A few weeks back I was at a festival in Wiesbaden, where I was fortunate enough to see a performance by the Gaslight Anthem. As I mentioned in a previous post, we had a met a few youths who were out enjoying the day, and one of them just raved about the band, saying that we absolutely couldn't miss them. He was totally right.
I did share John's view that the sound perhaps wasn't the best quality, which was a little strange as most of the other shows throughout the day had had no particular problems. However, it was only a minor detail; the stage presence of the band, particularly the lead singer, was excellent. Said lead singer just didn't stop smiling. Clearly, all of them were enjoying themselves, and really playing their hearts out. Early on in the set, I knew I was going to be a fan. In fact, despite the sound inadequacies, I was even truly blown away by a handful of songs.
Turns out that these guys come from New Jersey, and the previous week had played Glastonbury, where Bruce Springsteen joined them on stage. This apparently has had significant influence on the bands record sales, which certainly illustrates Bruce's longevity. Funny, I didn't need Bruce's endorsement in order to go buy the album, though in an ironic twist, I may just pick up a little more Springsteen; he seems to hang out with an OK crowd.
True, I'm not a tremendous fan of the Boss, though I certainly respect his contributions to the world. He actually played in Frankfurt the night before the punk show, and during the Gaslight Anthem set, I did reflect that, had I had to make a choice between Bruce's show the previous night or the show I was at, I had made the right decision, for me anyway.
I will stop short of going absolutely nutty about this relatively new band. Their show was great, and I've been listening to them a lot on the ipod lately. I made a comment to a guy last week that I thought of them as a bit of a mix between Joe Strummer and Bruce, and I do have the feeling that they'll be around for the coming years.
However, what had the greatest impact on me was simply seeing a group of guys thoroughly enjoying themselves as they played their set. I found this significant as only three hours before, I'd just seen the Bouncing Souls play their hearts out, too.
So, for the past few weeks, I've been thinking about this from a slightly different perspective. Though the day of the festival was the 4th of July, none of the American acts made much mention of it. One singer, when prompted by some of the fans, kind of said, "hey, we're all from the same planet, right? We're all human."
I was glad he stated things that way. It's possible that he was merely recognizing where he was at that moment, central Europe is not necessarily where you want to stand up and go "whoop whoop," proudly proclaiming your pride, especially if you come from another part of the world.
However, I believe he, like most of the other acts that day, demonstrated their pride simply in the way they played their sets. While I recognize that a performer is "on stage," I like to think that some of those individuals tend to be very genuine off stage, too.
In my own little, way, I'm trying to do the same thing in my own life. (yep, even years after adolescence, music still has the biggest influence on me.)
The longer that I live away from my home country, the more sense of pride I seem to get. It comes from meeting new people, and learning about their own backgrounds, and sharing things about my own background.
Whether it be in the workplace, or in social settings, or in personal relationships, it's all about the same. True, I tend to be consistently wacky in all three of elements, but at least it's real, and most people tend to recognize that. Yeah, they may find it amusing, aggravating, and even annoying, but I suspect that they also sense that it is refreshing, thoughtful, confusing, and, perhaps best of all, simply OK.
Is it so important that I decide what I should do about my love life? Is there an explanation as to why I always tend to wear sunglasses indoors and out, yet open up to people as soon as the glasses come off? Can one really explain why I'm still a two pack a day smoker, yet strive to get to the gym 4-5 times a week? Is it so necessary to hide my emotions, my stress, my frustrations from my colleagues at work, even though we know that the fate of the site will be decided in a few weeks time? And why, why on earth do I seem to consume espresso in the exact same quantities as a 48 ounce cup of coffee from 7-11 (circa 1992)?
I'll save the answers to those questions for another day. Right now, I'm going to enjoy my day off, walk around in the sunshine, and maybe even do a little work on my German grammar; it's the one thing on my list of goals for the month of July that has not progressed as far as I wanted.
Here's to keeping things complicated in the summer of '09. Good thing the music sounds great.
