It's our third day in Paris, and its La Fete Nationale - Bastille Day. In the morning, we slept in and took time to watch a short documentary on Picasso before heading to his museum. I'm really glad we spent the time getting a background on his life and artwork because it really enriched the experience.
With that said, I can say that my biggest impression of Picasso is that he has successfully conceived of every possible way one can paint naked women. I've seen enough oil on canvas breasts to fill several lifetimes. It was just boobs everywhere you looked. Sometimes you would go up to a picture, squint a bit, turn you head and think, "Yuuup. Boobs."
Renoir was quoted as saying once, "If it weren't for the female breast, I might never have become a painter." Just a bunch of dudes looking at naked chicks.
Attached are a couple examples of the many breasts that I saw. I particularly like the nip slip one. Hope you enjoy!

Notes on Moving Home

It's been a year and a half since I moved to Germany, and an unbeleivable amount of things have happened. It's like living here has created accelerated maturation. This point in my stay here is especially important because it's two weeks before I move back to the States. I decided long ago that I hate my job here. It's a toxic, dysfunctional environment that's making me depressed. For a long time, all I would do here in Germany was work, go home, sleep, wake up, work. Of course I would go on trips once or twice a month, but the 90% of my life that I hated far outweighed the 10% of why I was here. I go through stages of optimism followed by pessimism and back again.
About my apartment and landlord: We live in an excellent location; a five minute drive from base right in the center of our town Landstuhl. We live a two minutes walk away from our favorite bar, the Red Lion, and live up a "two way" street that ends in a hike to the town castle. Rent is pretty cheap, only 340 euro a month per person. (Sidenote: It's only cheap when you have all rooms occupied...) Also, in the past year Ariel, Sarah, and I shared a $400 car, so while we drove each other nuts, it kept costs to a minimum. The only problem we have is with the landlord and our neighbors. There is a couple that lives above us, and I think the wife is deranged. She hates us, too. She throws water from her ask tray onto our car parked in the driveway. She won't stop feeding our indoor/outdoor cat Mogli alone and lets him into the hallway where he has no where to go to the bathroom. Of course she gets mad at us afterwards when she finds cat poop on her doorstep.
Our other neighbor CJ is a half African American, half German guy with a dysfunctional relationship with a crazy German lady. We've called hte cops on them once because it sounded like he was murdering her in the middle of the night.
The only problem we have with our landlord is he doesn't speak English. Well, he can speak at a two-year-old level, which isn't proficient enough for situations like ending our rental contract, moving out, giving us our deposit, and understanding that we found new people to take our place. So, for every interaction we have with him we have to go to the American housing office, sit in the waiting room for about 30 minutes, and have a representative call him and translate. It's a really big headache, not including that ending our rental contract resulted in multiple bills we had to pay including our end of year heating bill, which cost a whopping 600 euro.
Another thing that popped up was an unexpected letter stating in German that someone in our house had been illegally downloading music, and the music company wanted us to settle for 1200 euro. At first I didn't know what it was; I thought it was junk mail at first, so didn't deal with it. After getting the second letter from the same company, I took it to Chili's for translation. Our Polish busser Jakob told us the story and when I asked him what would happen if I ignored it, he said, "You could go to jail." I had a great night at work after that. After freaking out, I went to the free lawyers on base for their advice. I told one of the guys the situation, and he started telling me about how I was going to pay it and the whole process. I asked him how I was going to do it while in the US and he said, "You're moving out of the country? Well then just ignore it!" And I did. We will see what happens if I ever try to get back into the country. I'm sure German jails are comfy.

Made it to Paris

We made it to Paris this morning! It has been fantastic so far. Our apartment is so cute with such a great view on the Seine. It's about three blocks from the Notre Dame on the fourth floor of a building. Most importantly it has a PULL OUT COUCH! Score!
It was a bit of an adventure getting into our apartment. Turns out we printed the wrong email and didn't have the directions on how to get inside the building. It was 8am on a Sunday, and we were standing on the sidewalk without a way inside. Thank goodness my dad has listened to approximately 1,000 hours of Pimsleur because we went to the closest cafe, and he was able to communicate our needs with the server. (We found out wifi is pronounced "wee-fee" in French. Hilarious)
But after we quickly solved that with super-dad's French skills, we pushed through the jet lag haze and went on a nice walk around the island. Lemme tell you how amazing the weather here is. It's 70 degrees and partly cloudy. Awesome.
But my dad is napping and I might do the same. My body is confused.

