicest sort, I must warn y'all. As is known to my friends and acquaintances on the interweb, said Schatz is spending six months working for the Swiss in Zürich. He was here visiting over Pentacost (in the homeland of Protestantism, one gets long weekends for such things) and we got talking about my Great Loves. For example, pizza. I don't really care whether it's good, bad or frozen. I could eat it 8 days a week, 52 weeks a year, for the REST.OF.MY.LIFE. This presents a certain...problem for my figure.

I said that I would certainly be able to keep things under control with diet and exercise and not go all hedonist just because my Teutonic Half isn't around. He said I wouldn't.

I'm a lot of things, one of which is prideful.

This makes me an easy mark for bets of this nature.

If I manage to lose 5kg before the Schatz comes back at the end of September, I get to pick out a pimp electric toothbrush.

If I lose 7kg (which is about as likely as me going vegan), I get a kitchen aid mixer.

HOWEVER...

If I lose the bet, I have to do all the housework for 6 months...to the Schatz's standards.

I HATE cleaning. I'm not even good at it.

So.

I obviously have to win.

To my (dis)credit, I have never dieted in my life. I've never had to. I was a distance runner in my teens, and during college I was much too preoccupied with other things to be worried about my weight. Once I arrived in Germany, I was busy starting a new life to worry about losing weight. My weight has gone up and down in the last few years, but really all by itself. I've wondered at it, contemplated it...but never really tried to influence it one way or another.

Now it's game time.

I've been keeping a food diary, keeping track of everything I eat. It's embarassing sometimes, because it's never really been how I roll, but so far I'm doing an all right job. I get why people say that writing everything down is the first step. It's an epic pain in the ass to write down every cookie, every square of dark chocolate, every shot in my coffee. So you do less of it. It's easier that way.

It's Summer, so it's easier to skip the carbs and load up on salads and veggies. Still, I love noodles, like a fat kid loves...noodles. So I'm trying to cut back and when I do indulge, it's whole grain.

The other thing I'm trying to do is get the word out. If my friends don't know, they'll accidentally sabotage me. If they do know, they serve me whole grain noodles and/or brown rice when I'm there.

Other than that...I'm trying to not to inhale trucker-sized portions of everything.

...kinda thinking that might help a little.

We'll see.

In the meantime, I hope those of you who made the pilgrimage to Gambier played safe (& hard) and I also hope that my lymph nodes stop feeling like they're going to explode out of my neck.

Till then.

Visual Input

This is a saying from the Ivory Coast: "One cannot live without such beautiful things."

Good Afternoon!*

(Aren't these pretty?)

Hello, folks.

I'm not entirely sure this is in fact, a good afternoon...but I am determined to make it positive and not just productive (yes, it is a quarter past three European Central Time and I am FINISHED with my planning for the week. Normally I think about STARTING at this time. Ole!). So productive I have been.

Just not so positive. Despite a prettypretty princess bath and a chat with my Dearest. Perhaps it's the weather. Friday was so lovely and then Saturday and Sunday were so nondescript. Not warm, not cold, not sunny, not entirely cloudy...just terribly bland.

Perhaps it is also bland in regard to the last few days. I've been flitting all over tarnation, discovering delicious whatnots like Piadine (combines börek--a sort of turkish crepe usually filled with spinach and cheese or a ground meat mixutre only crispy and with FRESH italian fillings--procutto, arugula, fantastic cheeses) neat little shops full of neat little things, catching up with friends and just generally enjoying my lovely little pants off. I suppose that a Just Work Sunday is a bit of a let down.

Good, so now I've figured out where my general funk is coming from.

What about the other great mysteries of my life?

For example, why is there so much subtle residual glitter around here? I don't strike myself as the glittery type (unless of course there's a glitter epidemic at work. These things do happen. There will be a period of a few weeks where everything MUST GLITTER. Then of course, I'm covered in the damn stuff and it doesn't scrub off well, I can tell you.). For some reason, however, the back of my relatively new phone has a distinctly glittery sheen to it and when I washed the mattress pads and duvets, the next things to come out of my washing machine also had a sublte glittery sheen. Do I sweat glitter? I know I have a rouge that sort of shimmers...but I apply that to my FACE and not my ENTIRE APARTMENT. My lotions do not glitter and I have one body powder that does. Which I don't often use, due to the fact that body powder is kind of tricky to apply. The bathmat usually winds up looking like some kind of glittery drug explosion just happened...

So this is my question to you, folks. Where doth this glitter come from? And why?

This is what I think about instead of plotting my next career move. Or dreading my next career move. I don't dread going back to school. I'm all for it. It was my idea. I feel baldy for the people I'm going to be hurting/leaving behind. Which then leads me to contemplate the idea of living your life for other people. I think there's a difference between being selfless and loving and really basing every major decision in your life on someone else. I know, I've been doing one and attempting the other. I'll leave it to you, fair readers, to figure out which is what. Be that as it may, I know I have to move on and do Something Else with my Life. I even have an idea as to what that Something Else could be. At least a vague one. At the moment, it's a question of bureaucracy and finances. Two great loves of mine. Just kidding. You'd be hard pressed to find two things I dislike more. I also know it's time for me to (wo)man up and take care of the uncomfortable business in my life myself. Without diversions or excuses.

Ugh.

