München: 9.28.09

As you can probably guess, we spent most of Tuesday sleeping off Monday night. :) We alternated between resting and working all afternoon, and only left the apartment briefly that night to see Noelle at Green Leaf. Unsurprisingly, she didn't remember much of the night!

With one week left in Munich, it became time to start doing all the things we wanted to squeeze in before leaving. We tried to go dancing on Wednesday night, but the club we ended up at - 089 - was packed to the rafters. It was barely even possible to bounce up and down! We danced as long as we could stand the confined space, then went to sit on a balcony outside. A few guys nearby soon befriended us, curious about where we're from. We explained where we live and what we do, and instantly we were heroes. :) It feels very strange to call myself a writer when asked what I do, but what else can I say? That is what I've been doing to make money! What a dream come true!

One guy was particularly fascinated by pickup, and wanted to hear all about how to get girls. Meanwhile, a girl was trying to get his attention and he shooed her away. :) 1st rule of attracting women: don't ignore them in favor of talking to us!!

The rest of the week has been pretty quiet...Holy Home (where a bartender tried to kick Jon out for asking that an incorrect drink order be fixed!), working under the bridge again (where I learned - the hard way - that the water temperature is actually quite pleasant), a last trip for currywurst and fries, and another night at Oktoberfest. We ended up in a tent we hadn't seen yet - can't remember the name of it, unfortunately. It was a typical night in a tent...lots of toasts with random people, lots of singing, lots of dancing with strangers. After the tent closed we wandered amongst the rides, enjoying the incredible people watching opportunities that Oktoberfest offers. I also finally got the candy apple I've been aching for, and Jon got the giant bratwurst he's wanted. Both were quite delicious. :)

The highlight of that particular night, however, was the "friend" we made on our way out of the park. It's really no wonder other countries often have such bad impressions of Americans...I haven't met a single cool American since we've been here! This particular guy was from Alabama (I know, I know...a red flag already) and was stationed in Munich with the Army. Good God, I hope there aren't too many like him representing our country abroad via the military! He was nothing but loud and obnoxious and rude. And don't get me wrong - it was hilarious for a while - but it got old fast!

He accompanied us to the street where all the clubs are, all the while regaling us with stories about how he's sick of German girls because apparently he's gotten so many of them since he's been here that he's totally over it. My favorite story was about accidentally talking to a girl who turned out to be a tranny and then sprinting down the block to get away from her, because apparently if he'd stayed a second longer he might have suddenly found himself feeling the urge to put on a dress and prance around in a pair of stilettos to the dulcet tones of Cher and Barbra. I pointed out that if he couldn't tell it wasn't a natural girl right away, he should actually consider himself lucky - he'd found a good tranny! - but he seemed less than impressed with my rationalization. :) *pats self on back*

All of the clubs were packed - a Saturday during Oktoberfest! - so before he could follow us any farther, we told him we were going to go check out a gay party. If you're going to be a homophobic ass, I can at least use it to my advantage, right?! He left us immediately, and we headed to Eden, the bar next to the gay club. Dancing like fools and an unexpected meeting with old friends from the beginning of our trip completed the night.

Fun Fact: The word for shot (as in "a shot of vodka") in German is "schnell," which technically translates to "fast" or "quick"...I thought that was cute. :)

Other than that, we're trying our hardest to learn a little Hungarian before we arrive in Budapest on Thursday, but I'm finding it surprisingly difficult. The hardest language I've tried to learn so far, actually. I've also diligently been studying theories on how to create effective plots and characters, in preparation for starting to outline my new story. It's getting pretty exciting...I've never really actually studied this stuff before, but from what I'm reading I've already been doing a lot of stuff naturally! It's very encouraging!

Also encouraging: the little bro smashed a track record that had been held for four years, and pulled off a top three finish with a broken car!

I spy, with my little eye, two siblings with very rosy futures... :)

München: 9.25.09

Failed to quit while I was ahead on Monday. Oops!

But, in defense of myself and the institution of Oktoberfest, most everything about the night was tons of fun. :)

Our first and most glaring mistake was having next to nothing to eat all day. A little fruit for me, a little pasta for Jon, and some bacon for both of us. The plan was to get meter long bratwurst for dinner at the park.