"Life happens everywhere, and shit happens everywhere, too. Maybe we need to stop trying to resist growing up and just embrace it. That's the only way to stay sane in an inevitable outcome."
That's a quote I came up with while on a walk to my town's castle. It's on the very top of the highest hill in the village, so while treking up you can see not only all of Landstuhl, but Ramstein village across the autobahn, and even Ramstein Air Base, the lovely place I work.

It's August 20th and much has happened. I've been driving in the Motherland for about two weeks now and am really starting to get the hang of it. Manual is pretty fun. I pretend I drive a racecar everyday! At first the width of the roads scared the crap out of me ("there's no way that car and I are going to fit!! AHHHH!"), but now passing an oncoming car on the windy country roads hardly phases me at all.
But BIG NEWS! Ariel ist hier. She got here two days ago from Portland and lemme tell ya, that girl means business. Right from day one we're looking up apartments, exploring the towns and finding Ultimate. I will admit that I'm a much more slow paced. Do a couple things one day and one or two more the next. I do things a little at a time, but Ariel gets here and within 24 hours is up and searching.
Well, you have to take into consideration that I've been spending the past two weeks driving everyday trying to learn how to not stall my car everytime I'm unsure of traffic laws or there are any cars around me. If you include that and had seen me the first few days of driving, you would agree that I've gotten a lot done!
We're a good team.
First non-jetlagged day in Germany we go to an appointment with a German realtor, which proved to not be very helpful but we got a lot of information! Then, we went to base to print out listings, went to a restaurant in Ramstein and got lunch and beer, explored Ramstein village and looked up the best apartments to call.
Today we're going to call some apartments and check out Kaiserslautern, which is the big city of the area. 90,000 people live in K town, versus 9,000 in Landstuhl.
It's a tough call on where to live. At first, I wanted to live in Landstuhl because it's biking distance from base, closest to the hospital, and is bigger than Ramstein with a better nightlife. I hadn't even considered living in Kaiserslautern because of it's distance from base and our car situation. We aren't sure if we want to buy a car, we were thinking about just renting one during the winter months and biking the rest of the time, but Ariel seems pretty set on living in K town, despite it's location. Of course, there's a lot more people and a lot more to do there. We'll see how we feel when we explore the city!

First Day of Driving

I drove a manual transmission rental car in a foreign country with an American license today. Yup, first time driving in Germany.
At times, it was terrifying, only because I hardly know how to drive manual much less in a foreign country with foreign laws. Granted, I’ve read the rules of the road book and become familiar with the driving but STILL.
I pulled out of the rental car agency without a hitch, which was unlike my daydreams which consisted of me starting the car and immediately stalling while the car rental employee shakes their head thinking, “What have I done?”
To make sure I was okay, Justin, who drove me there, followed behind me with a very safe distance between us. I drove like a grandma, almost always going at least 5-10 km under the speed limit. It was funny looking in my rearview mirror on the country road and seeing a line of three cars impatiently tailgating Justin while I refused to speed up.
See, German roads aren’t like American roads, as I’m sure you all could guess. They’re a lot narrower. For example, on most roads in the villages if there is car parked on the side of the road that means there isn’t enough room for two way traffic. So, if you’re traveling along the road and suddenly there isn’t enough room for you and the car coming towards you to fit because of a parked car in front of you, you have to slow down, let them pass, and go around the parked car.
Very simple, right? But let’s add another factor: Not being 100% confident in your slowing down skills. This happened to me, and it went like this,
I started pressing the brake, which slowed down the car. I downshifted into what I thought was second gear, but it really could have been fourth. After the car passed, I pushed on the gas and prayed. It turned out to be second! I lived!
Up til now, I’m sure it seems like I had a horrible time driving, but it was fun in that thrilling, I’m driving in a new country kind of way with a manual. How European. I decided before coming here that if I didn’t learn how to drive manual, then I fail at living here. I’m in Europe! I have to learn how to drive stick!
The best part of the drive, by faaaaar was after I parked outside of Justin’s place and was told that I needed to move about twenty feet further up. I turned on the car and kept stalling it while Justin standing there watching with an amused look on his face. After about the fifth time stalling, he gets in the car and talks me through it while chuckling at my antics.
I’m still not very confident in my stick shift skills and need to be able to drive in order to get what I need to do done. It’s only been a day, though. I just need to practice and all will be well in Deutschland!
Here's an example of what the roads look like. They're a bit narrower where I'm at. Also, notice lack of dividing lines painted on the road. Yeaaaah.