It's just that I hate uncomfortable business. We're talking about people who have trusted in me, given me responsibility and money and who are counting on me. And I don't think they're going to see it coming. I just want to do the Right Thing...that is of course, without having to work there for the rest of my professional life.

Anyway. Enough of that.

I feel like I've been so productive today that I MUST be forgetting something. It's just not possible that all of my planning and printing is already done, school work included. I keep thinking of other things I might maybe have to do...and I can't come up with anything, other than to call my parents (but not until 6pm CET) and clean the apartment--and if there's anything else to be done, I'd rather do that first.

*think think*

*think think*

I can't think of a thing.

However, I did have a perfect Eiskaffee yesterday (coffee with vanilla ice cream and in this case, whipped cream, chocolate sauce and sprinkles) and my friend Carina had the perfect little strawberry ice cream mini sundae. And there are pictures.

*I am almost certain that I've already shared the anecdote of my maternal grandfather always saying "GOOD AFTERNOON!" in a resounding voice whenever we woke up after spending the night there. He was always up first, even when we were little and treated 8am as if it were 2pm. Whenever someone says "Good Afternoon" to me in a pleasant, normal voice, I think of my grandfather trumpeting this greeting throughout the entire house.

In that same spirit,

GOOD AFTERNOON!

Enjoy the last vestiges of weekend, lovelies.

The Rest of Züri

So my lovelies,

I promised to finish my review of Zürich when I got back to Berlin.

Here's the rest of the story.

I was another few days in the city and I feel like it was enough to get a picture of the place. I know that to really know a city, you need to live there. And I don't live in Zürich, obviously. So all of what I'm going to let loose here is pretty much my subjective, prejudiced, reactionary ramblings.

In other words, business as usual.

I deliberately tried to do as little as possible while I was there. I work a helluva lot and this was kind of supposed to be something like a vacation. So I slept a lot and spent a lot of time people watching by the Zürich Lake. And staring at the Alps. You've got to hand it to the city--it's clean, the air is fresh and the scenery surrounding it is breathtaking. There are lush parks and the promenade along the lake is dotted with the perfect amount of benches. Pretty much the way you would imagine something created by the Swiss. They're thorough.

They're also filthy rich. I've never, in all my travels seen as many jags, ferarris and lambos registered to the same city. Mercedes and BMWs were, like...middle-class cars. The main street was full of your rank and file designer stores and the fun of course doesn't stop there. The whole city is full of lovely narrow alleyways that remind one of falling down a rabbit's burrow. There are neat little indie stores and even more ridiculously posh stores. The Swiss seem to like to buy their ladies lots of expensive jewelery and the women seem to take their interior decoration verrrry seriously. 2 Bedroom apartments cost around 2,500 chf (the frank is about on par with the dollar) wherever you want to rent in the city. The pimp cars you see are usually cleaned--for those of you who aren't filthy rich enough to know, this means that the only thing

you see on the back of the car is the audi emblem (or the ferarri, jag, etc.) --no information about the dealer, the engine, etc. It's cool to be discrete, apparently.

The city as I said is nice. The people are friendly if a bit reserved, and very polite. The city proper has a population of around 400,000--including all surrounding suburbs it's mayyyybe a million. This of course can't hold a candle to Berlin's 4 million inhabitants--not counting the surrounding bedroom communities. (You guys know I don't really do numbers, so these are not figures I've in any way researched, they're just things I've been told. If you really want to know, wiki it.)

I'm going to let you in on something.

I am not so much the outdoorsy type.

Zürich is full of people who ski, hike, climb and just generally love nature. I like nature, but I don't love it. I grew up in lots and lots and lots of nature. It refreshes me to visit it. I do not,

however, need to climb a mountain every weekend to get my kicks. Most people in Zürich do.

I'm going to tell you something else.

I currently live in a city that is the love of my life (Don't fret y'all, Stephan knows this. He's not thrilled, but he understands). If you can love a place more than anything, that's how I love this city. Travelling is great, but there always comes a point where I say, "ok, the party's over, it's time for me to get back to MY city". If I'm going to be enthralled by a new place, it's got to beat out Berlin in several different categories, a few of which are:

Funk/Flair

Character

Culture

Creativity

Action

...

I'm sure after I post this, I'll think of more, but these are the first few that come to mind. As you can see, beauty is missing from this list. I do not ask for beauty in a city. That's what makes it nice, but that's not what makes me love it. I can love ugly things. Not everyone can. Funk is important, character is important, things like art and music and theater are important (even if I don't go nearly often enough), and you've got to have bars, restaurants and clubs to go to, depending on what your thing is.

Zürich is a great place to spend time. It's probably also a great place to raise a family. A wonderful place to spend an outdoorsy vacation.

However, it's not necessarily anyplace I'd want to live, despite businesses throwing lovely flowers into historic fountains just because it's Easter.

Hope you're all well and that Spring has sprung in your respective areas.

love and swiss cheese,

Berliner Halbmarathon & de Schwiiz

So. To all those of you who were wondering...