Keep the faith
bryan
soundtrack
1) You've Made Us Conscious - The Audtion
2) Electricity - NoFX
3) One Small Day - Ultravox
4) In Your Hands - Thrice
5) A Forest - The Cure
6) Afraid - Yellowcard
7) The Brightest Bulb Has Burned Out - Less Than Jake
8) Rain in the Summertime - The Alarm
9) Memory - Sugarcult
10) Destination Ursa Major - Superdrag
11) Between the End and Where We Lie - Thrice
12) About You - The Jesus and Mary Chain
13) The '59 Sound - The Gaslight Anthem
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Friday, July 03, 2009
Wasserschaden, Sonnenschein, and a Couple of Mispelchens
The other week, I missed the 8.06 train to work on account that I was stuck in the coffee line. Normally, the ladies at the Crobag (little coffee bakery in the bahnhof) try to rush me through the nonexistent express lane, but on this particular day, people were a little too pushy.
So, I got my coffee in time to see the train pull away. No problem, the next train would leave 10 minutes later.
After a quick cigarette, I boarded the train, found an empty seat, placed my coffee on the little trashcan on the wall next to me, and settled into a little thinking.
The train pulled away, the ipod was going, and I was looking out the window thinking, "looks like it's going to be an OK day," when suddenly the train jostled, and I suddenly had a full milchkaffee pouring all over my lap; the stable little place that I've been putting my coffee cup for the past two years turns out not be so stable after all.
At first, I believe I was most irritated that I'd lost my coffee, then I realized that my ipod was also in my lap. I rescued it first (thank goodness I use one of those little plastic cover things that protects it from these kinds of accidents), then reviewed the damage on my bluejeans. The front side of my left leg was completely soaked, as was the back side of my lower right leg; the coffee sort of spilled over my lap and down my legs as opposed to right on my crotch.
20 minutes later we pulled into Darmstadt, and I wasn't yet dry. I took a taxi on to the office, then assessed the damage in the employee lavatory. The foamy milk was starting to leave an interesting residue on my jeans, but in the end I said fuck it, and just go on with the work day.
As it turned out, that was the best thing that happened to me that day. Everything else went straight downhill at work, but that's another story.
Over the past couple of months, I've been struggling to move forward from the plateau I found myself on with the German language. Ninjaa got a little irritated that my pronounciation wasn't quite what it should be. As a result, I got to do read aloud some "easy reader" books for her during class. We didn't just stop at the biography of Elvis Presley, we went through Madonna's, too. Highlights of this exercise including learning the German words for, "total fucking wanker," and "atrocious movie actor." I'll let you decide which applies to which.
I push myself on the language front, so am easily frustrated when I suddenly forget the proper verb conjugation or inadvertently use the wrong word completely. Fortunately, I don't worry too much about making errors. People tend to accept and understand that. And I believe that they appreciate it.
I do still become very amazed when I find myself deep in conversation with a colleague or a Kumpel about some topic. Suddenly, I sort of realize that we're speaking only in German, and then I almost have to sit down. Probably the best way to visualize that feeling is remembering what it was like when you were first learning to ride a bicycle without the training wheels. Usually, a parent sort of runs along with you holding on to your bike as you peddle merrily along. A few seconds or minutes later, you glance back to see if your dad is still behind you, only to discover that you've been on your own. More than once that results in an immediate crash, as you are so shocked at what you've just done. This happens to me all the time.
The other week, my boss sort of noticed that I was a bit "down" during a meeting. Upon conclusion of the meeting, I raced downstairs for a cigarette, and was kicking rocks around the courtyard when he came outside and motioned for me to sit with him. We proceeded to have a bit of a spirited conversation, borderline argument, during which the entire conversation (with the exception of the brief blurt, "total fucking shambles") was in German. He certainly got my point, and in the end, I was satisfied with the result of our talk as well as my ability to hold my own in his native language.
My teacher had dinner with my parents and me a couple of Friday evenings ago. It was a bit awkard, as I tend to speak 90% German with her, but we obviously have to speak English with the padres. The topic of language learning came up, and Ninjaa remarked that typically people who have a talent with music tend to go through the language learning process with more success. I pointed out that my own music talents were certainly strong enough to make me a professional program manager, but I understood what she was saying.