We met Noelle, our bartender friend from Green Leaf, on a nearby bridge and walked to the park, poking fun at the barely-remaining-upright revelers who passed in the other direction. Little did we know that we would be among their ranks just a few hours later! Noelle led us straight to the Augustiner tent, which has a reputation for being one of the best tents at Oktoberfest. Not only did we get in without having to wait in line, we actually found seats at a table! The atmosphere inside a tent is electric. It's worlds away from the ambiance of the rest of the event. "Merry-making" sounds like such a twee phrase, but it's the only way I can accurately describe life inside a tent. So many people are dressed in traditional clothing; the building is decorated in greenery and fairy lights; everyone is waving around a mug of beer, shouting along to the classic German tunes played by the band at the center of the room. Oktoberfest might be the only place in the world you can dance on a table and not be called a slut! Everyone is standing on the tables, arms wrapped around each other, swaying back and forth. Cries of "Ein prosit!" pour forth from a thousand smiling, blissful faces. The energy is completely infectious...after a short walk around the tent, I too had developed the same giddy grin and euphoric look. If the world could always be like the inside of an Oktoberfest tent, it would be a very happy, peaceful place.

We ordered our beers and settled into conversations with the Ukrainians to our right and the New Zealander across from us. He had some pretty amazing stories...he's traveling and working for a couple of years (and I thought six months seemed like a long time!) on a bus that he rented with a bunch of his friends. He'd just come from running with the bulls...twice. We were also joined by a Canadian ex-pat who now lives in Germany, and a guy from Seattle. This is what I knew I'd love about Oktoberfest. It's a chance to meet people from all over the world and everyone is immediately friends, united by a common cause (even if that cause is drinking!). It's like Burning Man, but with significantly less glitter. Though rest assured that I was doing my part to make it as sparkly as possible!

I desperately wanted to join the throngs of people dancing on the tables, but it's a little hard to get wrapped up in a song when you can't even understand the lyrics. I was hoping and praying the band would eventually oblige me with a tune in my native language. A little "Ziggy Stardust," perhaps? Some "Satisfaction?" A rousing round of "Pokerface," at the very least? Finally, I began to hear the opening measures of something I recognized. I jumped out of my seat and launched myself onto the table, overwhelmed with the excitement of finally being able to join the bobbing, throbbing masses when -

No.

No, this cannot possibly be.

My shoulders fell into a disappointed slouch and the proverbial wind whizzed out of my proverbial sails.

The song the Augustiner tent had chosen to represent my homeland was..."Sweet Home Alabama." Quite possibly the most over-played tripe this side of "Love Shack."

But, when God gives you lemons, throw some whisky over them and have Lynchburg Lemonades until you can't remember the problems that made you start drinking in the first place! I did America proud and sang as loud as the best of them. After that catastrophe, the band treated us to some swing music and a beautiful rendition of "Hey Jude." Somehow two more beers appeared for Noelle and I, so we diligently began working on round two. Ah, the blessings and curses of being a girl! On one hand you get lots of things for free, often without even asking for them in the first place. But on the other hand, you then feel obligated to consume said things as a way of saying thank you for them. Oh well. I'm generally pretty good at looking like I've had more to drink than I actually have, so I abandoned the tail end of the drink when the tent began kicking the crowd out at the end of the night.

We spent the rest of the night wandering around (never finding dinner after all!), doing what Oktoberfesters do best - being generally loud and obnoxious. Singing, dancing, laughing, meeting entertaining people, giggling at public nudity...all the staples of the world's biggest drinking festival.

The journey home was pretty uneventful until Noelle walked straight into a parked scooter, which promptly keeled over and trapped her, prostrate on the sidewalk, beneath itself. That attracted a little bit of police attention, so we figured it was in our best interest to keep moving!