I did run that half marathon on March 28th. Although I felt prepared and although I had trained since mid January for this event, including 2 full-length training runs, it still kicked my sorry arse. Despite years and years of race experience, I still managed to go out wayyyy too fast over the first 5k. Silly of me, really...but running with 27,000 other people through my city just made my heart go so pitapat that I couldn't really control myself. On the whole, it was much more beautiful and amazing than I had imagined and much more terrible and painful. The organizers, SCC running said after the fact that ca 170000 Berliners came out to cheer for the racers. I believe them. There was no part of the route where there weren't spectators lining the course, cheering and holding signs. Bands came and set up shop and played and sang along the course, drumming groups drummed...it was like a festival. It kind of restored my faith in humanity to see all those people come out, you know? The weather was not the greatest. It was cloudy and blustery and approximately 10 °C, if that says anything to you. Above freezing, but a tad on the chilly side. Then it rained. Then the sun came out and it was glorious...except that I kind of wanted to stop and die at that point. People taking off their jackets and repinning their start numbers were faster than I was at this point.

Be all that as it may, my years of training paid off in that I was still able to sprint the finish (although some guy in a wheelchair cut me off directly at the finish...@$%&!) and I got all 21.5K done in less than two hours, which was my goal.

Now I'm on vacation in Zürich for a week and a half. Stephan's got an internship here for the next six months and I decided to stop by on the front end to bring him some stuff and check the place out. I've been here since Thursday night and it's quite nice. The people are very friendly, their dialect is a bit on the wonky side, but the city is impeccably clean (especially in comparison to Berlin), the houses are old and charming, and the view of the Alps from Stephan's place is rather breathtaking. The only catch so far are the prices...it's comparable to New York. I just find it silly in this picturesque little city to pay world-class metropolis-prices--we're talking $8 for a kebap, between $4 and $6 for a coffee...I'm used to being able to eat my way around the world for like, $10 for an entree. I know, I'm spoiled, Berlin is a gastrointestinal paradise...I'm working on getting used to the fact that other places have other prices. Oh well, I'm on vacation. I'm hoping the weather gets nice and I can spend some time down at the Züri See (Zürich Lake) next week while Stephan's working. I've been taking a few pictures and I hope to get them posted once I get home--I left all the proper cables in Berlin. : /

Hope you all had a great Easter. I'll finish my review of Zürich when I get back to the Fatherland.

NewPost

I'm not entirely sure what merits posting today...probably the fact that this weekend is starting off mellow and I actually have TIME to post. AMAZING. Well, we all know that one makes time for what's important...I could be working on a paper for a class called (translated) Creating Living Rooms for Children. By that of course they don't mean living rooms in the American sense of the word, but Living.Rooms. Rooms where children live. You know?

...I don't. Well, I do, but it doesn't interest me a hoot to describe the rooms at work and how they could be improved. And I have an introduction already. So there.

Anyway. We've had a few wild weekends behind us with some spontaneous dinner parties that turned into overnights, me visiting some of my no-longer-work kids, a pro basketball game, gallery visits, more dinners and a whole helluva lot of kilometers. It's been fun. Apparently, it's also been exhausting. So much so that Stephan has actually opted for a formal nap IN BED instead of just dozing off to soccer on the couch. The boy never naps. He's a high-energy morning person. I nap. Whenever I can. I know it's going to be a tough day when I wake up and try to figure out when my next opportunity to nap will be. But enough of that.

Things here are rolling merrily along. We rediscovered the weekly market at Boxhagener Platz on Saturday mornings last week in a fit of sunlight induced spring fever. I bought a few magnolia branches which I'm trying to coax into opening their buds and we decided the culinary delights of this market could not possibly be enjoyed on one morning, so we vowed to return. And we did, today. With the express purpose of eating breakfast. They have such lovely things! Whole roasted fish, turkish breakfasts, waffles, swiss speacialities, sausage by the ton and everything fresh enough to sass you back and flanked by goregous produce. We chose to get a big mix of turkish goodness at one of the stands--my chickpeas in sauce, stuffed eggplant and chicken with mixed veggies didn't disappoint...although it did leave me with a hankering for really good turkish steetfood. I had stuffed mussels from some random vendor after a night of dancing with my landlady and her friends back in the day which occasinoally haunt me still. Is that what being a foodie is all about? I think so. Some things I've eaten just don't let me go. Another example would be the potato salad from Stephan's Grandpa. I could lay down and die happy in a bowl of it. Or his stuffed mushroom caps! The man can cook. He sent us a package of cured meats the other day which has had Stephan making himself secret sandwiches since.

Speaking of mushroom caps, one of the stands this morning had the HUGEST white mushroom caps ever. I got so excited when I saw them...and had to have them. I know they're not going to be close to what Stephan's Grandad can do, but I'm going to try. I'm envisioning a ground beef filling with elements of rosemary and feta cheese. Oooh, I'm already getting hungry. This isn't good.

Aside from the edible experiences of the last few weeks about which I could go on and on...things have been busy and I'm glad to have a weekend where not so much is going on to just kick back and relax. We're meeting friends later on for drinks...but just drinks, not dinner and not here for a change. Also refreshing. I love hosting. I love having people over and cooking and eating and wining together...but sometimes it's great when the action happens someplace else. However, the trip last Sunday to the Berliner'sche Galerie in Kreuzberg was fantastic. Well worth breaking my rule that nothing wild and social happens on Sundays. I went with a friend of mine who did some modeling work for them a while back. The exhibit was great...some really bizarre, thought-provoking art from the corporate collection of a natural gas company here in Berlin. I'd never really thought about it, but I guess it often happens that companies diversify their portfolios and that in large companies some of that "corporate art" hanging around might just be galery worthy. Let me tell you, the GASAG has some cool stuff. It's well worth a visit, although the neighborhood is a bit crap. Not dangerous or anything, just...nothing there. At least not in comparison to the bopping enclaves I'm used to in Berlin.