The very next day, my parents and I went off to a little town not far from Frankfurt for the weekend. As we checked in to the hotel, my parents did all the talking, in English. The hotel owner spoke carefully, and seemed to be doing ok. As we collected our room keys, I sort of said something in German, to which he laughingly replied, "Geez, you speak German, but you made me go through having to explain all this stuff about the hotel and the town in English?"
"Yeah, but they're paying," I laughed back.
Excluding the job, there have been two challenges I've been working through in the past few weeks. The first came a couple of months back. I was having a shower one morning when I felt a few drops of water on my head. Since I was holding the shower nozzle in my hand with the water running down my leg, I was a bit surprised. "Holy shit," I thought as I noticed a little row of droplets leaking through the ceiling above me. Obviously something wasn't quite right with the apartment above me. Fortunately, their shower seemed to be directly above mine.
I sent a little email over to my landlord, who responded a couple of days later, indicating that he'd notified the hausmeister. Nothing really happened in the next two weeks. A neighbor of mine mentioned one evening that her landlord had contacted her about water damage, so clearly the topic was being discussed, but I was not contacted by anyone wanting to inspect the damage.
This is not really unusual in Germany; frequently things are left unattended until they "really" have to be dealt with. You might think of this along the lines of the "mañana" phenomenon that takes place in Spain. Why take action today when it will still be there for your, er, tomorrow? Note - this is not a complaint about either Spain or Germany. I do this all the time, myself. However, I doubt very seriously if I will ever reach the level of complacency that I've heard about from some European managers who apparently dismiss the unfortunate news that their company offices have burned to the ground on account that they were on holiday. ("Please don't bother me again. I'll return in two weeks time and we'll deal with it then.")
At any rate, after a couple of weeks, I sent another email to my landlord, who once again contacted the hausmeister. I was told to expect a telephone call in the next days from the maintanence man.
I didn't receive any phone calls, and, as the water leak from the shower only ocurred when the tenant above me showered, I didn't really think this was a huge issue. We would eventually get it sorted.
Over time, the damage has certainly grown, but I got busy and sort of forgot about it until about a week and a half ago, when I got a couple more droplets on my head one morning. I sent another email, and got a response that I would need to contact the handyman directly.
I was a little nervous about this, because making telephone calls and arranging appointments is a bit tricky for me. At least twice in the past year, I have gotten the wrong time or date for a haircut, much to my embarrassment. However, I did make the phone call, and the guy said he'd be by to see me the following day at 11am.
This was fine with me, since I had already scheduled the day off. It would be a personal business day for me, as I was really wanting the day off to get a few things sorted out (like overdue taxes, a good workout in the gym, and simply a day out of the office).
During this same water damage saga (which is really more an ongoing exchange of emails than anything else), another little issue popped up. I possess an unbefristet work contract, which basically gives me some comfort regarding employment (so long as the company doesn't run out of business). However, the residence visa is a separate thing, and last June I was able to renew my visa through June 2009.
Ever since the little nightmare a few years back when my firm failed to organize everything properly regarding my papers (which meant I was illegally working and living for a couple of month), I have used a local service to get this done for me. Earlier in the year, I had bumped into the woman who I'd worked with on this matter before, and mentioned that I'd contact her in May to start preparing.
So, in May, I began sending her emails, then text messages, then actual phone calls, all of which went unanswered. I didn't panic, since it's not unusual for someone to go on holiday for 2 or 3 weeks, during which time the person is unavailable. However, by the second week of June, I started to panic as the end of month drew nearer. I took action by speaking with the exectutive assistant in my company, and Claudia jumped into action. She mentioned a week later that the coming Friday, she'd need my passport so she could go off to the government offices to get my visa renewed.
I realized that I already had the day scheduled off, so informed her that I wanted to go with her. We planned to meet early Friday morning and get all the paperwork finalized. I felt comforted by the fact that I'd be in the presence of someone who could understand any of the complex issues in the native language, thus ensuring that we'd get the right result, even if something wasn't completely in order. (note - Bryan has this secret fear that just when things seem to be going along in a super way, something pops up in the form of a catastrophic road block. Example - what if the woman at the registry office refused to grant me a visa extension because I jaywalked across Reinberger Str on the 3rd of April 2009, or because I smoked in a NON-designated smoking area on the train platform, or worse yet, if I hadn't properly sorted my trash and inadvertently put my plastic recyclables in the bin marked for biodegradable waste?)
