How to prepare a Farmer's Breakfast in Germany, almost.

German food is mostly a delight to my taste pals. This blog entry will be devoted entirely to the Bauern Fruehstueck(Above).
Although the name alone evokes a sort of throwing-everything-you-have-into-a-pan-and-frying-it, there are certainly some specific recipes out there. Heck, even the neo nazi bars on the street corner offer their own Farmer's Breakfast.

And we had ours.
I think the logical place to start is with the ingredients.


Not definite on this, but I assume onions are always a part of the Farmer's Breakfast. It should look like this.

Another good thing to use are a bunch of random herbs and non-random potatoes.
The Schnittlauch(chives) should, of course, be freshly cut from your window side herb garden for the best results and least monetary expenditure. The Kartoffeln(potatoes) should be skinned by the best potato peeler in the household(me, in this case) and then chopped up to taste.

Once you manage to pepare all the ingredients, it is time to start the party. To summarize, you have prepared the Kartoffeln, Zwiebeln, Schnittlauch, Knobluach(garlic), Eier(eggs)-preferrably chicken, and herbs.
So with your newly acquired knowledge, I am sure you will agree that a Bauern Breakfast can reach across borders. Maybe you will prepare it next Saturday morning.
The best thing to drink with it is good coffee with cream. And, if you have read this entry carefully, you will usually end up with a happy man for the rest of the day. Also, throw a lot of sour cream on your plate if you want the meal to be complete.
Like I said, anyone consuming this MEAL will be a delight for the rest of the day, unless of course on the off-chance you totally forget to cut up the bacon that is lying unnoticed in the fridge and add it. An error like that could definitely ruin someone's day. Not that that happened with me, but it is a completely reasonable reaction to such an accident.

If you take one thing from this blog, I hope it is that sour cream can be added to most anything to make it better, and you can add as much as you want, there is no maximum when man reaches a bad taste. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed. I love you.

Just Another Weekend

A lot of people are probably expecting more about the everyday life of Chris in the west of Europe. Well, the masses have spoken, so let me just regale the many many readers out there far and wide with the latest weekend.

Once the week was out, 1pm for those keeping track at home, I hit the gym, lifted some weights into the air, and generally got sweaty with a bunch of dudes. For my evening activity, I cuddled up for my normal Friday viewing of Brokeback Mountain(thank you Ang Lee, it´s about time!). I still wasn´t tired enough to hit the sack(go to bed for u foreigners out there) so I slipped in the first DVD of Queer as Folk. Let´s just say I am probably not gonna watch the rest of the series.

Still with the taste of throw up in my mouth, I made my way to the bakery Saturday morning. The cool air, and the Van Morrison playing into my ears reminded me of the Cape, and The Men. A good, and much needed follow up to the previous nights gayness. Just so we are clear, I am not using gay in a offensive way, that is just the only adjective I can think of to describe it all. That, and homosexual just has to many syllables in it for me to include in my everyday repertoir.

On my return home, something manly wafted through the air. Eggs, fried, bacon, potatoes. I set down the soft, fresh buns that I had retrieved and held so securely yet tenderly on the walk home. I couldn´t imagine a better way to answer back to such a "gay" night. If that wasn´t enough, dinner consisted of a bunch of beans(you choose) a banana wrapped in a chicken breast, wrapped in bacon. After devouring all the cooked food, I went on to throw the two chicken carcasses, that I had surgically removed the chicken breasts from earlier, into the oven. When that was done, I naturally devoured all that too. I forget Sunday, but I am sure it was delicious in general.

So there is a little of the deutsches Leben, like anything it has its ups and downs, depending on your sexual orientation, and I recommend it highly.

Where Were You???

I remember there was a US president who perhaps coined the phrase, "a day that will live in imfamy..." And some words probably came before that phrase and after it. As the recipient of a History minor at the university level, I shamedly admit I am not sure to which event it refers, but I think when the Japanese crazies kamikazeed Pearl Harbor, and I think the president therefore must have been Roosevelt, the one who couldn´t walk, not the oxymoronic avid hunter who loved nature so much as to not only kiil and eat many an animal, but also established many national parks. Long sentence, huh? Yes Yes I know. Again, that seemingly historical factoid may also be discovered to be untrue.
When FDR made his (fireside?) speech, he got it right. Every American knows that it happened, and our parents probably even remember the date and where they were. Me? Sometimes I wanna call that day "D Day", but i know that is not true. The point here is, did he say "date" or "day"?? Because while I know of the day, I am not sure of the date, but having the well trained mind of a history minor, I wanna say June 6. Maybe December 6th actually, the former being D Day. (The wheels are turning now.)
I guess I meant G-parents when I was talking about WWII, depending on your age. As for me and other members of the Y Generation(Why?), the big day of infamy in my life so far has been what people are calling 9/11. Now there is a date that will definitely go down in infamy, namely because its name is the date. Very straightforward. Personally, I don´t always remember the year even, unless, like this morning, I remember back to that day. I can remember from my youth my parents explaining the exact details of where they were when JFK was assassinated, or when people landed on the moon. I think most people of that generation also can tell you exactly where they were when his little bro, Robert, suffered the same fate. That remembrance may just be, however, a little overflow from the immense love people had for his brother.
I cannot say the day of the week, but it was definitely a week day because I know I was in my freshman year intensive Chinese class, which met for an ungodly amount of time per week, and at an ungodly hour, as far as college is concerned anyway. 8:50 am everyday for 2 hours. The first thing I recall of the day is being on my way back to New South, my dorm, and catching bits of conversation from passersby hinting at the news that something had gone down somewhere in the world. Next, I found out, somehow, what exactly happened. I think at first the news reported it was a bomb. I followed some poeple to the top of the neighboring student housing complex where we watched the smoke rising from the pentagon. I remember people had trouble getting in touch with their parents because of overloaded mobile phone servers. As a late cell phone owner, it was not yet a concern of mine, but I remember it nonetheless. I remember the ROTC stdents in their army stuff performing some roll, maybe telling us not to leave our dorms. They thought there were car bombs randomly located all over Washington, DC. At least for that day, and maybe some days to follow, the thing that stuck out in my mind was the utter lack of commercial planes flying overhead. There was a fair share of military choppers hovering of course, and maybe some fighter jets, but once that died down the lack of noise pollution was very clear to me. If you hva elived in that area, you know what I mean.
If anyone made it to the end of this long arsch blog, please share in a sentence or 2 where u were, I am interested to know. Tune in tomorrow to hear about my secret beard!

Back to the Future

Well, after almost two weeks back in the suburban life, aside from a quick trot out to Sin City to give Mario the wedding witness a first hand look at what might be the power couple that tries not to spray mud in Brangelina´s face as they take over the world, I am now back in the city life.

Since returning to the land of sauerkraut, I have had the pleasure of listening to Peter Schilling, a lot. "Major Tom" really strikes a chord in my ears. My frau introduced me, but I am pretty sure I have heard it before. Either that, or I am getting it mixed up with that Major Tom song by David Bowie, which may or might not be an answer song to the aforementioned Peter Schilling ditty, or vice versa.