As interesting as all this is, I can't really surpress my hunger any more, so I'm going to go cruise the kitchen. I got some yummy greek yogurt today, and I think it's time has already come....

love and delicacies!

Catchup Post

Hello Kinners!

(Berlin'risch for "Kinders", which in Real German is actually "Kinder" which in English is...."children"--not meant condescendingly, much more conspiratorially.)

Good afternoon to you all.

I'd've loved to have posted sooner, but you know, I was kind of busy trying to get a year started. My sincere apologies. Really. I know you out there in the interweb have been hankering for my double conjunctions and rambliness (oh, and did I mention the made up words?).

I think I can say after about a month and a half, this year is off and running. 2009 had a tendency to beat me up and steal my lunch money, among other things. Twentyten is going to be better of course (aren't they always?) but I have an inkling that things will be just as challenging.

To save time and space and my wrists, I'm going to give you the quick and dirty version of all the silly whatnot, drama, wonder and beautiful scenery I've been bopping around in since we

last heard from eachother.

Let's rock.

1. The Karkonosze.

Looked something like this. This lovely chalet was apparently a best-kept secret among the nordic skiiers in Bedrichov. You could get delicious czech food for silly prices in a wonderfully dark, mountainy atmosphere. Of course, being the foodies we are, Stephan and I couldn't resist. He had pheasant with those dense czech dumplings and I had venison with a lovely mushroom sauce. We were out of there for under $20 and it was so delicious. It came close to rescuing the whole vacation for me. I'm not going to get into too much detail, but suffice to say there was

pouting, a few yelling matches, some bewilderment, a few grudges and I won't be going on vacation with another couple (or 2) any time soon. I could have lived long and happily not knowing all the things I know about that crowd now.

But such is life, right?

2. Ringing in the New Year

Technically this is cheating, because we did ring in the New Year in the Karkonosze with That Crowd, but we did it at this random village party that our landlady told us about. They'd transformed some huge old soviet-style community center (there were murals of virtuous workers on the walls) into a place for a mixer for everyone under 80 from the surrounding 5 villages. It was ridiculous. Stephan had rousing conversations with the youth about soccer (what else?) and I beat all comers at the foosball table. And there was a pink wig involved in which we were

all photographed at some point.

3. I'm training for a half marathon.

Unfortunately, Berlin is covered in a thick layer of ice and snow, which occasionally turns into a thick layer of slush and then refreezes. This makes training difficult and has kicked my otherwise titanium immune system in the proverbial junk. I seem to pick up whatever bacteria are floating around in my general vacinity and take them for a test drive. This makes training tricky. I've got a little less than 2 months to double my mileage. It's going to be tight, folks.

4. There was the Lange Nacht der Museen.

I love the Lange Nacht. It commeth twice a year and I plan these outings with military precision which cannot be found in any other area of my life at any other time. This year, stops included: the Berliner Zoo Aquarium, a fanastic fashion photography exhibit at the Martin-Gropius-Bau, the very mediocre Film and Television Museum, an interesting exhibit of cover-jacket and poster art in the Kunstbibliothek and a depressing amount of religious iconography in the Gemälde Galerie (which reminded me why I'd never been there before).

I love aquariums. Not of the home variety...don't ask me why, but I'm not a fan. I love being in huge rooms just surrounded by even huger tanks of water full of fascinating creatures. It brings out the cancer in me, I think, being completely surrounded by water. I could lay down on a bench and sleep like a baby.

5. Sickness.

We're a bit out of order here, because technically, I was out of commission for the week before the Lange Nacht, but it was wretched. Stomach flu with all the fixings. I'll spare you the details, but it was noteworthy. Fastforward to now, which is me skipping my morning classes today to drink tea, take a eukalyptus bath and bond with the european homeshopping channel. I figured I have to give a course tonight and instead of doing everything today in a crappy/mediocre fashion, I could cut out a few things and do something well. We'll see if it works. I just know I also have to make it through the rest of this week somehow. Vive la Chamomile!

6. Matthias/Ladies Night.

Now we're back to recent things...like last weekend. Although Stephan and I have what we like to call our "rockstar" lifestyle, it usually does not include partying like said rockstars. It mostly includes eating like them...or eating really well, since I suspect that many rockstars subsist on pizza and random pills. This weekend, Matthias was in Berlin. Matthias of Rostock fame, who now lives in Hamburg who hasn't visited us in quite a while. It was great, but it was a bit on the ginsoaked side. Somehow it always is when we get together. We watched Bond, which is always good, but on Saturday I was invited to partake in a Ladies Night. Which is also something I don't do often. It wasn't ginsoaked, it was proseccosoaked. Oh dear, oh dear. On the way from Nici's house to the club, I think we entertained the entire subway. Without flashing anyone, which is perhaps a testament to the raucousness of the evening. In hindsight, I'm still pretty sure we were hilarious. I'm not going to pretend that Frannz is the end-all, be-all of the Berliner club scene, but it was appropriate for the evening. And they played almost all of the music we pregamed to. Since when is that not a win?

Somehow I think coming home at 6am on Sunday has something to do with my sniffleiciousness. However, I'm not that old yet, damn it...and I don't do it that often.

So.