So, two Fridays ago, I woke up early and went off to get my visa renewed. I was feeling a little hungover, so hoped they wouldn't require new ID photos. We got to the offices, were directed to a new building, then waited for about 20 minutes before seeing the girl who stamps the visa.
The girl typed a few things into the computer, then handed us a little ticket. "Go pay the cashier, then come back to this office and I'll have everything ready."
Claudia and I headed to the cashier in the building next door (why put everything in one building when you can certainly be more ineffecient by using two or three? typical civil service...) and stopped for a cigarette outside on the little walkway between the two buildings.
"Congratulations, Bryan," Claudia told me in German. "I'm really excited for you."
"Me too," I responded, thinking I was renewed for one more year.
"No, you're now going to get an unlimited residence visa in Germany. You've worked and been here long enough to justify an extended visa."
How totally cool is that? Very. I was hoping to get long term papers (at the very least to avoid the hassle of having to go off and stand in boring lines once a year), but was not expecting this. I will wait until all of it is officially stamped in my passport (which takes a couple of months), and then might think about jaywalking or being discourteous with my trash...
I was on a pretty big high when I got home later that morning, and was in good humor when the fix-it man showed up right at 11am. I showed him the damage, and we had a 25 minute conversation about the extent of things. While the damage is not so urgent, it does need to be addressed. I think my bathroom will have to be renovated a little bit, but I wasn't really discouraged. We had the whole conversation in German (and I don't understand much about plumbing in ANY language) and I was ultimately going to be fixed up.
After a busy Friday morning, I was in good spirits. I met a friend for coffee in a little plaza nearby, and enjoyed sitting in the sunshine sipping iced lattes. At one point, I received a phonecall from my insurance company (an equally complicated topic to discuss by telephone in German) and once again, I held my own. I was even able to make a couple of jokes with the service rep, who was really calling to make sure I was satisfied with the service.
I proudly relayed this Ninjaa after the call, and after another coffee, headed off to enjoy the afternoon in the gym.
That evening, I hung out in the biergarten chatting with friends, chugging Radlers (shandy) at a pretty good clip. One of the waitresses suggested we nip next door for a Mispelchen, a little apple brandy that is accompanied with a very small fruit that is part pear, part apple. It's like a really really strong sweet cider, and rather delicious.
My pub doesn't yet serve the mispelchen, but the German Kneipe next door does. Through the course of the evening, I got to know the staff in that bar as well, as we ended up buying a few more rounds.
That, combined with the beers, meant that Saturday morning wasn't the brightest of moments in my life. That said, I recovered enough by evening to spend an hour at a street festival in the neighborhood (street festival = loud music, lots of alcohol, and loads of people) before attending a birthday party of a neighbor. That party extended into early Sunday, which made for a super weekend.
I took that momentum with me into this past week, and was able to push the work related crap and the heat to the side. Instead, I enjoyed a dinner with my parents, who were just back from Spain for the night before travelling off for two more weeks in Belgium and France.
It has been a bit humid here in recent days, making the commute on a sweaty underground and bus a bit less enjoyable. However, the heat and humidity was much more tolerable on Friday, when I took another day off from work, doing almost nothing except for lounging around in various cafes and pubs. I'm not sure what possessed me to have a few frozen margaritas and a huge assortment of fried appetizers in an American sports bar on Bergerstrasse, nor can I explain why I thought it so wise to have half a bottle wine during a sykpe with Moe later that evening, all before heading back to the pub, where I proceeded to stay out way too late.
However, the perfect way to continue that kind of start to a lost weekend is by getting up a little early on Saturday morning to head off to an all day punk festival, which is what I did yesterday. Indeed, I got a much needed opportunity to see the Bouncing Souls again, as well as some lively performances by the Dillinger Escape Plan and the Gaslight Anthem.