I realize that the big city life is not exactly an accurate description of life in Nürnberg- I mean it is no New York City, but we do have our fair share of dangers that us Nürnbergers(the people, not the little sausages) have to face in everyday life.

For example, in my day to day life, there is no way to elude the almost daily meeting with the check out lady in the supermarkt. I don´t want to emberass myself too much, but let´s just say my skills in the check out line are not as sharp after the 2 week stint in the USA as they once were. In a nutshell, I was not at terminal velocity, as they say. I think they notice when they have a "rookie" and try to throw the purchases across the bar code reader even faster to make sure the people in line behind me are aware of the fact that it is ME who is slow and holding them up, and NOT the cashierette, or whatever they are called in English.

A picture is worth a thousand words

As I sit here chewing on the fat I am wondering if it was true when my girlfriend said I could eat the thick piece of bacon raw. I ask the same question everytime we are there, but only today did i make the purchase to see what it is all about. It definitely didnt taste like I imagined raw bacon would taste, so maybe it is not raw thick bacon after all.
Biting the Stomach Bacon.Or, maybe raw bacon has tasted like this all along but people always cook it for some reason. It is times such as these that I am reminded of those times I used to eat full chickens in front of my fellow housemates/volunteers to scare them, or when I ate the steak that was bigger than my head.

Okay, gotta go spit the fat out, it is getting slimy. DOne.

I am now inspired after reading a good blog by 2 of my fellow housemates, possibly schwul, to include more photos in my blogs. I think it makes it more interesting and less boring. So starting just a few moments ago, and updating some recent events that I feel particularly pertinent to you, here goes nothing...

Aside from my recent eating of the meat, I cannot help but think of the recent events that happened in my immediate neighborhood, and just barely missed the local news. First there was the fire in the house across the street.

On the very same day that I was seemingly the only one to notice the blaze, there was a shark attack not far from here. I know what u are asking yourself, "were there any victims?", and the answer my friends is yes, however not the likely one.

The driver of the late 90's yellow and blue, decaled race car, and lone survivor of the accident being called an "attack" by the locals was reached for just a few comments. According to him, "in that last glimmer of his eye, he(the shark) said "Hey Richard man, enjoy your dinner!" " Scientists from around the globe called it a turning of the tides, no pun intended I am sure, but the majority agreed that this is bound to happen as more and more weak-jawed sharks made out of plastic start walking the streets.
After the shark was attacked by the car, I thought it couldn't get any crazier that day. But I think u all know where this is heading, it did! As the crowds dwindled and life began to return to normal, the unthinkable happened. I inched closer and closer to the window, leaned over the window sill, and BAMMMM!

Two lemon colored autos parked right next to each other. After that I couldnt handle anymore shocks so I had to lay down for a bit.

Sweet Water Farms

I remember the days back on the farm when the great potatoe first fell to the ground. Actually, I guess it was still a large peanut back then, but whatever u want to call it does not change the fact that potatoes have changed my life.

Something from my childhood is coming to me now as I think about all the potatoes in my life, and that is the fact that I think I either learned, heard, or saw that you can conduct electricty with potatoes. Not sure why I am thinking this, I just have an image of a potatoe with wires going into it in my mind right now.

The potato shack, as I will call it here, seemed to have caught fire sometime recently in the mean streets of old town. I saw the burned out little area where millions and millions of potatoe products, mostly pommes have been boiled in fat and sold. I wonder if the potatoe place will make a valliant return after they fix that place. I wrote a note to the city office suggesting they erect some kind of a potatoe monument there. I was thinking a silverback gorilla sized male potato cast in copper. Of course, this would ideally be outside on the walking zone so the possibility remains for another potatoe product selling place to get in there, just like a hermit crab switching shells.

Well the blog turned from sweet water to potatoes, but that is really no surprise now is it? Also, yesterday or the day before I saw dog poo with corn. First I thought, "weird that someone is feeding their dog corn". My second thought was that I guess that makes at least 2 mammals that are not seemingly digesting/breaking down full corn kernels. Now, I am not sure what other pets Indians(native Americans) had besides dogs, but I actually only imagine it was them and their dogs. Oh yeah horses, but maybe horses were just for the plains indians. The point is, how in the crud did learning how to grow corn from the indians save the lives of the famous pilgrims of American folklore? It certainly doesn't seem to be providing any nutrients to the body. Probably we will never know what happened, but at least Thanksgiving came out of it and they made other dishes besides corn on the cob on that fateful day. Turkey, yummy.

A few funny translations

This will be short.
I thought a funny word in German is the word for gums. As in Bleeding Gums Murphy. Or, as in the place where your teeth are stuck into. So the word is das Zahnfleisch. Zahn=tooth. Fleisch= meat. Toothmeat. Sounds gross to me.


The only other one I can think of right now is for fresh water, that u would find in a lake or river, as in the opposite of the saltwater found in the oceans.
das Suesswasser----Suess=sweet, wasser=water, obviously. Saltwater is simply Salzwasser, so no fun there.

I have definitely come across more, but will have to add those as I recall them. Peace in the Southeast( of PA)

Rain rain on my face..

Well, it appears as though the summer I am living in Deutschland is the worst weather ever. This is true at least when compared to the normal idea of summer- sun, heat, blue skies. Sure we have had some nice days here and there, but I would say overall it has been very unsummerlike. At least it is not snowing.
As I have not updated this blog recently I can try to think what is new. Hmm. Well, something that isn't new is that the cashier ladies still are getting the best of me. I have come to realize that customers can only improve up to a certain level when it comes to the speed of checkout, bagging, and payment. Upon some serious self inspection, I do believe that I have gotten a bit faster in bagging my goods and getting rid of some heavy change, but I think I have reached terminal velocity.

Aside from that I have finished a watercolor painting that was sketched out sometime when I was either volunteering or working at ACE Tomato Co. Spies Like Us anyone? That reminds me, I think there is a covert agent in my Deutsch course. He seems to speak a number of tongues fluently, and pretends he doesn't speak English at all. I do not buy it for a second though, but I won't let him know that I am onto him. Not until I really know what he is worth to his country of origin anyway.

Don't have much else to say except that the people around here are so sad looking. I wonder what their reasons are for walking around everyday if they really feel how they look. Perhaps if we get a real dose of summer, people will get a little more vitamin D in their system. To anyone out there with a like problem, I can only say, buck up little camper.

Also, today a completed a drawing of 3 sheep eating grass around a tree in the back of my German notebook.

1 Sentence Updates

1. Since the day of the Jahninselfest I am "completely and utterly alone." - Lydia from Beetlejuice- Some city in the Asian Pacific region took my girlfriend for 2 weeks, and I won't let it happen again.
2. It rained for a straight week.
2.5. New bathroom window.
3. I performed an early morning rescue of a snail on a sidewalk, probably saving its awesome slithering life.
4. A lot of gym.
4. Some art.
5. Some job search research.
6. Learning German, of course.
7. Tofu.
8. Haircut.
9. Killed a lot of bugs in here, but I think the snail rescue evens everything out.
10. And a life move.

