I can say no to Peer Pressure. . .

I had a plan Friday night. It was to go to a friend's apartment, drink a few beers, and then duck out before they all went clubbing. "I have stuff I need to get done," I told myself, "furthermore, I haven't showered in God knows how long, and am in no state to be seen in public."

To seal the deal, I dressed in not club appropriate clothes, didn't bring much money, and 'forgot' my ID.

It didn't work. They convinced me to go to a rock club (called 'Rock Studio') where on Fridays groups of five get in for five euros. For some reason, we also got a free bottle of Smirnoff. The people were not dressed in conventional clubbing outfits, and although we were heckled a little, we got in even though 3 of us didn't have ID.

It was my first time in a rock club, and I found a lot of it just too funny. For instance, mosh pits. What is going on? I mean. . . huh? No rhythm, not many girls . . . people running running into each other and knocking stuff over. What is also sort of funny is how much my neck hurts after head banging all night.

"You're only young once," I thought as I bent over the bathroom sink like an animal over a watering hole in the Serengeti, scooping free water into my mouth.

And I'm only in Germany once. Well, maybe not quite true, but it was the line that got me to come out and party. After all, what's life without experience?

The Plan

The people who I talk to back home know that I have a really long semester break coming up. "Hey, losers," I say, "guess who's going to be traveling Europe for about two months while you're stuck in school? Me!"

And I have, in fact, already booked two short trips: one to Ireland (fly into Cork and then out of Dublin six days later) and one to Amsterdam for three days. They're gonna be completely awesome. But they're nothing compared to the master trip that's currently being planned.

Since I'm studying German, I figured I should probably travel around Germany. See all the big cities and such. So, I have made a rough itinerary that will last about 12 days. I could type it, but pictures speak louder than words.

The picture attached to this post is my planned route, and all the letters are the stops. Will it happen? Hope so. It would be great. You can tell, because it's roughly shaped like a heart. Or like Pac Man getting ready to eat Bremen.

Nothing's certain yet, so don't get too excited. That's my job. Life is sweet :)

I hope I find time to write about it, just like I haven't done for Prague and the Weimar/Berlin trip. Oh well.

Really, Germany?

Here, there are Christmas Markets all over the place, starting from the last weekend of November and lasting until either the day before Christmas eve or Christmas eve itself. The biggest one is in Nuremberg, and I wanted to see it before it shut down. So a few friends and I decided to hit it up on Christmas Eve morning. It's only open until two in the afternoon Christmas Eve, so we decided to take the early train and get there when it opened. We woke up to meet at 6:10 and caught the 7:04 train from the Munich Main Station.

The ticket we used was a Bavaria Ticket. On weekdays it's good from 9 in the morning until 3 the next morning, but on weekends and holidays it's good from when the day begins at midnight the night before. Now, where I am in Germany, Christmas Eve is celebrated as the biggest Holiday of the year-- more important than Christmas. So we were a little surprised when we got our ticket checked halfway there and were told that it wasn't valid. I asked what we should do, and she said we had to pay 31.50 each for the fare from Munich to Nuremburg. Since the ticket was going to be valid in less than an hour and it was obviously a misunderstanding, I asked if we could just de-board and get back on when it was valid. She said we could, if we pay the partial fare from Munich to where we were. Since it was a lose-lose situation, we paid the 31.50. Then the train changed route and arrived in Nuremburg late.

So when we finally got to the Christmas market I drank two glasses of Glühwein with shots in them. Didn't make me happy, but made me forget the pain. Well, sort of. . . until it started raining. . .

Worst Christmas Eve ever!!!

Do I have a twisted sense of Humor?

This is fairly unrelated to the rest of the blog, but somehow I started talking about the book Lolita, and my friend Ana said that she had seen the movie (by Kubrick). I was real excited-- 'Wasn't it great?' I said, 'wasn't it hilarious?' and she gave me one of the weirdest looks she's given me so far and said, 'No!'.

She thinks it's a tragic love story, I think it's hilarious. Does anyone else who's seen it have anything to say?

PS Another thing I think is hilarious is garfieldminusgarfield.net. I showed it to her and laughed out loud at several of the strips. She laughed too, quietly, and afterwards admitted she was only laughing because I was.

My Job

For all those I talk to on a day to day basis, please ignore this note, as you've probably heard everything contained within more than once.

For those who don't live in Germany with me, I figured that it's been a while since my last blog post, and since nothing too interesting has happened lately, I'd talk about my internship.

That's right. I have an internship. In Germany. Be impressed.