It's official. You're all caught up. Mostly. Now I have to get caught up. I've got class to teach this evening, and I've got to finish the planning and perhaps get out of my nest here and get some photocopies made. And I need some sage tea. I'm fresh out and when you're feeling sniffly, there's nothing like sage tea. Chamomile is close, but sage is better. Take my word. You've got to get past the taste but once you do, it'll do you a world of good.

Anyway, I hope you all on the other side of the pond have managed to dig youselves out of your various snowpocalypses and are back to going about business as usual. Stay healthy and remember...the days are already getting longer. Spring is coming. I swear!

This post was brought to you by HSE24, Chamomile tea and my fuzzy pink blanket.

Weihnachtszeit, Weihnachtszeit...

Merry Christmas to you and yours, lovelies. Hope Santa was good to you all and that you got to spend some quality time with your loved ones. I cooked up a storm and will detail the menu for you when I get back from our trip to the Czech Republic. The Germans have a practical name for the mountains we're going to visit, they call them the "Riesengebirge". In Czech, they're called "Karkonosze"--except with a few less vowels. I'm hoping for snow, since the temperatures here aren't really Christmas-y. I'm not expecting to have internet in our lovely village hamlet, so I'll update when I get back. Hopefully.

Have a great and healthy New Year, folks. Drive safe, take care of each other.

What A Difference 3 Days Make...

I know it's not Christmas yet. 

I'm not entirely sure whether or not I've got the Christmas Feeling yet.

It is December 23rd, though. I've been on vacation officially since Monday and it's been fantastic. I was getting burnt out as hell and just generally quite sick and tired of all the horseshit flying all over the place at work. I don't know if I've mentioned it, but I've got a lot of different things on my plate at the moment, job-wise. My life does not unfortunately consist solely of throwing lovely dinner parties. On occasion, I really wish it did. Between work at the KiTa and school, I get my 40 hours/week. Add the various team meetings, planning sessions or parents meetings and we get another extra ten hours/month, give or take. I teach one adult ed class/week (2 1/2 hrs), have the banker once a week (1 1/2 hrs) and the psychiatric practice every other week(ca 2 hrs). The aforementioned gigs require quite a bit of prep work, which of course happens on weekends and after hours. 

Someone else can do the math, but suffice it to say, I've been busy. Which makes me appreciate two weeks where I've been able to clear my schedule completely of the aforementioned committments all the more. Even the weekends take on a different character. Sunday wasn't the first day of my work week this week. Normally I build a fort out of various books, magazines other printed resources and le laptop and plan all my lessons for the week. Vacation is great. 

Thus far, I've had the time to meet up with several of the Lovely Ladies who I've not had time to see for the last few months/weeks respectively. I showed our new french/british intern around my charming hipster neighborhood and entertained at least 3 times for dinner. And once for breakfast. I also drafted a behavioral analysis and organized and wrapped the rest of the christmas presents. And I've slept in. 

On the docket for today is a bath for the madame, a shopping list for the christmas eve viva italia dinner and perhaps my second behavioral analysis. There's a planning session set for 2pm for our trip to the Karkonosze Mountains on the Czech/German/Polish border. We're going with two other couples, which has not served to make the planning any easier. I'm a lone wolf when it comes to travelling. I do not like making compromises. When I'm someplace I've worked hard to be able to visit or perhaps have always dreamt of visiting, I want to do what I want to do and my companions can take it or leave it. This isn't really one of those instances--I have not always dreamt of visiting the Karkonosze but I do have a pretty clear idea of how my side of this vacation is going to go down. I will make minimal compromises, but god help the asshat that wakes me because breakfast is ready. I.WON'T.CARE. I'm paying money to squirrel myself away in a little snowy house in the mountains to relax, do a bit of skiing, appreciate real winter and snow, but mostly to relax. I do not anticipate further trips of this nature. Although Stephan and I are pretty equally strong-willed in most other things, when it comes to travel, he usually lets me run the show...I think because even he has to realize that I've got a damn sight more experience than he does. 

Anyway, enough ranting. I know it sounds ridiculously egoistic. And kind of negative. But I do think/hope it's going to wind up being a good time, as long as they don't get too german (read: retentive) about cashmoney, food, etc. I mean...we're friends in real life. We should be able to manage a week's vacation. I'll keep y'all posted, but it's bathtime on the farm. If I don't get a chance, I wish you all wonderful holdiays and safe travels with people you love.

Be safe and know that I'm thinking of you!

stressstressstressstress

Oh me, oh my...time does fly!

I was shocked to find out that November had finally come to a close. I felt like it was a big secret that I just wasn't in on. I also felt terribly unprepared for December and the holiday season. In the last few weeks, however...I feel like I've managed to get things under control. I mailed the last package yesterday along with the last christmas card. Now there's a bit of last minute shopping to do for people here, some research to do for school things and a few work parties to attend and I'll be on vacation. Thank heavens and not a moment too soon. 