Hamburg Blues

I just had a meltdown in Hamburg. This city has not brought out the best in me so far. While in Copenhagen, Levi told me he would be staying in Hamburg from Sunday afternoon until Tuesday morning. Of course I’m going to go and get a bier with him. It’s Levi. So, I send a last minute emergency request on couchsurfing and get a response from Jerry, a 50 year old living near the center of Hamburg. I get to his apartment and the next day we go see the city. Turns out Hamburg is just a city. I mean, it has some cool history, buuuut it’s just a city. I didn’t really like it. I also found Jerry to be not the most pleasant person. Not that he was unpleasant; he just had very negative views on the world. Granted, he’s a fifty year old whose “American Dream” fell apart. Until a few years ago he was living in a nice home in Seattle with his two kids, beautiful wife, good job, and faithful guinea pig. Now he is single, recently unemployed, and living by himself in a foreign country with a daughter who hates him for it. He was very pessimistic about the whole situation. Very pessimistic about the whole world actually. He tended to point much of his anger towards the values commonly held by the people (wife and kids in a nice little house) along with the ones pushed onto the people (Consumerism. Yum!) It’s funny because while he was bitching about never really wanting to have kids and hating the American way, I would add little comments such as, “I want kids!” and “I might get married someday.” In my opinion, the American dream has some aspects to it that are undesirable and it’s okay to disapprove, but in general I want it, and I’m ok with that. I want a good job (physical therapy!), kids, and good, safe place for them to grow up. Yup. I’m selling out, and my dream might fall apart like Jerry’s did, but at least I should try and be happy with whatever comes from my efforts.
But all in all, Jerry’s a good guy, and he really helped me out. Gave me a place to stay and bought my breakfast. Thanks, Jerry. Viel Gluck!
After staying at Jerry’s for two nights and leaving his apartment midday on Sunday, I went off to the Hauptbahnhof (central train station Hbf) to try and meet up with Levi. He told me what platform he would be arriving at and I secured a position overlooking it. Little did I know that his train had switched platforms, so after about thirty minutes of standing there knowing something is wrong but hoping that standing there for longer would help the situation, I finally left and decided to find a place to stay for the night. I also proceeded to have a mini tantrum. “I hate this city! I want to go home!” I almost bought a ticket home right then and there, but realized I would arrive at about three in the morning and have to walk for an hour home from the station in the middle of the night. So, I didn’t. I had written down directions to the A&O hostel near Hbf, so I grabbed a map and tried to find it. All the while, hateful thoughts of Hamburg still angrily marched through my mind. “I’m leaving first thing tomorrow. Earliest ticket home. Stupid place. I hate it.” Grumble. Grumble.
I find the place, get a room, and check my mail. I contact Levi, and we finally meet up downtown.
Let me try and explain how I felt when I first saw Levi. I’ve just moved to another continent and have been traveling around for a week and a half in a country where, yeeaaah they speak my language but it’s not quite the same. I’ve never traveled by train in Europe, I’ve never couchsurfed, I’m all by myself, and while it’s been an amazing trip it’s also had quite a bit of anxiety to go with it. I’ve had some serious anxiety more than once revolving around whether the bus or train I’m on is going to the place I actually want to be. Basically, I’m in quite a state for a person to be in.
And then I see my old friend Levi. My good old American buddy. A MUCH needed familiar face in a sea of strangers and new found acquaintances. I run up to him and give him a hug. I was so relieved.