In closing, I'd like to say that 2 guys at the late night gym tonight were sporting what seemed to be concentration camp pants. And, luckily it was late as I said, so not too many people there to annoy me, but one dude was talking on a phone the whole time he worked out.

When the bridge is a'rockin...

Don't come a'knockin. I believe that is how the old saying goes. To go, or not to go, that was the question. And the answer?, to go. Or, maybe just GO!!! So I did.
...
As I sit here on someone else's big red ball, I see the scene replaying vividly in my awesome new sunglasses that play movies. When I first got on the bus, I was not sure if it was headed in the right direction. A few minutes and 2 stops later I hopped out of the bus like a pro. First I saw the river, the Donau I believe, and then a saw a gathering of black-clothed people across the river.
I carried the necessary/emergency supplies on my back. A crossword puzzle book, McFit magazine, some water, cough drops, and 1 umbrella. Thank the heavens for not opening up and raining on my fellow fest goers and I, but it usually doesn't hurt to be prepared.

The Jahninselfest turned out to be bigger then it had appeared from across the Donau- as I neared the entrance I noticed there were 2 stages on either side of Stone Bridge, with even more ebon-dressed music fans scattered in between. I recognized the front man without much doing by his hat which I remembered from a photo I had seen while surfing. Next, I saw my seemingly Irish neighbor, decked out in his green shirt. I wondered if they would see me perched on Stone Bridge taking in the scene.

The entrance proved to be a portal into a magical meadow. The willow type trees spewed their seed, reminiscent of soft snowflakes falling upon us in slow motion. I wished I knew taiji quan at that moment. I passed the fare and the port-a-potties and finally found what I was looking for. There was much hugging, mega hellos, and mediocre handshakes. I would have enjoyed a mega milkshake too, now that I think of it. As the band of Nomads began to play, I tossed a bone with a little meat left on it to the dogs of the tribe. They fought over it for a moment, but didn't waste to much energy. They knew there'd be plenty more where that came from, as was always the case after a successful buffalo hunt.

Tales of Nomads, pirates, forests and barns bounced off Stone Bridge while the ethereal snowflakes rode the drafts down to earth. Traditional dancing, and the brew of the underworld accompanied the music, all working together to create the thing that cannot be described with words, only imagined.

Alas, all good things must come to an end, or, as my buddy Bob Frost used to say, "Nothing Gold Can Stay". So that was that. As darkness encompassed the crowd, the joy and laughter continued to flourish, and I went back across Stone Bridge.

Wall E

Anyone ever seen that movie Walle? It is pretty good.
As i was walking home on a sidewalk along a pretty busy road I noticed a robot driving a car. The car was stopped at a red light waiting to turn my way. It seemed to be looking right at me. I kept walking anyway. Although I was not headed straight for it, I was still getting closer, but still, there was a robot driving the car. Finally I got as far as I could, and had to wait at a red light myself- now it was C3po's move. Once the car moved, I quickly noticed that it was not a robot after all. It was actually a guy driving the car holding a video camera up, apparently recording. It was the camera that I mistook for robot head.

Even though it was not a robot, I think the weirdness level was the same as if it had been one.

Sometimes I wonder about this place...

The Gym

I have been trying to go to the gym earlier lately- trying to miss the after work crowd. To my delight there have also been less incidences of all the things that irk me, i.e. people smoking right outside the main door so smoke gets inside, people smoking, in general, before working out, or just as they get outside afterwards, less dumbbells and other such free weights scattered all over the floor, less mullets, and less "really cool and strong dudes" wearing tank tops, and less people workign out in khakis, khaki shorts, or polo shirts.

While this is overall a relief, I realize it is probably just because there are less people there in the afternoon, and therefore less of a percentage of people are available to fall into one of the above categories. I mean, who works out in a shirt with a collar on it. Alas, there is still a high percentage of softies wearing these working out gloves throughout their entire workout, including cardio.

If you are reading this, and you are, you might be asking yourself: How serious could this kid be working out if he is taking the time to notice so many things. The answer is very seriously, and very hard. I just happen to pay attention to details, and once I see something, especially if it peeves me and I therefore notice it, it goes onto the mental checklist, and I don't even need to break my stride, so to speak.

Shortcut To Mushrooms

Sometimes when we see a Hobbit in today's world, he reminds us of someone out of the past. A time traveller perhaps. But then when you think about it more, it is mostly because the Hobbit comes from a land without all of the gadgets and doo-dads that you see filling our store fronts today, and they are simply not accustomed too such excess.

These very thoughts crossed my mind as I crossed Bilbo's path again today as I neared the egress point of Old Town intending to leave the safety of the the city walls. There he was, as short as ever, and decked out in his army-camo vest, sporting his guns. At first I wondered how on Middle Earth a hobbit could get a pair of arms like that, but then I realized with all the farming and whatnot, it is quite obvious- like Powder.

I decided to cross the street and observe for a bit. I watched as he perused the few racks set outside of a small shop on sale for ,99 euros. He really seemed to enjoy the fly swatters. He pulled out a few different ones, even though they were all identical aside from the color of the plastic. Practicing his swing with each to find the best fit, he gave himself a tap on the ass, amusing not only himself, verily, but me as well. He gave a few expert swings at an imaginary fly, amusing himself even further as I judged by his laughter.

Ooooh, hobbits.

"Probably the earliest fly swatters were nothing more than some sort of striking surface attached to the end of a long stick."
- Deep Thoughts, Jack Handey

Celebrity Sightings

There is much to update the world of ChrisinthewestofEurope followers on, however I have deemed it of the utmost importance to address the 3 famous stars I saw on my way back to the boat today. Now, if I can just get these seagulls to shut up I could concentrate, kus I forget the third one. Anywho, the first was Johnny Cash, in his older years, 50s I guess, not the youngster portrayed so aptly by J. Phoenix in "Walk the Line". The second was a hobbit, and since I've never seen the real thing before today, I can't say for sure which one, but if the costume people did an accurate job for the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy, then I would have to say I saw Bilbo. I also saw him last night at a bookstore by the way. (Photo compliments of Obi) First I thought small homeless, possibly gay dude, but perhaps the simplistic nature of hobbits lends them to looking naturally poor and homeless in our world. I do say though, there was really an aura emanating from him that is no doubt a direct result of his ridding himself of the burden of the ring that night after the birthday party. (I cannot believe he even surprised Gandalf!!!)

And now for the third celebrity spotted in the old town of Nurnberg, once center of the HRE. (Damn seagulls!!) Well I saw a Hulk Hogan look-alike in the locker room last night, but there was someone today... well it is going to have to be continued, i have to catch a train.

The Day of the Pigeon

Last night someone asked me why it said pigeon on my wrist. Caught off guard, I looked down in confusion, only to remember instantly that it was I who penned the word in blue ink, that is now smudged, on the inside of my left wrist. And now that I am here, I am fulfilling the goal I had in mind when I first wrote the word; to write about the pigeon I saw during class on Friday.