Yesterday was our second advent dinner party--we cooked up a duck (I thought it was going to be goose, but I thought wrong), baked some cookies and decorated the christmas tree, which was pretty cool. It's a bit minimalistic, but all things considered, I think it turned out well. I also learned a lesson...Stephans aesthetic perfectionism doesn't make halt before the holidays. He initially came home without a tree. His reason: they were all ugly, and the ones that weren't ugly were expensive. I told him that under no circumstances would Christmas be celebrated in this apartment without a christmas tree, ugly or not, and that I would be extremely pleased if we could get it up and decorated this weekend. Stephan, being as he his, went out and came back with what I must say might be the prettiest, fullest, greenest christmas tree I've ever seen. I didn't ask any further questions. I also busted out the double cd set of christmas classics--you know, the old Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Louis Armstrong schtick and tortured my guests with forced christmas cheer. I got a little fascist-dictator-y and made them turn off the sound on the wii so we could enjoy the atmosphere. : D I don't think anyone really minded. Besides, the duck, the various kraut side dishes, the garlic dumplings, the baked apples and cookies were delicious enough to make up for any of my culinary/atmospheric tyrrany. I hope. 

Now, after an evening full of much too much red wine, I'm having great difficulty concentrating on my lesson planning/catchup work for school. So I'm listening to HSE, posting to you all and waiting for Robert, a friend of mine, who allegedly needs some nutmeg, to come by and pick it up so that I can go take a bath. Now that's a Sunday. 

F'hain Thanksgiving Extravaganza

I'm going on a posting binge to make it up to those who care, but I had to separate these two posts. Thanksgiving in the F'hain grew out of a resolve from last year. Thanksgiving is the hardest holiday to spend outside of the states. My sister was so funny...I told her that on the phone and she was like "Why?! It's not like you miss anything here. Really." I'm sure it has a lot to do with expat-romanticism...the things we don't have, we tend to redschön. Thanksgiving has definitely become more important to me since I've taught it in a thousand lessons and explained it's history to tons of curious Germans. Last year was hard because we didn't celebrate, so I resolved to do it up this year in style, and Stephan had not choice but to go along for the ride. 

It was pretty cool if I do say so myself.

The battle plan was as follows...we had a team of  approximately 16 "guests" (if you can call them that while still expecting them to work for their dinner) who were then divided into three smaller groups who were then assigned to one of the three kitchens. The grou

ps were deliberately mixed so that people were with people they didn't know, and everyone had authentic recipes and ingredients distributed amongst them. They were then sent to said kitchens and told to produce said items. 

There were some stressful moments where I had something close to boiling over/burning on on the stove and was taking a phone call from Stephan complaining that they had too many sweet potatoes and what should they do about it, while desperately waiting for a refill on my wine glass...but it worked. My team was fantastic, we were done with our stuff in a jiff and could get to work on the decorations/beverage consumption/serious relaxation. 

I think all told, everything was ready and we sat down to eat shortly before seven pm. The cooking had started effectively at one. The last guest left at two am. It was a scene of mass carnage and destruction but everyone went home extremely full and at least a little tipsy if not roaring drunk. 

What amazes me is that almost a week later, people still haven't come to claim their chairs or KITCHEN TABLES?!?! How does one live without a kitchen table? Or chairs? I mean, yes one can eat on the couch, but really? I'm glad we live on the top floor...we've just put everything out on the landing in the stairwell. Noone comes up here who's not invited anyway, and there are only four apartments. 

However, if a photo is really worth a thousand words, I'll close with this picture of Vika and Stefan:

Guys, come get your effing table. 

Thanks.

Love,

Mia

So Many Things...

So yeah, for those of you who don't know, I had to give up my dog. It blew. Hard. I'm a crier, as pretty much everyone who knows me even casually can attest to, and I lost it all over the place as it became evident that we were going to have to admit defeat. 

We'd called in the national guard of friends, friends of friends and partners of friends to make things work for about a month, and when my boss dropped the bomb that she hadn't understood me right and that she was against having a dog in the KiLa on a regular basis, our hand was forced. I talked to her about it and I think my problem is that I'm just so damn reasonable. I understood and empathized with her reasons for being against it. I really did. I still cried my eyes out, though. It was heartbreaking. 

I learned so much though--about myself, about Stephan, about our friends...it was bittersweet but I don't regret it at all. We've got a lot of great people around us, and I'm really thankful for that.  

Things I Love About my Dog

1. She smells lovely. Not all doggy and stinky. I'm told it's because she's a puppy and that she'll grow out of it. I hope not.

2. Her fur is incredibly soft. I'm told this too is a puppy thing and equally impermenant.

3. She's cuddly. She likes to fall asleep with body contact. Right now, she's moved in half sleep so she can lay between my back and the couch.

4. She has beautiful brown eyes. I know you're not supposed to stare into dog's eyes because it makes them feel like you're calling them out. I have a hard time not doing it, though.

5. I love how happy she is when I come home. Yes, she sometimes overdoes it, but it's a welcome like no other.

...and I might have to give her up. I'm heartbroken. 

The Story of Lenja

As many of you might now, I now am proud owner/mama of a hungarian vizsla puppy. She's beautiful and soft and cuddly and a whole helluva lot of work. And her name is Lenja. Right now, she's passed out on the couch next to me, probably having nightmares about the dumb-ass husky and owner who got WAYYY too up in her grill on our way home from the vet today and then had the audactiy to ask me, "Did something happen to her that she's so scared?" Innerly, I thought, "No, you moron...it's just that your dog looks like it could eat her for breakfast!" Outwardly, I smiled and explained that she's still awfully young (9 weeks this week) and hasn't had a ton of experience with other dog breeds. 

People.

Anyway, it was a bit of a circus getting her, and actually quite a good story. 

It all starts with us not having a car. We don't, because the public transit in Berlin is so deluxe that you really don't need one. And a few streets down are some coops where the anarchists fighting gentrification tend to get their not-so-friendly fire on with parked cars. And I can't drive here and don't agree with the bureacratic hoo-haa I'd have to go through to change that.