Sun, beer, a few bratwursts, a bit more beer (and sun), and lots of sweaty people jumping around to some good music. There are worse ways to spend a Saturday.
Now, if I can talk myself into going to the gym, my weekend will be complete: a lot of debauchery redeemed by a sensible bit of fitness.
keep the faith
bryan
no soundtrack this time round. my ears are still ringing from yesterday.
So, I got my coffee in time to see the train pull away. No problem, the next train would leave 10 minutes later.
After a quick cigarette, I boarded the train, found an empty seat, placed my coffee on the little trashcan on the wall next to me, and settled into a little thinking.
The train pulled away, the ipod was going, and I was looking out the window thinking, "looks like it's going to be an OK day," when suddenly the train jostled, and I suddenly had a full milchkaffee pouring all over my lap; the stable little place that I've been putting my coffee cup for the past two years turns out not be so stable after all.
At first, I believe I was most irritated that I'd lost my coffee, then I realized that my ipod was also in my lap. I rescued it first (thank goodness I use one of those little plastic cover things that protects it from these kinds of accidents), then reviewed the damage on my bluejeans. The front side of my left leg was completely soaked, as was the back side of my lower right leg; the coffee sort of spilled over my lap and down my legs as opposed to right on my crotch.
20 minutes later we pulled into Darmstadt, and I wasn't yet dry. I took a taxi on to the office, then assessed the damage in the employee lavatory. The foamy milk was starting to leave an interesting residue on my jeans, but in the end I said fuck it, and just go on with the work day.
As it turned out, that was the best thing that happened to me that day. Everything else went straight downhill at work, but that's another story.
Over the past couple of months, I've been struggling to move forward from the plateau I found myself on with the German language. Ninjaa got a little irritated that my pronounciation wasn't quite what it should be. As a result, I got to do read aloud some "easy reader" books for her during class. We didn't just stop at the biography of Elvis Presley, we went through Madonna's, too. Highlights of this exercise including learning the German words for, "total fucking wanker," and "atrocious movie actor." I'll let you decide which applies to which.
I push myself on the language front, so am easily frustrated when I suddenly forget the proper verb conjugation or inadvertently use the wrong word completely. Fortunately, I don't worry too much about making errors. People tend to accept and understand that. And I believe that they appreciate it.
I do still become very amazed when I find myself deep in conversation with a colleague or a Kumpel about some topic. Suddenly, I sort of realize that we're speaking only in German, and then I almost have to sit down. Probably the best way to visualize that feeling is remembering what it was like when you were first learning to ride a bicycle without the training wheels. Usually, a parent sort of runs along with you holding on to your bike as you peddle merrily along. A few seconds or minutes later, you glance back to see if your dad is still behind you, only to discover that you've been on your own. More than once that results in an immediate crash, as you are so shocked at what you've just done. This happens to me all the time.
The other week, my boss sort of noticed that I was a bit "down" during a meeting. Upon conclusion of the meeting, I raced downstairs for a cigarette, and was kicking rocks around the courtyard when he came outside and motioned for me to sit with him. We proceeded to have a bit of a spirited conversation, borderline argument, during which the entire conversation (with the exception of the brief blurt, "total fucking shambles") was in German. He certainly got my point, and in the end, I was satisfied with the result of our talk as well as my ability to hold my own in his native language.
My teacher had dinner with my parents and me a couple of Friday evenings ago. It was a bit awkard, as I tend to speak 90% German with her, but we obviously have to speak English with the padres. The topic of language learning came up, and Ninjaa remarked that typically people who have a talent with music tend to go through the language learning process with more success. I pointed out that my own music talents were certainly strong enough to make me a professional program manager, but I understood what she was saying.
The very next day, my parents and I went off to a little town not far from Frankfurt for the weekend. As we checked in to the hotel, my parents did all the talking, in English. The hotel owner spoke carefully, and seemed to be doing ok. As we collected our room keys, I sort of said something in German, to which he laughingly replied, "Geez, you speak German, but you made me go through having to explain all this stuff about the hotel and the town in English?"