The week seemed like a long one. A lot of information going into my head. It was my second full week, after we started with only a 4-day week due to a holiday. I am still unaware what that holiday was. Actually, it was Labor Day. Erste Mai. I remember studying American Labor and learning of an American Labor Day on May 1 as well, but for some reason we now celebrate that day in early September, and as a student, the significance it had for me was the signaling of a new school year. In Deutschland, and maybe the rest of Europe, they celebrate holidays exactly on that date. I think this practice helps in holding on to the tradition of why that particular day is a special day. In America, with a few exceptions, we always make the celebration day(no work or school!!!) of a holiday on a Monday or Friday so it is more convenient for people I guess.

If the week seemed long, this day seemed even longer. I guess the everlasting cloud cover of the week and of that Friday were some of the culprits. At any rate, I noticed a pigeon, a bird that I have come to disdain since moving here, bobbing its little head around on a ledge across the way. It seemed like a weird place for it to be hanging around. Usually they are hanging around the streets waiting for food or trash to pick through. The idiots here really enjoy tossing a pretzel arm, or a Nurnberger bratwurst to them. I have even seen scattered birdseed out the back door of some restaurants obviously intended for the flying rats. Let's just say, feeding these kind of animals became a practice I do not agree with after my last job. Although, I don't mind a nice bird feeder in the backyard- depending on where you live.

I saw the pigeon carrying a long piece of grass, or perhaps the dried stem of a dead flower in its beak. She then took it to the edge and dropped it. Weird, I thought. Then I paid attention to the lesson again, but kept my peripherals on alert. Then came the pigeon again, with another long piece of organic mater in her mouth again. And once again, dropped. I couldn't see the ground from where I was seated, but as I was on the 4th floor, 5th floor to all you Americans in the crowd, I guess it was a pretty long fall. I saw the pigeon repeat the action one more time, then fly down. After that the story continues in my head. I imagined it then went and found the things 5 stories down for a nest somewhere. Must either have good eyes or a lot of time to bob around trying to find the pieces it chose.

Experiment.

You know when you have an mp3 player, ipod, if you will, and you get bored of the music on there? Well, if you don't know this feeling of ennui, I do. And, in case you do not, I will tell you a little about it now and a possible solution to the aforementioned problem.

So, with 2 ipods in the rotation now, thanks to the good Doctor, and to the one whom some of my former colleagues referred to as my fiancee, one is used for workout use exclusively, and the other for all music types and videocasts and movies. While the movies take up a lot of space, even after your girlfriend has magically made them smaller, they are extremely helpful for those long overseas flights or short domestic flights with crappy, or no movies. They are also very handy when you are sick as a dog, bundled up in your sleeping bag like a caterpillar whilst the wind whips cold rain and ice crystals at your face in the middle of the night and dark at Dead Horse State Park.

To the ennui. So the music at McFit is no good. Sure, they play a good tune from time to time, but not enough for me to go ipodless. Even so, soft music, and hearing always the same stuff can drive a man crazy. Therefore, as of yesterday I have renovated the workout ipod to not just contain 1 run/workout mix, but to have the entire library workout ready. I have deleted all the soft songs, although 1 did sneak up on me yesterday. Now I can simply shuffle songs on the whole device, and with the newly added songs containing much 'energy', it is like a whole new world. I once tried working out with the other one, but I guess my choice to support the cause of breast cancer research by purchasing the pink armband has backfired, and is maybe actually just for the ladies. A little too small when the biceps get going.

The experiment. To see if this lasts, or will I, in time, become bored of the new music selection. And at that point, I am really sure that I'll remember to let you know. Probably not.

A lot of Chickens

Well, I know a lot of people were betting against it, but I have now eaten a bowlful of chicken hearts twice in as many weeks. If I would have discovered that you could be a package full of chicken hearts before, it would have been a lot more. Still, somehow I feel weird sitting down with a bowl full of little cooked chicken hearts in front of me. I remember one time in college I found "Chicken hearts and lungs" at the local supermarket, and there were only a few hearts in there. what a rip. Anyway, the last couple minutes were heavenish.
In other news, After 2 official weeks of Deutsch lessons, I seem to be coming around. I would say I am a better student than speaker right now. I guess I need some more practical experience. The class is compromised of 2 Americans aside from me, 2 Iraqis, 1 Croat, 2 Russians, and 1 Italian, and 1 Indian. Besides myself and the Russians, no one else seems to be grasping the whole idea of the course. There are some who must have been living here for awhile and speak some kind of part German, part their own language and part mumbling. For example, the many, many Turkish people around speak a made up form of German. When I hear it, I sometimes wonder how much acting out these people must do in order to get through a whole day communicating with others. Do they ever really understanding what others' are saying?? No idea.
After a lovely weekend with a lucky lady, I will get to work now on my homework, then catching up on some crossies, with the possibility of some review of other tongues and a necklace creating session.
In closing, I would like to suggest Last.fm for all you who are bored of the songs form their music library you hear over and over again. It is a pandora type deal, and personally, I like it because, for one, I am getting a good dose of 90's music that I thought was gone forever. The link will be on the page here somewhere.

The Rules

A little venting about Germany- hopefully no one takes this personally.

Before I even moved to the 3rd Reich, I learned quite about about the people, culture, and who knows what else. The really important stuff, let us say. It seemed like there were so many laws and rules governing everything I could think of in Deutschland, i.e. codes for construction techniques and results, how food had to be produced, what you do with your garbage, consumption of energy, cannot think of any more.

I will not be addressing all the things above, but maybe.

I remember when I first got here, actually it was in Holland, but the law seemed to apply to anywhere in Europe. We all know the pedestrian walk and don't walk signals for crossing streets, as the Europeans do too. It was made implicitly clear to me that crossing when that light was red was FORBIDDEN. Of course, in the US we have "j-walking", but anyone who has ever been cited for that must have really bad luck. Anyway, it turns out people do it all the time, as do I if it is safe. But let me tell ya, it always feels weird when you go on a red, and there are a bunch of people who were probably part of the 3rd Reich, if you catch my drift, just waiting there for way too long when there are no cars in sight. On top of that, I was told that nothing even happens if a cop stops you for this.

The yellow sack are reserved for recycling of pieces of garbage. The rule seems very strict about only putting these out for collection before 7am that day, but with a week until the next collection, I have already seen a few gross piles of the yellow sacks around town. If people cleaned the pieces of trash as it says on the bag, they probably wouldn't be so gross.

I guess the whole U-bahn, or subway system here became totally no smoking about 2 months ago, but still people are smoking in there. Mostly the lepers and other untouchables of society, who actually don't seem to care for the society or the rules that come with it, but as long as they can read, I would expect them to abide, especially in Germany!

There isn't a rule about this, but just some pet peeves about peoples' etiquette in the gym. I guess this happens everywhere, but I don't see why someone smokes a cigarette right before or right after working out at the gym. I especially love when they smoke right outside the door that is being opened intermittently by people coming and going, and therefore letting in some awesome smoke right into the room with all the cardio machines. No one puts the free weights away when they are done with them, except me of course. And last but not least, I love it so much when people work out with their cell phones at their sides. I think there should be a rule about talking on your cell phone in between sets, I mean what kind of zone is that person in if they are taking phone calls. ANNOYING!!!

That is all for now, but I am sure there will be more to come.

"It's bogus!!!"