But that's not really the point.

So we don't have a car, but we'd made an appointment to meet a breeder from Mecklenburg-Vorpommern over the weekend. She agreed that if we came by train, she'd pick us up at the station. We were going up to look at the last puppy left of the litter (all the rest were apparently spoken for already) and there were other appointments with other interested families the whole week before we got there. So we took the train up with the general battle plan of only staying for two hours at the most and being back on the train to Berlin by four thirty at the latest. 

Well, all of a sudden it was six. Pm. We'd had lovely apple cake, watched home videos from the last litter, talked for hours with the breeder and her family about the dogs and the breed and their characteristics. We realized what time it was and started to get ready to leave. It took a few minutes, but we were in the car on the way to the station, with the verbal agreement that we were going to come and pick up Lenja in two weeks. Well, we got to the train station and the bars that block the tracks when trains go through had already come down. So we couldn't get across in the car. The woman let us out, sped off and I ask, "Hey honey, is that our train coming?" It was. We were kind of screwed. Standing on the opposite side of the tracks, watching our train roll in. What do I do? I suggest to my dear, law-abiding german boyfriend that we get the hell over those tracks and onto that train. He looks at me like I'm on drugs and says, " We can't do that! It's illegal to cross the tracks!" I don't really care at this point, so I dash over after the train had come to a halt, and Stephan followed. We reach the other side, are getting ready to dive into the first car when the conductor slams his window open and says, "Don't think you're going to be riding  on MY train! You idiots can go take your own lives elsewhere!" 

We were slightly flabbergasted. I hadn't ever previously been directly yelled at by a train conductor. Stephan apparently also had not. We decide to leave the scene of the crime, as the train had already left and the personel in the station still had the authority to fine us for our grevious "crime". We looked at the schedule after furritively wandering around this TINY village for a few minutes, thinking we'd only have to kill an hour, maybe two until the next train came. 

WRONG.

We were not in Kansas anymore. Not in Berlin either, for that matter. That was the last train. At six thirty pm on a Saturday. We were stranded in a tiny, picturesque East-German village without a bank, pay phones, taxis or cafes. The train station was pretty much all they had going for them. We were kind of screwed. 

So we started using all the jokers we could think of: phoning friends, trying to find out when another train would come, whether or not we could get to another station to get said later train and most importantly, how. It finally boiled down to us calling Stephan's mother, whose first words were, "Are you guys drunk? WHERE are you?" She lives in the same province at least. It still took her over an hour to find us...with her GPS. We waited as it got darker and darker in the middle of a village under the lone street light. It was really something out of a very bizarre movie. 

Our idea was that Stephan's Mom drive us to the next major train station where we could possibly catch the last train to Berlin. She arrived with a big grin on her face and said, "Hi guys! You just saved my Saturday night! Wanna come back to my place?" What to do, what to do...your future mother-in-law has just rescued you from a cold, dark East-German village. Can you really say, "Aw, no Angie...we don't really want to hang out with you. We'd much rather go back to Berlin and go out. Can't you please drive us further out of your way so that we can get back?" I couldn't. So we spontaneously headed back to Güstrow to see her new apartment. Just what I always wanted--a surprise slumber party with my mother-in-law without my toothbrush or clean underwear. Awesome!

Of course you also can't wake up at dawn the next morning and say "See you later, alligator, we've got things to do--by the way, thanks for the chow!" We finally wound up in Berlin around 4pm Sunday. 

This probably should have been some kind of sign.

Two weeks later after lots of soul-searching, we were still all about getting her. So we hijacked a visiting friend and her car to spare us the trauma of potentially being marooned in Rastow (the East-German village of my nightmares) again. She was a peach and drove us almost two hours one way (due to faulty GPS) and then back with our precious cargo. 

Which brings us approximately to the present date. I'm getting over my perfectionistic tendencies and my fear of being an inadquate dog-mother, she's eating and listens to most of what we say...and one can fortunately distract her with kibbles hidden in various parts of the kitchen for almost ten whole minutes. We're celebrating the small victories. It's fun but quite demanding and I do understand why every second person we tell asks us "Did you guys really think this over?" She's a little diva and is not happy unless she has the combined semi-constant attention of Stephan, myself and everone else in attendance.

Somehow I think we're going to be just fine.

Sunday Sloth

Fall's arrived pretty definitively. It's Sunday afternoon and I've not done much yet today other than have one of those European breakfasts that starts at like ten thirty and goes until quarter of two. We were joined spontaneously by two friends who are weekend Berliners only for the next six weeks/six months respectively--I have no idea how they do it--I was gone for a month and I missed it like drugs. Plans to hit the laundramat (no washing machine as of yet) and the gym were crushed by said epic breakfast. After all, why work out when you can eat for four hours straight instead? By the time the breakfasting was over, it was time for Lenny to come by and watch Formula 1 (Barichello/Button/Raikkonen)--I'm still pulling for my man Kimi but it's not really looking like he's going to place in the world cup at all. Sniff, sniff.

What's a girl to do? I still have to print out my handouts for my Tuesday course and I could go make copies, but I happen to find gunmetal grey skies incredibly unmotivating. Today is shaping up to be one of those where I don't leave the apartment. Some Sundays are like that...but I am a militant defender of periodic sloth. I have no problem with people randomly showing up for breakfast, as long as they have no problem with me running around in a beater and OSU scrubs & no makeup. And my weeks are busy as hell. 