There are few times in my life I have been quite that happy to see my bed. I can only imagine how Ben's frat put themselves through a week of this and came out alive! :)

A few photos courtesy of Jon

Bacon-wrapped sushi!! (Moscow)

The crowd in the subway before the soccer game (Moscow)

Jon being artsy (Munich)

The elevator, on the way to a night out (Munich)

In our 5 star hotel (Moscow)

A bridge near our hotel (St. Petersburg)

Photo Post!!

From Moscow:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2531811&id=837516&l=91bab52fbe

From Munich:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2531818&id=837516&l=029a9e5098

Enjoy! :D

* * *

PS: If clicking the link doesn't work, try copy/pasting the URL instead...Blogger seems to be having an issue or two!

München: 9.22.09

Sorry for the delay in actually writing something of substance...most of life is just so quiet here that I think "Not much to report, I'll do it later" and then I never do! Shame on me.

Monday and Tuesday were, however, just that quiet. And Wednesday was even more quiet, because we worked too late and decided it was silly to go out at that hour in a city that closes so early.

Thursday managed to be a bit more exciting - we went swing dancing!! :D Who would have guessed we'd have found a bar with a once a week swing party here? They even had a live band, and the place was packed. The Germans really love their swing dancing, apparently. Some were quite good (and one was delightfully, spectacularly bad)...I couldn't stop staring. I miss it!!

I felt a bit icky on Fri, so I stayed in and sent Jon for a boys' night out (although really just a boy's night out, I suppose!). I caught up on reading and job hunting, and hopefully he caught up on enjoying bachelorhood. :)

Saturday was the big day...the start of Oktoberfest!! So far, I have mixed feelings about it, but I'm sure that at the end I'll remember it all fondly (if I remember anything about it at all, that is...if you remember your time at Oktoberfest, you probably didn't celebrate properly!). The event is completely insane...how does this city put up with it for two straight weeks?! We got a bit of a late start - work and trips to the post office come before revelry! - but headed to the park where it's held as soon as we could. The place is an insane asylum with flashing lights. So many people that you can't move without brushing up against someone else. Lederhosen and dirndls as far as the eye can see (particularly funny because the girls, of course, try to skank up their outfits as much as possible!). The food seems truly amazing: crepes, sausage, giant pretzels, chocolate covered fruit. And of course, there is the beer - giant, one litre mugs of it.

We started out first experience of Oktoberfest by grabbing lunch, which ended up being a sandwich with some kind of fish in it. A lot of the sandwiches looked quite good, but unfortunately this particular fish turned out to be a little too fishy. We abandoned it a short while later, heading instead to the dessert booth that had, of course, caught my eye. :) It was absolute heaven (and not at all fishy!). I'm fairly certain that I will end up enjoying Oktoberfest more for the food than for the drinking! Oranges, bananas, and strawberries on sticks, covered in all different kinds of chocolate. Candy apples in a rainbow of colors, and apples dipped in chocolate as well. Assorted fruits smothered in some kind of thick, sweet glaze. *sigh* I think I'm gaining weight just writing about it! We settled on the strawberries, and then began exploring.

We wandered around the various tents and carnival rides before choosing Lowenbrau, which I took a fancy to because their tent is decorated with a large mechanical lion drinking a beer. :) Turned out not to be such a good idea...we waited in line for two hours, and still didn't make it inside! We did meet a few cool Australians, though, and one or two that were terribly obnoxious. After getting too fed up (and extremely touch phobic...I had no idea that still bothered me so much!), we left the line and settled for standing outside. I thought I was going to be miserable all night, but it turns out that one litre beers improve morale considerably. We proceeded to hang out with a girl from Ohio and her boyfriend (who writes about cars, so of course we started talking about racing!). I popped into the bathroom quickly, and returned to find Jon talking to two very drunk Italian sisters. One in particular kept tipping over backwards, even though she was just standing! She was obsessed with San Francisco and the " 'ippy life!" :) After we left them, we wandered around the park and bought delicious roasted nuts and a caipirinha (they make you leave a deposit for the glass, in case you don't bring it back!). We called it a night shortly after that...after all, this is Oktoberfest and neither of us were sick - quit while you're ahead!! ;)

München: 9.21.09

ON DANDYISM:

"I say that a dandy needs no explanation, no justification, no interpretation. Instead of analyzing the dandy, we must return to the dandy’s Regency roots and directly experience with our senses the luminosity of dandyism itself.