"But, it's still the rules."--- A nice little back and forth between 2 characters from a beloved movie of my youth, RAD. The ultimate in BMX racing 80s movies featuring Rocky's wife, and Aunt Rebecca, of Full House fame. I recall a scene in the movie everytime I here the song "Send Me an Angel". I have 2 different versions of the tune in my catalog, and I never dreamed I would hear it blaring out of the speakers at McFit, but I did. Truly an unbelievable occurrence. Anywho, in the scene of Rad where this song makes it into the score, Crue Jones and Aunt Becky do some "bike-dancing". By employing the willing suspension of disbelief, this was fine with me as a young lad. But what I was always confused about was how they got their bikes up into the rafters of the gym to ride them around up there. And, since it is not available on DVD, and the VHS versions are few and far between, I still wonder about this phenomena.

I will avoid talking about "The Rules" in this blog for fear of making it too long and having the readers drop out. So check out the blog that made this whole blog come to mind...next.

"Hulk Hogan, eat your heart out!" -- Rad

PS You can also check out the recently found website devoted to "Rad" here:

I can't believe she made me do that...

Well, I guess I didn't really do it. Not 100% anyway, but I mean, come on, who can honestly bear reading 40 or so pages of one person talking philosophy in a novel. This is what the author, and self-proclaimed philosopher, Ayn Rand had me do this morning after I put it off last Friday when I skipped ahead to see how long John Galt would be talking. Basically, the whole rant could have been summed up in 2 pages, especially these pages and this small sized font. I don't remember most of it, and skipped a lot of it. I just need to vent at what a waste of time. The hero of the book is somewhat admirable, except for the fact that he stole Dagny from Hank Rearden, which I thought was a nice relationship. Secret Power couple.

Now what do I think of John Galt? It reminded me of why I hated philosophy class so much in college. Or reading the assignments rather. Some philosophers have interesting ideas, but then they write like a million pages, describing and giving examples of their theories, which is all they are, and succeed in making it the most boring undertaking of all time. I am pretty sure no one has every thought of philosophy class as exciting. Luckily one's thinking usually ends there, but imagine how boring the philosophers themselves must have been. Averring the numerous theories on how life is meant to be lived, and getting the most out of it and all this crap, while they wither away writing and thinking and talking about the same shit all day long but in different words. Maybe sometimes they would have little boring tea parties with other philosophers and argue their ideas to each other. No one ever won the argument I guess, as it is just their opinion and no facts are involved.

I am not against thinking deeply about things. In fact, I undertake that very action on various things in this world and others that I am sure no other human being has ever taken the time to philosophize about. But I certainly am not stuck up enough to think someone wants to read a few hundred pages about it. Actually, I wouldn't waste my own time in the first place producing something like that.

So, I am just glad that people are talking to each other again, and the story is almost over, and the million page speech is over.
If the book does not get better, and John Galt doesn't hit me back with something goood, I might end up repressing his character from my memory and will indeed be asking, "Who Is John Galt?"

Protein Shakes

Let me just start with something that was not planned in my mind for this entry- I am sick and tired of trying to figure out whether words are spelled with "...ie..." or "...ei..." I am not sure if at 1 point in my life I just memorized them individually- I probably did, but it drives me crazy that there is no system. For instance, in the word protein, the EI combo makes a long E sound, like in teeth. But in the word shriek, it is an IE combo that produces the long E sound, like in cheese. I would have appreciated it, if whoever made these decisions would have been more scientific, if you will, and made some kind of a system. It is a little annoying not knowing how to spell words in my own language. Actually, I don't care if I know how to spell the words, I just want there to be a system, so when I come across a word like this, I know what to write. AAAAAnoying. At least in German EI makes one sound, and IE makes another, always. Unless the word is foreign, like French or some other tongue.

Okay now that I wrote that, I forget why this was called protein shakes. So give me a few. While I am thinking, I guess I can write about protein shakes, and protein bars. I recently went on clifbar.com to see about ordering the protein build choco mint bars en bulk, thinking that ordering directly from the producer would save some money. I was used to the 1$ or 1.3$ of Trader Joes for these little guys, but found a box of 12 would cost 21 USD. maybe that is the same as the 1.30 each, but still- straight from the manufacturer, and en bulk, come on fellas. It's all ball bearings these days. Stupid monkeys.

Protein bars here have about as much protein as a tigers milk, which is not a lot, and they are way too expensive, even before converting it to USD. And let me tell you about the protein powder. The word for powder by the way is Pulver. I found that interesting because of our word pulverize, and the many versions of it. With the writing on most labels in a foreign tongue, I had come to believe that no one here was worried about the amount of protein in the things they eat or drink because I figured the word would be similar enough to identify, as are a lot of scientific type words. Finally I read the labels of a bunch of different protein powder types and brands, and had come to believe they were selling egg-white protein here. Seemed weird, but then I figured out the word for protein in German is Eiweiss. Egg white. What a pain in the ass. Funny translation though.

When I thought about the etymology of the German word, I imagined a land where their sole source of protein must have been eggs, or egg whites rather. Then my logic caught up with my imagination and realized they must have had chickens, so why not call protein chicken. Then I thought maybe it was more sustainable to use the chickens for eggs mostly until the end, when they ate them. But seriously, they must have had a lot of other animals here, so my argument held no sound. I guess that would be like the Japanese calling protein fish. Or maybe tofu. Because at least then we know that is all they had. Or, were there animals in Japan?

I get most of my lead from paint chips, so I think I am going to start calling lead 'paint chips'. "Hey, Jimmy, can I borrow your pencil? Mine ran out of paint chips. Thanks."

I guess I never got to protein shakes or powder, maybe next time. I guess the eternal question still stands, what came first, the egg or the chicken.

I'll take the latter.

Good Weather

Weather is nice, unfortunately I am under it. Well, I guess we are all under it right now, except for you astronauts out there. Good news is the Walking Tour is complete!! Aside from that, just sitting in bed sick and thinking I probably shouldn't have went to the gym last night or the day before. So now I shall try to put a slideshow on here. You may have also received it in the mail if you are on my Snapfish mailing list, if not send me your email and I'll include you from now on. There is a link below in case my plans don't work on here.

Revenge of the check out lady

The trip to IKEA was a success. Granted, it was tough to find where to pay, and the 2 items I went to buy were unavailable, but the thing that overshadowed all the negatives was the free sample Swedish meatball. It was tough holding myself back from taking 5 of those cute little delicious things, but I stuck with only 1. Yes, I am a friendly soul and was nice enough not to cause drama in the life of the girl putting the toothpicks with Swedish flags into them.

I am starting to think one could ride around Germany's public transportation system for free. They really barely check if you have bought a ticket or anything. Apparently you can get checked randomly, but I think with my seldom rides and fabulous luck I would be just fine.

Then it was to Lidl again yesterday for foodstuffs. I was planning on picking up just one item, so no cart or little plastic basket or anything, but I somehow accumulated just a bit more than I could handle. This made it even harder when I had to face the cashier lady. Luckily I got everything into my backpack and paid in time before she winged someone else's groceries at my little fingers. Of course this was only due to the fact that she forgot to wing my own bananas at me so I had some extra time to pack it all in.