"Yeah, but they're paying," I laughed back.
Excluding the job, there have been two challenges I've been working through in the past few weeks. The first came a couple of months back. I was having a shower one morning when I felt a few drops of water on my head. Since I was holding the shower nozzle in my hand with the water running down my leg, I was a bit surprised. "Holy shit," I thought as I noticed a little row of droplets leaking through the ceiling above me. Obviously something wasn't quite right with the apartment above me. Fortunately, their shower seemed to be directly above mine.
I sent a little email over to my landlord, who responded a couple of days later, indicating that he'd notified the hausmeister. Nothing really happened in the next two weeks. A neighbor of mine mentioned one evening that her landlord had contacted her about water damage, so clearly the topic was being discussed, but I was not contacted by anyone wanting to inspect the damage.
This is not really unusual in Germany; frequently things are left unattended until they "really" have to be dealt with. You might think of this along the lines of the "mañana" phenomenon that takes place in Spain. Why take action today when it will still be there for your, er, tomorrow? Note - this is not a complaint about either Spain or Germany. I do this all the time, myself. However, I doubt very seriously if I will ever reach the level of complacency that I've heard about from some European managers who apparently dismiss the unfortunate news that their company offices have burned to the ground on account that they were on holiday. ("Please don't bother me again. I'll return in two weeks time and we'll deal with it then.")
At any rate, after a couple of weeks, I sent another email to my landlord, who once again contacted the hausmeister. I was told to expect a telephone call in the next days from the maintanence man.
I didn't receive any phone calls, and, as the water leak from the shower only ocurred when the tenant above me showered, I didn't really think this was a huge issue. We would eventually get it sorted.
Over time, the damage has certainly grown, but I got busy and sort of forgot about it until about a week and a half ago, when I got a couple more droplets on my head one morning. I sent another email, and got a response that I would need to contact the handyman directly.
I was a little nervous about this, because making telephone calls and arranging appointments is a bit tricky for me. At least twice in the past year, I have gotten the wrong time or date for a haircut, much to my embarrassment. However, I did make the phone call, and the guy said he'd be by to see me the following day at 11am.
This was fine with me, since I had already scheduled the day off. It would be a personal business day for me, as I was really wanting the day off to get a few things sorted out (like overdue taxes, a good workout in the gym, and simply a day out of the office).
During this same water damage saga (which is really more an ongoing exchange of emails than anything else), another little issue popped up. I possess an unbefristet work contract, which basically gives me some comfort regarding employment (so long as the company doesn't run out of business). However, the residence visa is a separate thing, and last June I was able to renew my visa through June 2009.
Ever since the little nightmare a few years back when my firm failed to organize everything properly regarding my papers (which meant I was illegally working and living for a couple of month), I have used a local service to get this done for me. Earlier in the year, I had bumped into the woman who I'd worked with on this matter before, and mentioned that I'd contact her in May to start preparing.
So, in May, I began sending her emails, then text messages, then actual phone calls, all of which went unanswered. I didn't panic, since it's not unusual for someone to go on holiday for 2 or 3 weeks, during which time the person is unavailable. However, by the second week of June, I started to panic as the end of month drew nearer. I took action by speaking with the exectutive assistant in my company, and Claudia jumped into action. She mentioned a week later that the coming Friday, she'd need my passport so she could go off to the government offices to get my visa renewed.
I realized that I already had the day scheduled off, so informed her that I wanted to go with her. We planned to meet early Friday morning and get all the paperwork finalized. I felt comforted by the fact that I'd be in the presence of someone who could understand any of the complex issues in the native language, thus ensuring that we'd get the right result, even if something wasn't completely in order. (note - Bryan has this secret fear that just when things seem to be going along in a super way, something pops up in the form of a catastrophic road block. Example - what if the woman at the registry office refused to grant me a visa extension because I jaywalked across Reinberger Str on the 3rd of April 2009, or because I smoked in a NON-designated smoking area on the train platform, or worse yet, if I hadn't properly sorted my trash and inadvertently put my plastic recyclables in the bin marked for biodegradable waste?)