If you must coat the dandy with some intellectual veneer, then think of him as an existential hero. In response to our mass, abstract, anonymous, and impersonal society, he asserts his singular self. And, in dandyism’s grand tradition, he chooses to assert his superiority in the most frivolous manner possible.

I prefer to think of the dandy as a lily of the field. The Bible reads, 'Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin. And yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.'

So, dear reader, purge yourselves of philosophical pretensions, emulate the lilies of the field, and ponder life’s most important question: What will you wear?"

:):)

München: 9.20.09

OKTOBERFEST HAS BEGUN!!! :D

I promise I'll get a good update up here soon...

But in the meantime, two random facts to make you smarter:

1) Einstein was once offered the presidency of Israel.

2) Water can be lowered below freezing temperature without freezing.

Who knew?

München: 9.16.09

A fantastic scene between Captain Aubrey and a man named Fleming (and later Stephen Maturin), from The Thirteen-Gun Salute by Patrick O'Brian, to demonstrate the author's genius:

Aubrey: "What do you know about the last American war?"

Fleming: "Not very much, sir, except that the French and Spaniards joined in and were finely served out for doing so."

"Very true. Do you know how it began?"

"Yes, sir. It was about tea, which they did not choose to pay duty on. They called out No reproduction without copulation and tossed it into Boston Harbour.

Jack frowned, considered, and said, "Well, in any event they accomplished little or nothing at sea, that bout." He passed on the necessary allowance for dip and refraction to be made in working lunars, matters with which he was deeply familiar; but as her tuned his fiddle that evening he said, "Stephen, what was the Americans' cry in 1774?"

"No representation, no taxation."

"Nothing about copulation?"

"Nothing at all. At that period the mass of Americans were in favour of copulation."

"So it could not have been "No reproduction without copulation?"

"Why, my dear, that is the old natural philosopher's watch-word, as old as Aristotle, and quite erroneous. Do but consider how the hydra and her kind multiply without any sexual commerce of any sort. Leeuenhoek proved it long ago, but still the more obstinate repeat the cry, like so many parrots.

"Well, be damned to taxation, in any case."

München: 9.13.09

I am rapidly becoming obsessed with the idea of giving myself a full, outside-of-any-institution education. I was starting to worry about finding books in English once I finished the pile I brought with me (there's only one left!) but it occurred to me that there are countless books online, if the copyright is old enough (100 years, I think?). So my new plan is to devote the rest of my reading time to the classics of literature and philosophy, with occasional breaks for important things like Patrick O'Brian. :) My O'Brian is almost done! I've finished the 13th book, which means only 7 more! I know 7 books sounds like a lot, but it seems like nothing when you've become so attached to the characters...*sigh*...Hollywood had better get around to making another movie, and preferably not based on the book that rumor has been saying it might be based on. They could do far better, though as long as they include the sloth no film will be a complete failure ("Jack! You have debauched my sloth!").

Both On Beauty and A Brief History of Time are now done, and both still come highly recommended. I've picked up The World According to Garp in their wake, as it's a relatively modern classic and somehow I have managed to skip over it thus far! It's off to a good start, particularly as the characters are currently in Austria and I'm enjoying being able to read all of the German they're speaking. My favorite German word of the moment is "geschlossen," which means "closed." It's hard not to fall in love with a word when it sounds so ridiculous in sentences. The best I've encountered so far is "Weil die Geschafte geschlossen sind" - it only means "Because the stores are closed," but it has such a nice ring to it!

Friday night was the first real night of excitement in Munich that we've seen. We tried our best to go dancing, but it proved to be even more difficult than in New York! I don't recall ever being turned down at a club for anything other than an ID issue (and let's face it - those are few and far between!) but we were rejected several times that night! Private parties, supposedly, at a couple of clubs, and a "members only" night at Baby, the venue we were really hoping to go to. We ending up somewhere else nearby, that was fine if you were just looking to dance, but beyond that the atmosphere was very frat party-ish. It seemed like where all the other clubs' rejects go! There were two rooms - one that played house, and one that played everything else. Germans have extremely random taste in music. We got a little Rihanna, a little classic Green Day, a little "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun," a little hip hop, a little "Hey Ya" and a little Backstreet Boys. It was...ecclectic, shall we say?