I was wondering why so many coins are gathering and making my wallet so heavy, then I realized it is because I never have enough time to count some exact change and get rid of it. There are also 1 and 2 euro coins instead of bills, which are obviously a lot heavier. I also realized with the speedy checkout routine, they could give me back whatever change they want because I never have time to count it- just gotta throw it in the wallet, or pocket and get the hell out of there.

CRB Walking Tour almost complete, after today all pictures should be in hand and undergoing post production for the masses to gather en masse and enjoy the massive buildings wear people attend mass.

PS, I Love You

PS- also on the roster today will be some milk drinking, because today is the 14th of April, and that's what it says on the carton. Also, I am not sure if I have translated this correctly, but I think I bought "Party Potatoes" last week. Awesomeness... Wish me luck.

Sweden in America, or Germany

IKEA- place to find Swedish stuff in America, but it also seems to have a place in the market in Germany. So, What is the plan? New comforter cover and pillow cases. Getting there will require a walk and a subway and a bus and more walking. Getting back here is what I am worried about. It should be easy enough, the bus really worries me though. I mean usually bus stops are a little busier than the subway station. Smaller writing, less time to decide to get on or not. At first I considered the search and purchase one of the challenges of today's journey, but now I am thinking it won't. So, let us all just hope that my mind can think quickly, and the directions I have written down are good enough. Did that CB Walking Tour of Nurnberg last Thursday, but as I was short of time after waking up at 1, I still have some to finish maybe today, or else tomorrow. Depends how long it takes me to shave the winter fur off my body. At that juncture, I will let te readers of this blog in on the photos from the walking tour. I think we all remember that famous CRB Walking Tour around the island of Qingdao in China. What a success.

Matthaeuspassion

It has been awhile since I attended mass for Good Friday, and this year was no different. I also am not totally sure if the Friday before Easter is even called Good Friday in English; I guess that is an indication of the last time I worried about doing something special on that day. Lord knows I was in the middle of nowhere in Santa Fe county last time this day crossed my path, or trail, if you will. Obviously I was not doing anything then, nor for Easter. But I preferred what I was doing.

Notice that I said I did not attend mass. I was, however, in a church. A little place called St. Sebald kirche, for a little something else called Matthaeuspassion conzert. I thought I was going to hearing some nice orchestra music, but it turned out to be some kind of play type thing written by Bach. I did enjoy the full ensemble of instruments, and even though I didn't understand the German, I would have stayed had that church not been so freezing. After the first part ended, we headed outside to take in the warm rays of the sun, and once that happened a nice cup of kaffee outside the Durer Haus seemed more appealing then freezing our arses off for another 1 hour, 2 hours? --that is what we did not want to find out. It did feel good to do some kind of cultural, religious type thing, in case it's all true.

They are calling the day Karfreitag here, which apparently has no meaning, just like Sylvester- the German name for New Year's Eve, don't worry it is not a direct translation. I originally told them that Karfreitag was Black Friday in English, I guess I thought this because this is the day commemorating JC's ailing up to the crucifix and eventual death. I'm pretty sure I was way off though, and Black Friday is the day after xmas with all the deals in the stores- the only time of year they are in the black. So the question that I cannot answer now is...why is it called GOOD Friday?

What Is Grosser?

A thought and question from sometime in the past two weeks.

What is Grosser?

Coming home from the gym and the stairway up to apartment is smelling like the smoky old lady who lives downstairs and smokes the whole time,
OR

Hitting the streets early one morning and seeing pigeons salvaging what they can from a pile of puke(vomit, throwup).?


I was pretty frustrated with not being able to breath clean air after running, but the pigeon thing was not refreshing either.

The Ninja Bumblebee walking tour is today. It was supposed to be yesterday but time got the best of me, and actually I may only have 3 hours now so we will see what we can do. I was on a small walking tour of the town yesterday evening so I got some new ideas for photos. I am sure mine will be better though. Mainly because I'll be thinking to myself in English, as opposed to trying to listen to someone in Deutsch.

The Check Out Line

I know some of us Americans out there are accustomed to a leisurely experience when buying groceries. I am not sure if the same goes for purchasing non-food wares, but at least I know with groceries, it is anything but leisurely.
Back in the good ol' US of A the cashiers probably thought I was mentally slow or on drugs, because boy did I take my time looking for my savings card, money, id, you name it. But you could talk to them. If you wanted to.

Here in Germany, when they say halooo, that is about it, then the total cost, then wiedersehen- see you again. (Not with that cockiness, missy) I guess in America you get used to the grocery stores. I have lived in a couple different places there, so at this point probably any grocery store I encounter throughout the Us I will know, and is probably a partner of another one I have frequented before. It just seems weird to have totally new stores from which to buy food. The names seem weird too. Lidl, Hit, Rewe, Norma. And of course here in Little Istanbul, there a bunch of Turkische markets that I am not sure even have names.

Maybe the cashiers in America are rushing in a way, but you don't notice it because usually there was someone bagging your groceries while you took care of the money business. But here there is no bagger, and no bags even. You can of course, by a number of any different type of bags at the counter. I guess this is good for recycling and getting people, like me, to reuse the bags we have, or else invest in those canvas ones.

Sometimes I try to get all my purchases into my bags before she asks for money, but I always fail. I guess I still have work to do actually, because usually I do not even have my stuff off the counter before the next persons sheisse is being forcibly slid down into my pile.

It is a real race let me tell you. I f I ever want to cause no trouble, I just throw everything into my cart, and sort out the bags and whatnot at another spot, which seems to be the general practice. Just another moment in the day of an American in Germany.

The Vacuums

Is space really a vacuum. Doubt it.

One thing that I really love about Germany is the vacuums. I do not understand why this technology has not made it to America, but let me tell you, itsa niiice. Lucky for you this blog will be short, because the thing I like about them is that the chord is coiled up inside of the vacuum on some kind of spring system I would imagine. So you pull it out and it stays out, then you just tap a button and that thing gets sucked in so fast it is like a rogue firehose flapping around on its way back into its home. It really makes vacuuming fun.

The Bat Mobile

It is 7:30 am, I am guessing. Some light creeps through the outer shields of the batmobile- obviously the shield was not lowered all the way. I am not sure if I was awakened by a pee or what. Then I heard the shields being raised one by one, that is what woke me.

It happens every morning around this time, the shields on the windows are taken away, and the house can once again take on light. The first time it happened, I had no idea what the noise was. But as the days went by, I realized it was a morning thing that the Germans are raising these shield-like things that cover the outside of the windows at night. My first thought was the batmobile, hence the title of this blog. I guess it happens at night too, the shields going down that is, but I guess I don't notice it as much as the morning because it is quieter obviously.

So, just a part of German life that is not present in America that I noticed and thought I would share. Now that I am living in a separate apartment now, I control the shields, and lets just say it doesn't happen that early, sometimes one doesn't come up until late in the day even. But it is definitely good for the night time, and for blocking the morning light.