So sloth it is...

Somehow I find myself looking forward to winter this year. I'm sure this initial anticipation will be replaced by seasonally affective shitiness within a matter of months, but at the moment the concept of cold, dreary weather and sweaters is still novel. Especially since the new couch just got preordered...it's one of those big, fat, flat ones with lots of pillows. It's a leather/tweed mixture, although I hate leather furniture that's not at least 40 years old, the combination works. And it's coming in two weeks! I can't wait to get rid of our nasty-ass IKEA futon. It's so very "first flat after college"--not that there's anything wrong with that--I just feel like it's time for something else. And the damn thing is pretty rank. 

Also on my To Do List for today is to break it to my parents that Stephan and I won't be coming over for Christmas as initially thought/planned. It'd be too much on a variety of different levels, to put it diplomatically. I feel bad, but I know it's the better decision for me. We'll see where Christmas happens this year, since Stephan's Mum is single...maybe we'll get to have it here, which would kind of rock. I think. As long as I get to do most of the cooking. It'd be the first year in ages where Christmas wouldn't involve a 3 hour car ride...although I will miss celebrating up in Mecklenburg in the willage. The novelty of it would probably win out, though.

Hm. Remind me again how Christmas came up? Not my most coherent day. Oh well, enough for now. Hope everyone's well. 

xxxx

Americana Extravaganza Recap

I really shouldn't be doing this. 

The long night of the museums in Berlin was very long for me indeed last night, and I have resolved to go running on all of my 10am start days this week (4 in total)...allll reasons I shouldn'

t be starting this post at 10:30 pm. The third reason just came through the door.

I'll still try, though. And I might even be able to conjure up some photos, despite my technical ineptitude.

 

So. The first stop of the Americana Extravaganza was Liberty International Airport in Newark, NJ. From there, I took one of the most scenic cab rides of my life into the upper east side of Manhattan. The boys had a pretty intense first impression of the USA. According to the laws of jet lag, we threw the luggage into the hotel room and hit the streets. 

My sightseeing tactic consists largely of wandering. This drives certain types of people

 crazy, but Stephan and Max didn't really have a choice, and didn't really seem to mind too much. We stumbled on a great street fest on Broadway with some really fantastic food (and ridiculously colorful handbags of ambiguous legitimacy) and hit up Times Square. It was great. We met up with my girl Abby for dinner and a wander through the city. I was glad we extended another day...it gave us time to walk pretty much the length of

 Manhattan (from our hotel down to the waterfront. We were on 9th street).  

It was interesting...I've been on trips before, but

 either by myself or with other people who more interested in constructing our schedule than I was...so this was the first time I really had to step up and plan things. All things considered, I think it went well. We managed to walk around so much and so far that we slept like the dead.

After NYC and a 12 hour bus ride, we were in

 Maine for two and a half weeks or so. We took a

 great side trip to see Colleen and Eric and their OP and did some serious outlet shopping in New Hamster.

 Maine was relaxing and full of nature...and family. Lots of family. Some bittersweet familial whatnot, some great reconnections...some old friends. All in all, a good mix. My grandfather's memorial service was hard, and I wish I could say it helped me move on, but I'm not really sure it did. I hope it helped some of the

 people who were there. 

The boys built a small-scale croquet course on the back 9 at my parent's place and challenged all comers...I dug through the four corners of my room, we visited friends and grilled a lot. the trip to the coast to eat lobster yielded some great photos. We managed to hit Reid state park on a great day and the boys got wicked sunburns...really wicked sunburns. Which took at least a week to heal. We ran around some with Mike and Jane, which I think gave the boys a chance to see and do some American things we otherwise wouldn't have done (golf, tubing, etc.) --which I think they both greatly enjoyed...even if Max may or may not have chipped a tooth while tubing behind the party boat. 

When we headed out, I think it was time. The trip to DC took all told I think 14 hours and was complicated by the fact that I somehow botched Ashwin's phone number and was calling New York the whole time during the ride down. The guys got to see a good swath of American countryside and a few cities from the interstate. I think they were probably alternately impressed and terrified by my driving "skills"--although to be fair, I don't drive here at all (a situation I should be working to rectify and am mostly ignoring) so I might have been a bit rusty. But we all survived. That's the important thing, right?

DC was amazing. To all of you that hosted us in any way shape or form: You rock. All y'all. It was just a really wonderful week with great people and intense heat and humidity. I'm not sure I could live in DC for a variety of reasons, not the least of which are the tropica

l temperatures. That and, apparently, I dig dive bars. Apparently Berlin is full of them. And in DC, they're kind of hard to find. We managed, though. The Argonaut somewhere near where Julia lives is fantastic. They've got an Allagash beer from Maine! 

Anyway, it's getting late and I'm being reminded of my good intentions for tomorrow morning, so I guess the recap will have to end here and photos will hopefully follow. It's off to bed for the Miachen.

Wish me lots of motivation for tomorrow at 07:30 am...I've got to get started running off all that fabulous American food.

Take care of eachother, kids.

(Ed: Don't ask me what happened to the formatting after I inserted the pictures. I'm one of those people who needs a Kenyon Helpdesk in my real life. The finished product took...two days. Ugh. I'm so techtarded.)