So, two Fridays ago, I woke up early and went off to get my visa renewed. I was feeling a little hungover, so hoped they wouldn't require new ID photos. We got to the offices, were directed to a new building, then waited for about 20 minutes before seeing the girl who stamps the visa.
The girl typed a few things into the computer, then handed us a little ticket. "Go pay the cashier, then come back to this office and I'll have everything ready."
Claudia and I headed to the cashier in the building next door (why put everything in one building when you can certainly be more ineffecient by using two or three? typical civil service...) and stopped for a cigarette outside on the little walkway between the two buildings.
"Congratulations, Bryan," Claudia told me in German. "I'm really excited for you."
"Me too," I responded, thinking I was renewed for one more year.
"No, you're now going to get an unlimited residence visa in Germany. You've worked and been here long enough to justify an extended visa."
How totally cool is that? Very. I was hoping to get long term papers (at the very least to avoid the hassle of having to go off and stand in boring lines once a year), but was not expecting this. I will wait until all of it is officially stamped in my passport (which takes a couple of months), and then might think about jaywalking or being discourteous with my trash...
I was on a pretty big high when I got home later that morning, and was in good humor when the fix-it man showed up right at 11am. I showed him the damage, and we had a 25 minute conversation about the extent of things. While the damage is not so urgent, it does need to be addressed. I think my bathroom will have to be renovated a little bit, but I wasn't really discouraged. We had the whole conversation in German (and I don't understand much about plumbing in ANY language) and I was ultimately going to be fixed up.
After a busy Friday morning, I was in good spirits. I met a friend for coffee in a little plaza nearby, and enjoyed sitting in the sunshine sipping iced lattes. At one point, I received a phonecall from my insurance company (an equally complicated topic to discuss by telephone in German) and once again, I held my own. I was even able to make a couple of jokes with the service rep, who was really calling to make sure I was satisfied with the service.
I proudly relayed this Ninjaa after the call, and after another coffee, headed off to enjoy the afternoon in the gym.
That evening, I hung out in the biergarten chatting with friends, chugging Radlers (shandy) at a pretty good clip. One of the waitresses suggested we nip next door for a Mispelchen, a little apple brandy that is accompanied with a very small fruit that is part pear, part apple. It's like a really really strong sweet cider, and rather delicious.
My pub doesn't yet serve the mispelchen, but the German Kneipe next door does. Through the course of the evening, I got to know the staff in that bar as well, as we ended up buying a few more rounds.
That, combined with the beers, meant that Saturday morning wasn't the brightest of moments in my life. That said, I recovered enough by evening to spend an hour at a street festival in the neighborhood (street festival = loud music, lots of alcohol, and loads of people) before attending a birthday party of a neighbor. That party extended into early Sunday, which made for a super weekend.
I took that momentum with me into this past week, and was able to push the work related crap and the heat to the side. Instead, I enjoyed a dinner with my parents, who were just back from Spain for the night before travelling off for two more weeks in Belgium and France.
It has been a bit humid here in recent days, making the commute on a sweaty underground and bus a bit less enjoyable. However, the heat and humidity was much more tolerable on Friday, when I took another day off from work, doing almost nothing except for lounging around in various cafes and pubs. I'm not sure what possessed me to have a few frozen margaritas and a huge assortment of fried appetizers in an American sports bar on Bergerstrasse, nor can I explain why I thought it so wise to have half a bottle wine during a sykpe with Moe later that evening, all before heading back to the pub, where I proceeded to stay out way too late.
However, the perfect way to continue that kind of start to a lost weekend is by getting up a little early on Saturday morning to head off to an all day punk festival, which is what I did yesterday. Indeed, I got a much needed opportunity to see the Bouncing Souls again, as well as some lively performances by the Dillinger Escape Plan and the Gaslight Anthem.
Sun, beer, a few bratwursts, a bit more beer (and sun), and lots of sweaty people jumping around to some good music. There are worse ways to spend a Saturday.
Now, if I can talk myself into going to the gym, my weekend will be complete: a lot of debauchery redeemed by a sensible bit of fitness.
keep the faith
bryan
no soundtrack this time round. my ears are still ringing from yesterday.
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