Present day again

Okay so this just happened this morning, and I didn't want to forget about it, so, although I am not up to date with the blogs, had to skip to today. So I was walking across the Plaerrer, obeying all of the pedestrian crossing lights, which takes longer than just going underground, but it is nice out today, so. As I was awaiting my last green pedestrian and bike light, I noticed a man descending the stairs to the underground hesitantly. He had his hand up to his mouth. I thought he was either considering continuing to the underground route or above ground on account of the nice weather- just as I had contemplated a few moments earlier, and maybe he just nibbles his finger or something when faced with such a difficult decision. My second thought was that he was a chapstick lover(like myself), but was using a spread-on version instead of the actual stick version. I was thinking, maybe he is a lost American and I could aid him as a good neighbor.

Then, an arm came from out of my view, and grabbed his arm. A woman, presumably his wife, had made the decision for him, and they would be taking the outside route.( Or so I thought as they came back up to the top of the stairs). That is when I noticed they were both sporting clear little flexible, coiled wire extended from inside the collar up to a single ear. Something was going down.

I quickly gathered that they were searching for someone, or hunting maybe. Hunt. They sort of ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. I haven't seen this phenomena actually, but in my words I would say they looked like some people on a scavenger hunt being guided through their earpieces by a person in a helicopter high above. Pretty pathetic. Although the plain clothes threw me off at first from afar, my many years of independent covert agent practice had shined in that moment, and thought of how much better a job I would do of trying to hide my identity. I mean, what kind of technology requires you to move the microphone of the earpiece to your mouth. Lame technology, that is what. Anyway, after some delicious cold soup, I will now hydrate for the gym.

Silly German undercover people.

Back to the future, again

Well folks,

Didn't want to go off my intended route, so no gummi bears. Tear. Salty solution from my eye, not rip. Anyway, I guess I actually did pass the place with the bread, but I was thinking of getting the little fruity delicious bears at a different shop. I must have forgot about that. Blast. I did go in to pick up some strawberries and different bread, for breakfast, and saw the gummi bear and other shapes section. SUCCESS!!! I thought, ,89 cents, indeed. That is when I picked up the bag and noticed a lightness. So I checked out the package and realized it was only 200grams. Now, I don't know what a gram is, but I know that 300 grams is more than 200 grams, so I decided to opt out of the lesser weight for the same price. Okay well that is all.

Quick Fix

While I am still not yet up to today on the blog calendar, I would like to take a ride on the blog time machine- on second thought, better take a ride in the blog time machine, kus those things can go pretty fast. Anywho, our destination is right now. I am about to head out on the town once held as a center for the HRE, that's holy Roman Empire to you and me, for a few errands, and I was just thinking I need something to subsist on for the journey. 2 things come to mind, no 3. taste, price and health benefits or (deficits?opposite?)disadvantages. So we got something I discovered yesterday called Turkische Pide, basically a large amount of a flattish bread for ,60 Euros, or gummi bears which run at ,89 euros.

So. the only thing the bread has going for it is the price and quantity. Buuuuuuuut, I think I am gonna go with my gut on this one, not to mention with the better taste and health benefits.

In reality, I don't even know why I wrote this all out. I don't think time travel was necessary to change the course of time on this one, but thanks for reading and helping out anyway.

Chimney Pigeon

So after a long and boring wait at the airport where I ate a cheap hotdog tagged as a bratwurst, and about 1/10 of the size it was on the picture, they finally called my little section. I did get saurkraut on the cheap little wiener, but it did not make up for all of it's other shortcomings.
To my dismay I was not as lucky as on other flights with getting my own entire row to sprawl out on. But, as this was a direct flight, I was willing to make some sacrifices. I first thought I would knock the guy next to me out with a quick, explosive elbow shot to his left temple so I would not have to talk to him, but I decided to play it cool instead.
Eventually we found out that we both spoke English. I actually already knew that I could. So we talked a bit, then we got the first of a few free drinks. Some "German" beer that I had never heard of before. As if that mattered! There is not much more to the story, until the end when our stewardess deemed our drinking fun over, but was too spineless to say something, so she had the dude stewardess come over. If he really meant business he wouldn't have brought those 2 last beers with him. I am not sure if it was the fraulein's lack of vertebrae as I had initially thought, but maybe the feeling of letting down Germany. I think we all know the Deutsche people portray themselves as having the best beer and being big drinkers, and the simple fact here is that she failed in her role as an ambassador of her nation. In half a century ago, well, I don't even want to try to guess at the consequences of her lack of patriotism.

And yes, the pigeon from atop the chimney across the way is still there...Next episode: travel with me to the Franz something airport in Munich. Until then, consider this original quote:

"When it comes between a footstool and a ladder, I'll take the latter."

Hugging, Primping, and Flying

We awoke, and said our goodbyes. From that moment on, I was officially on my way to ‘see about a girl’. Unfortunately the flying machine set to jettison me to my second to final destination would not be doing so until later in the day, but it did give me the chance to see the sights, and smell the odors of the city. Good old New Netherlands. Peter Stuyvesant.

After some primping, I finally took one last trek back to the subway with the only possessions that I would possess for almost a year, all crammed into a few bags and sacs.

Boy was it a relief to finally get them tagged and put down in the bag sleeping room under the plane. I wandered a bit, worked on some crossies that have been stored away for months, maybe even years from the DC days.

I don’t remember much from there on, except that my excitement of flying Lufthansa was abruptly ended when I didn’t have my own monitor, located in the seatback in front of me. Although I do remember thinking of how cool the other passengers must have thought I was, walking around in a leather jacket and a blonde Mohawk. Wow, the computer automatically capitalized Mohawk. I guess me and it are on the same page. All those Germans waiting in the hangar to return to their motherland, must have been wondering if I was actually on their plane. Were they scared or happy? I always imagine how some peoples’ first impressions are rebuked by their second impressions when they see me whip out a million crossies and complete them in a short while right before their eyes. Whipping out the Chinese book on the plane works the same way.

Okay, now I remember the flight. Turkish guy next to me. Beers. To be continued…

Skyscraper National Park by Night

So I guess no progress was made in that last entry.
Okay, yeah I was off to see my good friend, the good doctor, or Dr. Kimble as his “patients”/victims call him up in the big apple.

The initial plan had me traveling there via Chinatown bus, but when the reality of the number and weight of all the bags set in I had to sacrifice a few more clams for comfort, safety, and a smaller chance of getting lost on the way to my friend’s wormhole. So, it was Amtrak, and a direct route to Penn Station. Arriving later on in the evening was not a problem, as the good doctor was working late making some house calls. That, and we both knew nothing could deter us from what lay ahead. Not late arrival. Not the impending early wake up. Nothing.

I cannot say honestly that my back and arms did not suffer greatly while I lugged my luggage(whoa, I think we figured out where these words came from) up and down stairs in the NY underground, and eventually down the 3 longest city blocks these feet have ever walked. And I thought fruit by the foot was long. Not anymore!

Finally, after some miscommunication with the bodyguard, I found the man I was seeking. Although fresh from kimbling around town, the doctor greeted me with open, warm-blooded arms. We did some laundry, visited Skyscraper National Park, on a slightly less than conscious level, and then wined and dined, the way they do in good ol’ Erin.