Oh! And I forgot to mention the best part about Friday! All you can eat sushi. In sushi boats (kind of). Let's just say we did obese Americans everywhere proud. :) I think we managed something like 34 plates. We were actually sort of hoping they would kick us out for eating too much...it would be a badge of honor, really!

Saturday was more reading, more research, and more looking into programs of further study that might interest me. We event went on a little adventure! After getting breakfast and going grocery shopping, we decided to try to work under one of the bridges we cross every day. It was quite the epic journey...Homer would write an interminable poem about it, I'm sure, if he were still alive. First we had to crawl, groceries and laptops in tow, under a wooden walkway. Then we clambered across a stone divider between the two tracts of water. Then we arrived at a part that was a couple of feet lower, where we had to walk across a balance beam-esque plank of wood to the cement divider on the other side. After walking along this for a short while, we came to a wall and had to shimmy down, bracing ourselves between it and the divider, to a small stone ledge. From the ledge we had to jump across a fish-filled bit of river and a few rocks to the bank on the other side. We crossed the bank and journeyed through some tall plants (think Amazonian explorers hacking through the jungle), tiptoed across a line of rocks to get across another bit of river, and finally arrived at the section of dry land beneath the bridge. It was all terribly harrowing, particularly as my bag contained a carton of eggs in addition to the laptop!! Everything survived completely unscathed, and we had the good fortune to find two rocks with perfect sitting spots carved into them. The trip back seemed much easier - though Jon did manage to punch me in the nose as he caught me after I jumped across the water at one point. We also encountered a goose directly at our feet, that was either very friendly or very ready to attack the trespassers invading its territory! Somehow we managed to escape unharmed, and we returned home safely. :)

And in other amazing news: WE HAVE TICKETS TO SEE JOHN BARROWMAN IN "LA CAGE AUX FOLLES" IN LONDON!! Woohoo!!!! *dies of excitement*

München: 9.10.09

My sincerest apologies for failing to update with more frequency, faithful readers, but I fear that nothing of extraordinary interest to anyone but myself has occurred recently! Jon finished the big project he was working on, so hopefully we'll have more time for exploring soon! The past week featured two more trips for camembert and bread, a couple of visits to Green Leaf, and another meal of currywurst and fries. We've also started cooking, which has been rather nice - pasta with seafood, pork chops, chili - tonight's menu features baked ziti. We seem to have adopted a habit of sharing something for breakfast/lunch, then having our big meal around 5 or 6, and then possibly something smaller later in the evening if we're still hungry. So far it's been a good change...I feel more awake, have more energy. Now I just need a gym or a pool or a yoga studio! I'm actually starting to miss exercise...me of all people!!

Our days are much the same - Jon works, while I try to find work! - although now I find much of my time is devoted to my own writing. It's been a long time since I've been so inspired by something, and it feels incredible! Ideas are constantly flowing though my head, jostling for position. I haven't started writing the actual story yet, but I've typed up a lot of the basic info...plot ideas, descriptions of locations and the main characters, research needed for the story...I'm getting distracted just thinking about it now.

The rest of my afternoons seem to be occupied by Torchwood and Oxford withdrawals. Torchwood because it partially inspired my own story, and Oxford simply because it's amazing! I started watching videos of Gareth David-Lloyd to stave off the Torchwood withdrawals (and now I've fallen completely in love with him, because he's adorable!), and have been researching Oxford's higher degrees to lessen the pain of missing the university. Unfortunately, it's just reminding me of how much I truly adore the place. It just feels so right - I belong there! Looking at photos really does make my heart physically ache. It's rare in this life to feel so strongly about something, isn't it? So how can I ignore it? Oxford feels like a part of me (or a very important part of my self-concept, for you psychology nerds out there), so living my life without ever attending seems like condemning myself to live forever with a gaping hole in my chest. Histrionic, maybe, but the truth. And the most terrible part about it all is that, ultimately, I have no control over the matter. I can break my back studying and apply every year until my arthritic hands can no longer fill out the application, and they can still choose not to accept me. I would like to give it one more chance, at the very least. I would go this instant, if they'd take me, but of course funding is utterly nonexistent. I'll be ancient by the time I can afford it! And what if I'm rejected? Do I try indefinitely? Do I settle for a summer course? Do I give up? Do I consider - God forbid, saints preserve us - Cambridge? *shudders* It's far too horrible to think about...