Or not, because I'm basically an office girl. I work for a small Sprachschule in Munich, and do all the things that they need me to do. Eventually, that might mean doing creative things like writing newsletters, making language activities, and even teaching classes, but as of yet, the other intern that works there has been conveniently present whenever anything that requires a brain needs to be done, and I am left to make copies.

It's really okay with me, though. My boss/superviser is cool, as well as all the other people who work there. I also have now officially had three jobs, which means that I can now fill out all three blanks on job applications. And I get to practice my German a little (but only a little, since it's a Sprachschule and therefore everyone who works there is at least fluent in English and German).

I had a change in duties, though, since the Christmas season started. For the last three times I worked, I did nothing but stuff envelopes with the Christmas letters and flyers. No wait, that's not exactly true-- I stamped the envelopes, too.

My favorite part about my job, though, are the little perks. If I had known before they'd hired me that I was going to get access to so many cool things, I would have wet my pants in excitement. You see, there's an espresso machine at my work. I love espresso, but I always feel guilty buying expensive coffee drinks. So when I work, I always get to drink a latte or two. 

But that's not all-- there's also a fridge filled with mineral water, both still and sparkly! That I get to drink as much of as I like! And a cupboard filled with chocolate. I don't know if I'm supposed to eat the chocolate, but I usually eat a piece or two anyway.

Well, I have to leave now and go to Prague (traveling around Europe is also a part of my day-to-day life, suckas) so I will write more after the weekend. If you were ever wondering, though, what it's like to be me... now you know a little better.

Bis später!

Ingrid

Motor Psycho

This past weekend I was on a class trip to Weimar and Berlin. It was fun, but also one of the stranger weekends I've experienced. So, if I even get to describing everything, they will be broken up into many blog posts. 

Last night, my trip was made complete when Hans Peter Söder, our professor and chaperone, decided to buy a DVD at a truck stop for us to watch during the long journey home. The movie was called "Motor Psycho" and he chose it because it was supposed to be a movie about a motorcycle band, fitting in with our class theme about traveling and experience. The movie opens with a shot of a very busty woman asleep on a towel on the side of the road. Her husband or boyfriend is down a little trail that leads to a lake, fishing. She wants to kiss him a little, but he's busy, so she goes back to sleep.

Then it cuts to a crotch shot of a guy on a motorcycle. It zooms out to reveal two other guys on motorcycles, and they drive down the road until they spot her. The leader of the gang is intrigued, and they pull over and watch her for a bit before the leader decides to lean down and kiss her.

She enjoys it until she opens her eyes and realizes it's not her boyfriend/husband, and screams for him to come save her. He runs over and fights the motorcycle gang until they beat him unconscious. She starts screaming uncontrollably and trying to check if her husband's okay, but the leader of the gang pulls her up and continues where he left off.

It then cuts to a man and a very pretty woman in a Jeep. The woman gets out of the Jeep and walks down the road, and there is another crotch shot of the motorcycle leader riding his motorcycle. They spot her and start to harass her, circling her on their motorcycles. Her husband, however, is able to stop them. She joins him in the Jeep and they drive away, while the camera zooms ominously in on the license plate. . .

We watched about a minute more (the man and his wife safe in their house-- but for how long?!) before Hans Peter shut it off and said there were technical difficulties. Definitely not the movie he had expected. I sat there, wondering how the rest of the movie would have gone (does the motorcycle gang just rape different women the entire movie?) and then decided to ask to see the movie case.

H. P. handed me the case and started talking about it. He said that he bought it because the cover looked very cool and sixties, and then showed me the inside of the case, which had a row of sixties movies along the bottom, and asked me if I knew the director. "He must have been pretty famous, because he directed this whole series of movies-- Bosomania". I took the case back to my seat and read the back and then looked at the inside.

The back of the cover was completely normal, "A band of motorcycle delinquents terrorizes the country side, but their fate changes when a doctor, whose wife they had hurt very badly, decides to take matters into his own hands" (Approximately; it was in German and I also shortened it).

But then I realized that Bosomania is the combination of the words Bosom and Mania. A closer look at the row of sixties movies at the bottom and I realized that a few of them had names like "Super Vixens" and naked ladies on the front.

When I told H. P. he laughed, got embarrassed, and then said he got it. "But the cover looked so cool!" he said, "we should use it as the cover of our yearbook."

I can only imagine what the cashier was thinking as this normal-looking man with a group of 20 year olds picked out and purchased this DVD.

¡Viva España!