I can’t even imagine how I’ll feel when Ariel comes. I’ll probably pee my pants.
Levi, his roommate from Liepzig named Fokko, and I go and eat dinner, and then off to a Kniepe (bar) in the same district I saw a protest the day before. We hang out, try and speak some German, and have a good time. I go back to my hostel and meet up with them the next morning. We go on a lovely boat tour around the harbor that partially repairs my opinion of Hamburg.
Only partially, though.
After a few more hours of wandering the city, we go to Fokko’s house to eat some dinner and take Levi’s bags to the airport. Levi spent one month studying in Leipzig and one month working on a goat farm, and he’s due to go back to America the next morning.
After we eat, I go and check my mail for the first time that day. At about 19.00 I open up an email informing me that my orientation for my job is scheduled for Tuesday, July 27 at 7:45 am.
FUCK.
There are three numbers given on the email. I call them all. No one answers, and there’s no voicemail. I desperately check the train schedule. The soonest one will get me to Ramstein at 7:20. I even go as far as checking place tickets, which yields no better results. I send an email to Leah telling her my situation and pray that everything will be ok, which at that point I wasn’t sure it would be. I think it was the way she ended the email saying, “This will be considered your first day of work” that really got me.
But I stayed pretty calm during the whole thing, despite occasional images of me jobless in Europe that I couldn’t quite suppress popping up every once and a while. What I worried most about was fucking things up for Ariel. Her quitting her secure, well-paying job in America and showing up in Germany with me somehow already having gotten fired from this new job before I even started. How great would that be? No, it would be awful.
I eventually go back to my hostel and go to bed not knowing what tomorrow would bring. We shall see!
The next morning, I arrive at the train station ready to make my ticket purchase. I plug in everything into the ticket machine and insert my card. “Card could not be read.” Ok. I insert it again. “Card could not be read.” I flip it around. “Card could not be read.” I flip it again. Same thing. I take out my credit card. Same thing.
“Ok. Maybe the machine is having a problem. I’ll just go get some cash and use that.”
I go to the atm, put my card in, and enter the amount I want.
“Transaction could not be processed.”
Fuck.
The way Fokko worded my entire European situation while I was trying to explain it to him the day before were the best thing for me to draw off of in this current one.
“So, you have a job, Sarah?”
“Not yet.”
“But you have your own place?”
“Uhh, no.”
“So, let me get this straight. You’re jobless and homeless all by yourself on another continent?”
“Haha, I guess I am.”
It really made me feel better to think about that while I was missing my first day of work with 40 euro in my pocket and a useless debit card.
I would guess that I kept it together for about five minutes. After that, while looking through my bag for a pen on the train station stairs, the floodgates slowly started opening. My eyes started watering as I dialed Fokko’s number and asked if I could come over to his house to call my bank. On the way down the escalator to the U2, tears started dripping from my eyes while I would hastily wipe them away with the back of my hand. While on the subway, I let go a little bit and had a mini sobfest whilst sitting in the corner wondering what the German lady sitting across from me was thinking about all of this.
I was crying while walking through Fokko’s neighborhood, which I’m sure didn’t cheer up the German neighbors on their morning walks.
I got to Fokko’s house, rang the doorbell and said, red faced, “Nothing catastrophic has happened. I’ve just had a bad day and need to be by myself for a few minutes.” He showed me where his room was and I proceeded to bawl my eyes out.
I can’t say I’ve really cried yet while in Germany, and it was WAY overdue. I’ve cried a couple tears here and there, but hadn’t really let go yet. Hadn’t had a cry that releases all of your tensions and anxieties.
Five minutes later, I come downstairs and sit down next to Fokko. “Here’s what happened.”
I call the bank, and after a lovely chat that started as, “I’m in Europe by myself, and my card isn’t working. Is there anything we can do to fix this?” I get it all straightened out.
An hour later I’m on the train home. Thank GOD. I am ready to go home.