Let's discuss something else, shall we?

Munich at night has so far proved to be much quieter than Moscow or Saint Petersburg. Or perhaps we just haven't found the right venues yet... We've visited New Keybar (technically called Holy Home) a few times now. It's always busy, but we haven't connected with anyone yet. We seem always to get lost in our own conversations - I think we seem to fall into "deep" conversations more easily here than in NY, which has been quite nice - and end up ignoring everyone around us. The best was a discussion that somehow managed to range from my writing to morality to the possibility of time travel to the supernatural and unexplainable. Most of those topics I tend not to discuss with others, so it was interesting to open up a bit and hear another person's opinions.

I have also been occupying myself with Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time, which I was hopelessly addicted to after just one chapter. I picked up On Beauty by Zadie Smith as well, and it's also quite good. Both come highly recommended, for anyone who is looking for new reading material. I'm starting to miss school - or rather, I think should say "I'm starting to miss learning," because I believe that's more accurate - so I'm doing my best to keep up my education on my own! I'm engaged in two books, write every afternoon, study a little bit of German every day...now I'm starting to do research into the actual scientific theories behind time travel because I'm rapidly becoming fascinated by the topic and I've been doing research on Ancient Rome for my story. That means I've got English, creative writing, foreign language, science, and history...I think all I'm missing is a little math, or I'd have a complete liberal arts education going on!

If only I had a little more time and a lot more room in my brain...I need to do more work with my Russian, and I'd very much like to add Latin to the list as well. Not to mention that I've become desperate to learn some kind of Gaelic language, though I can't decide which...votes?

Now I just need to discover a way to make a living being a traveling writer and self-taught intellectual...hmm... *ponders* ;)

München: 9.4.09

So far, Munich has proved to be quite a nice little town. :) We haven't met many people yet, but the people we have met seem to be very friendly. Everything here feels more relaxed than it did in Russia. There's less attitude, less pretension.

Our second day here was bright, sunny, and warm, and succeeded in melting away all the bad feelings of the previous night. There's no wi-fi in the apartment and all the surrounding networks are locked, so we had to trek a short way up the road and sit curled up on the sidewalk to do our work. Aside from the internet issue, however, our apartment is quite cute. It has big windows that let in lots of natural light, a very European looking kitchen, and has, we both agreed, a very nice wood floor. It's also across the street from a field of beer - yes, a field of beer - which is one of the more amazing things encountered in my life so far. There's a brewery just up the street, and they store cases and cases of beer stacked two stories high in the empty lot across from us. There's almost no security, as far as we can tell, except for a small fence, so we have no idea why it doesn't get stolen.

I'm just now finishing up the cold that has been plaguing me since the day before we left Russia, so I've been rather subdued in Munich so far. I spent most of my first afternoon here at home, reading and writing, while Jon was out at an internet cafe. When he returned, we had a lovely European dinner of sausage, soup (tomato for me, goulash for him), and camembert on bread. It was quite good, from what my stuffed nose could tell! It is a cruel, cruel injustice to be in Europe, surrounded by so much delicious food, and not be able to taste a single bite of it! It rather ruins hard liquor as well, as you can't taste the flavor but do feel the burn...you're left with only the unpleasant part!! Thankfully my nose is beginning to right itself today, so I have high hopes of tasting something perfectly delightful tonight.

After our meal on Tuesday night, Jon and I stopped in a bar that was advertising mango daiquiris. Not only did we discover tasty frozen drinks, we found a native English speaker on staff, an American from somewhere in Florida. He was very kind to us, as was the other employee working that night, so I'm quite sure we will be returning to the place frequently during our time here. It's called the Green Leaf, and our new acquaintances are John and Noelle. We walked back home and passed out asleep immediately upon arrival.

