Backseat Driving

"Fixing" the van.

Florence came and went. It was more fun than I anticipated and the countless stories will bore anyone who wasn't there to experience it first hand.  Something I must share though is how much fun it is to turn a regular nine passenger van into a giggle fest between five 20 something girls.  We took the middle row of seats in the van and turned them around (We = Corinne and I coerced Andrew and Richard to do it) so that we could get maximum play time during the drive.  I felt bad for the boys who were up front navigating and being the adults, but it felt awfully good to just drink my beer and be carefree for the entire car ride there.   On the way to Florence we stopped at an Army base in Vicenza where a Taco Bell was conveniently located and this is also where we all ate ourselves into a food coma.  I wanted to order everything on that menu.  Don't worry, I limited myself to 2 items and a drink.  As excited as I was to eat it, it wasn't as great as I had built it up to be.  I think the most disappointing thing was the missing Lipton raspberry iced tea.  This is by far the best thing Tbell has to offer and one of my must haves.  I even used to stop at Tbell on my drive home from Bloomington and order one medium raspberry iced tea to go.  Yet another thing I'm going to have to do while back in Indiana.  Ok, so back to Florence.  Another great part of the trip was when a spilled water bottle left a tampon box damaged which left the tampons in a pile on the hostel floor.  As many times as we told Andrew that they weren't string cheese he kept falling for the disguise.  Maybe we should have put them away, or Andrew should have consumed a little less of the Italian wine. 

Ponte Vecchio Bridge.

It's a toss up.  Anyway, we ate, we drank, we partied, we wined, we dined, we impersonated those darn silly Italians to no end, and yada, yada, yada it was a great trip with the usual great people.  Being back in Italy also felt really good, although I didn't remember any of the Italian I had scraped together from my summer in Torino.  It was pretty nonexistent then, so I wasn't surprised that it didn't come rushing back to me.  I did fall back in love with the skinny streets lined with gelato shops and pizzerias.  It's hard to say if I like Germany or Italy better.  It's like Mom used to say to Bret and I when we'd start the "who do you love more" debate, I love them both the same, but different.  Germany is the perfect little child who is neat, punctual, level headed, and despite this over practicality, an amazingly fun time.  Oh, and concerned about the environment, of course.   While Italy is the one with clothes scattered haphazardly around his room, a three day old bowl of cereal perched on the night stand, and a backlog of chores to be completed.  Somehow you can't help but love her anyway. I suppose Germany does hold an extra special place in my heart, but you can't let the favorite child know that.

Rest stop fun.

I've been running and trying to work out on a regular basis.  Surprisingly, I've really stuck with it this time and actually look forward to my work outs.  The other morning I was stirred from my slumber by the usual drunken talking in the hallway and couldn't get back to sleep, so I found myself in the gym at 5am watching MTV while starting up my run on the treadmill.  A couple minutes later, Neil, the recruiter for Edelweiss strolls in and we chat for a minute about how funny it is that I'm awake so early.  We then focus on our own workouts and zone each other out.  Several minutes later the music video cuts to a commercial.  It's not just any commercial though.  It's one where you text a specific number and get naked pictures or whatever else those ads promise in return for your first born child.  Except in Europe these commercials are a little bit more provocative.  Ok, they are full on porn.  After the first one played I was elated to see it come to an end.  Then another one came on, and another one, then they began playing on repeat.  Neil and I both pretended it wasn't happening and continued on. Luckily, I had my earphones in and couldn't hear the commentary, but I knew he could hear it and that's all that mattered.  5am, alone in the gym with a 55 year old Irish man, watching porn.  Easily one of the most awkward and embarrassing moments of my life.  When the music videos returned I sighed with relief.  But wait, there's more!  The ads returned within 5 minutes and we were back to both awkwardly pretending they weren't on TV.  I could have just stopped the treadmill and changed the channel but for some reason that seemed even worse than enduring the humiliation of watching porn with the man who hired me.  

I'm in the middle of another bout of grave shifts.  After my last one on Saturday night I will be heading to Munich to get a share ride to Freiburg to visit Marcel.  The long nights are much more bearable knowing that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I will be traveling on next to no sleep, but it's well worth it to see Marcel for a couple days and to get away from the Abrams.  I'm not claiming to be an adult, nor do I ever want to, but I'm not cut out to live in dorm style housing anymore.  I like my privacy and I need it.  The Abrams are quite possibly the loudest place in the world with no place to escape to be on your own.  It's really not that bad, I just miss The Hamptons where I had a choice if I wanted to spend time with my roommates or not.  It was so easy to just close my door and shut them out for a couple hours while I got in some me time.  Only six more months of being a freshman in college.  Speaking of the end of my contract, I think it is well known that I won't be returning to the states right away.  My fate isn't quite determined yet, but I am keeping an eye open for other job opportunities in Germany.  I will keep the masses posted if anything significant happens.

If you plan to live in a foreign country for a year, it's inevitable that you will need to prepare yourself for the social and cultural differences, i.e. the commercials.   Who would think that a German gynecologist visit could be that different from an American one?  Not me.  Picture the most awkward experience of your life.  And that's what it is like to see the gynecologist in Germany.  I'll spare the details for individual conversations, but until then I just cant decide which is worse; the German gyno, or watching porn with the man who hired me.   Yet another one of life's unanswered questions.

My favorite statue of all time, Perseus.

The one and only.