Speaking of which, I missed St. Patrick’s Day. What kind of Irish-American am I?

Stupid Mr. Bleck

Today I write to you sprawled out on the couch, multi-tasking it by stretching the backs of my legs as I write to hopefully rid my body of the pain that ensued from my first time doing squats in a long, long time. Eons, maybe. Maybe Aeons. Aeon flux? Either way, the lion is on my left guarding my kaffee, and the Eskimo is at 10 o’clock chillin’ with the candle.
The Deutsch word for squats is kniebeuge(n), not sure about the n. I thought the word made it seem a lot funner than it is in reality. (I see by the red, squiggly line under funner that it is not the proper English, but as long as “squiggly” as actually a word, I am not fixing “funner”.)

Back to the future, or the past as it were, but the future for you who are all trying to figure out how I got to my present location. If I mean this sofa, that has a lot to do with the story of two days ago, or vorgestern, and the scheming of the employees of Mr. Bleck’s against me whereas they turned off the internet on me every so often. Just enough to piss me off. The best was when I was first at the “new” Mr. Bleck’s, and did not order anything because I was not sure if the internet would even work, but still stayed there for awhile trying. I didn’t really care kus I had never seen the barista before. Then when I went to the originally discovered Mr. Bleck’s and began surfing the gnarly internet successfully, the conspiracy theory became no longer a theory, when the guy working at the other Mr. Bleck’s came in to do his second shift at this one.

That is when the internet stopped working. Jerks.

Where the deer and the antelope play

In my last job which I like to call encapsulating all aspects of manliness into one human organism, I tried to let the kids learn something about America. In doing so, sometimes I would randomly break out in a solo. Usually I sang the national anthem, America, the beautiful, god bless america, etc. But at one point when i was making a barbed wire fence it seemed fitting given our surroundings to sing "home on the range". I realized I only knew the one verse, and I inquired with a girl who had internet on her pda device to check it out. Turns out there is more to the story, which i intended to learn, but have not yet done so.

So I was back on the range. Saw the family a few times. Saw the more recently added members of the family, a few nurses who may or may not work for the biggest government entity to be run by vampires- still looking into that one. Helped feed some homeless dudes, talked to some people, and saw of course the best dog in the world. In the midst of all this seeing of living and non-living things, I threw a lot of trash away, got rid of even more excess, and tried to pack the most needed things into not a lot of space that would have to last me the better part of a year. Needless to say, there was no chance of leaving the numbchucks behind, and the same goes for a jumprope with wooden handles that I cannot remember ever using, and will probably never use.

After all the packing and preparation, which was mainly just the packing, it was off to the big apple to see an old friend, and flap my way across the Atlantic- or, Big Green Lake, as the native jojoba tribe called it before the white devils arrived on the east coast of America and devastated most of the population.

"You can never go home"

So I didn't go back to see where the last blog left off, but I believe I was flying hi over the continental United States on my way to the city of brotherly love. I do not remember the flight, but if i had to guess I passed out with earplugs in before takeoff, but somehow, magically woke up as the girls with food or drink approached. I love looking around and seeing how anxious people get as they look forward to receiving their free tiny drink, or tiny snack. It is as if everyone is starving to death. Which, I am sure they are not. I on the other hand am usually literally starving to death. I don't know why, but it always seems to work out that way. So, I feel the same as those people on the plane look, but I, of course, do not show it.
So, eventually I made it to the final destination for the time being. I was glad not to share the same fate as in the movie "The Final Destination." A lot of times I am on a plane and feeling helpless if it explodes or something. What a waste of life. If I was somewhere else, at least I would have the chance to escape death, but up there, even if i got out of the infernal blaze in the cabin, I would surely not survive my fall to Earth without oxygen, coldsuit, and parachute.

Anywho, the parentals found me at the airport after some confusion on their part about pick up locations. From there we went to the place I have called home all of my conscious life. I am trying now to refer to it as their house from now on to "grow up". No matter what I call it, it will always be home though, probably. However, now when I return there I am seeking people and dog that reside elsewhere.

In closing, the title of this one is not from the crappy bon jovi song. Those feathered bangs. Although, I do like bed of roses. It is from a poem, probably where he got the idea for his song.

The long road home

The trek through the air came a lot quicker and more abrupt than anyone knew. It just so happened that my last week of work was cancelled, and I was only working for about 2 days at my old job. The combination of this with the fact that my lady got a job, and would therefore not be Eddie Murphying, or coming to America to you youths in the crowd, is what made it happen so fast and unannounced.
I took 2 days to pack all of my belongings and whatever useless garbage I had accumulated over the past year+ into my seriously overweight 2 carry ons and 2 check in bags. And I had to pay for the checked baggage of course. In the end the checked luggage was only a few pounds over each, but they felt really heavy. I am sure the homeless guy, my welcome wagon who led me into the Flagstaff station to meet my means of transportation would have agreed if I had let him carry some of the baggage per his request. I am not really sure where that guy came from actually, and I was battling severe head aching and balance problems at that early hour after an intense goodbye celebration.
That was a tough morning.
Needless to say, it was a relief getting rid of the baggage at the airport no matter what the price. I then did who knows what. Probably drank as much water as possible, with perhaps a coffee and free refill from a little place at skyharbor airport, and worked on some found crosswords that originated in the always left behind newspapers scattered around my departure gate seats.

So, I was off to Philadelphia...TO BE CONTINUED

Opening Remarks

Well, here we are again. Not that I have ever been here before. Well I have been to Nurnberg before, and I have been to Mr. Bleck's before, but we will discuss all that later. I have decided to write a web log, or "blog" to the 2009 hip youngsters out there, because I think there are a lot of things I would like to get down in writing as a sort of time capsule. Other reasons for me deciding to write this new blog series even though I am really tired and really want to order a bagel because it is the cheapest thing on the menu and i am starving are as follows: I can just send this link to people who may or may not be interested in my adventures through life instead of updating people on an individual or mass basis via email who I am not sure want to be updated................to have something to do.................because I found an interesting location to do it from, Mr. Bleck coffeeshop...............I am sure I thought of a few more reasons than that just a minute ago, but that is all i have for now.

Anywho, my old blog, Chris in the West, was undertaken by yours truly to document and share my activities and thoughts and absurd ramblings on living and working in Arizona and the greater southwestern United States, which I think I did pretty well. Lived in and worked there that is, not recorded all I wanted to successfully in blog form. So as a segue from that one to this one, I will give the from AZ to Nurnberg, DE, via phl, nyc, and was as briefly as is humanely possible. And I do mean HUMANELY, because as you may know if you have read a previous blog, they are not fun to read, and I would be surprised if anyone has gotten to the end of those weird, misspelled blogs of the past. This one I will stick to my word on attempting to write correctly and all that so people of all nations and who can speak English, or read it, will be able to do so without straining their brain muscle.

With that, this blog seems pretty long so far, so I will just say that I hope to catch these blogs up to the present day asap. Also, so I do not forget, there are a lot of oranges at my 11 oclock, and an oversized fake coffe cup on a coffee cup plate at my 12 oclock. Art? Not sure, but I am bound to find out one of these days.