As many people know, I went to Madrid this past weekend in order to visit my friend Annie. And, of course, to see Spain. It's so nice being in Europe, surrounded by different countries and cultures. I just feel so cool when people ask me what I'm doing for the weekend and I answer with, "Oh, you know, just hopping over to Spain (or France, or Austria). . .". The semester break is going to be so cool. I feel sorry for my friends who are only here for half the year. They're all frantic, trying to see as many places as they can over the few weekends they have left. Suckas.

What can I say about Spain? It's interesting because even though I'm American, living in Germany for the past few months has colored my perspective on things, so I experienced the weekend differently than I would have otherwise.

The first thing that got me was the fact that when I boarded the metro, Annie asked if I had anything important in any of my outer pockets and told me to watch my surroundings. This should be common sense, but since I've been living in the safest city in Germany (and possibly Europe, though I'm not sure) I've lost all sense of fear and danger. I guess I didn't pay enough attention, because sure enough, when we switched trains Annie noticed that my outer backpack pocket was open. There wasn't anything in there but pens, but I was irked that someone would try to pickpocket me.

The Agenda for the night was, of course, to party, because that's what they do in Spain. I hadn't brought any 'clubbing clothes', so Annie dressed me in some of hers. I ended up wearing a short, form-fitting not quite zebra printed dress and purple leggings. . . but it looked good, I swear. We went to a club and danced all night, and then went to one of her friend's houses at 5:30 because the Metro didn't open until 6. They all had a wonderful time, but I found a blanket and fell asleep on the couch. It was still fun, though :). At 9 I returned to my hostel and passed out.

I was supposed to meet Annie sometime I can't remember, but I was a half hour late because I didn't wake up. We had a relaxing evening of walking around the city, window shopping, and eating tapas (which I thought were small plates, but were not that small since we could not finish the three that we split). Then we were really tired and had to go to sleep. See what a night of partying will do to you?

Saturday was pretty sweet because we went to two museums. The first one was free for students all the time (apparently a lot of them are, so jealous) and the second one was all fancy and cost 5 euro. It was awesome. I love the crazy european art that came out of the first half of the 20th century, and there was lots of it: Picasso, Dali, Miró, etc. Afterwards, we went to a little café in order to consume what Annie referred to as hot chocolate and churros, but was actually this strange steaming chocolate pudding like concoction in a coffee mug and things that were like churros, but weren't actually churros (they had ran out). Don't get me wrong, it was delicious. It was also an experience ("Dude, how are you supposed to drink this? It's so thick" "Whatever, Ingrid, I drink it all the time" "Don't believe it" "Just watch me. . ." *Annie attempts to drink* ". . . yeah, today it's just hard to drink because it's thicker than usual. . .")

It was perfect for dipping the churro-like pastries in.

Then we partied until 1:30. I had to leave early so that I was able to catch my morning plane. Made it, by the way.

So Madrid, pros and cons:

Cons: 

The crime rate and feeling of fear. I wasn't afraid because I'm not used to it, but Annie was a little nervous sometimes because of the men. They're a little crazy there. We were sitting at a window table in a restaurant, and a group of guys started taking pictures of us. What are they even going to do with those pictures? Doesn't make any sense to me. I mean, there are girls just as pretty as me online, with the frizzy hair and zits airbrushed out. Very strange.

The city seemed dirty to me. Of course, anything would seem dirty after Munich, the magical land in which literally no one litters, but when I got back to my hostel one night after walking around in flip-flops, my feet were disgusting! I had to be careful not to step in any water anywhere because it would have made mud. Icky.

Finally, apparently in Spain you can't just walk in and use the bathrooms in fast food restaurants and such. Which is stupid. What do you expect a tourist to do? I should have peed on the floor. In Munich, you can walk into whatever establishment you want and use their bathroom. Also, I've heard that not letting someone use the bathroom is inhumane (and possibly illegal) as defined by the UN. I didn't need to go very bad, but I felt very indignant about the lack of human rights in this backward country. F***ing Spain.

Pros:

The architecture is beautiful. Also, the buildings are taller and the streets narrower than those in Munich. Gives one the romantic feeling of always walking through alleys.

The Museums are mostly free to students.

The food. The "hot chocolate" was amazing, as were the tapas we ordered. Yummy yummy.

The weather was fantastic! 60 degrees at the end of November. Awesome.

Well, that's all. Sorry the post is so long, but I had a lot to say, I guess. Sort of funny that even though there's 4 pros and 3 cons, it appears from the size of the lists that I really didn't like Spain. But I did! 

Also, re-reading that hot chocolate conversation, I realize that it could not possibly have taken place because it would have been interrupted by about a billion of those "that's what she said" jokes. But you get the drift.

Until next time,

Ingrid