My next two days were spent very diligently trying to get my first round of written correspondence ready to be mailed. I purchased new stationary (it's absolute perfection!) and new sealing wax (a metallic gold) for the occasion. I have decided that I need to find someone to make me a custom seal. What should I put on it? My first thought was a peacock feather, of course, due to my obsession with them. Perhaps with an E in the center of the eye of the feather.

Jon and I went on a very nice walk on Wednesday and discovered an amazing open-air market. Every stand looked so inviting...vibrant flowers, exotic meats, cheeses with names you can't possibly pronounce, fruit that is riper and more colorful than anything you have ever seen...it was, as Sebastian Flyte would say, "heaven with strawberries."** I could spend loads of money there, if only I had the appetite to match! We also came across something called The Victorian House, which advertises afternoon tea. I can't wait to go (dragging Jon along with me, of course!).

He very nearly took me voluntarily, after I received a very disappointing bit of news. I had been invited, on Elance, to bid on a project posted by someone in search of a writer to pen a novel. I was shocked to discovered that I'd been asked to take on such a daunting task! How could I turn down the opportunity to write my first novel? It was also a chance to earn a great deal of money (at least by my standards), which I certainly need. I was hoping to use part of it to take Jon and myself to London for a day or two, to see John Barrowman as Albin in La Cage Aux Folles (we are still planning to make the trip, thankfully, which I am positively giddy about!). And let's face it, my resume could use the boost in prestige that a novel would bring, and this project would have actually been enjoyable to work on! I completed a one page writing sample that I KNOW was good, but couldn't email it until a few hours later, when I finally had access to the internet.

The internet proved to be my downfall, I'm afraid. On Wednesday afternoon I received the message that the woman hiring for the job had received my sample too late, and had already chosen another writer. I'm utterly heartbroken over the matter. She added that it was "quite well written," which was nice to hear, but it's still all très, très disappointing. I'm hoping now that the provider she chooses will mess something up and that she will reassign the project to me. In the meantime, I placed a bid on another big book project, though it's a book on plastic surgery and not a chance for creative writing.

I just finished "Son of Oscar Wilde," a book written by - wait for it - Oscar Wilde's son, Vyvyan Holland. It's made me fall in love with the man all over again, and has left me feeling very inspired. So much so, in fact, that I've begun the preparatory work for a new story (I envision it, one day, as a series of novels). I'm falling in love with the characters already. :) I still find that it's not all clear to me yet, though... As cheesy as it sounds, I really do feel that characters and plot write themselves, and at the moment neither has fully revealed itself to me. They are very clearly begging to be written, however, as they seem to occupy most of my thoughts these days. I'm afraid I've probably become quite bad company to Jon these past few days, as I find that I'm often falling into bouts of silent story contemplation! I am now very much mourning the fact that I neglected to bring a notebook on the trip, as I prefer to handwrite in the early stages.

But I am becoming pretentious and digressing...

Wednesday night featured a quintessentially German dinner: a meal of currywurst and fries, that came with a glass of beer and schnapps. I'm sure it would have been quite good, had I been able to taste! We then stopped by the Green Leaf again, to end our night.

As per usual, yesterday was spent hard at work. Jon made dinner for us that evening, then I got a little more writing done while he went to work at Starbucks. After getting a wee bit lost, I met him there and we discovered a cute little bar - all painted and lit in red, almost a replacement Keybar - that was packed with people. We had a round of the sweetest beer I have ever tasted, then moved on to the little place where we'd had dinner on our second night in Munich. We ordered the camembert and bread again, and two glasses of champagne that were a vast improvement on Russian champagne.

After that, it was a slightly rainy walk home and bed, my mind still occupied by a constant flow of story ideas rushing through it!

**Brideshead Revisited, by Evelyn Waugh

Москва-München: 9.1.09

Begrüßen Sie Deutschland!!

Part two of Elyse and Jon's Excellent Adventure has begun...

Our final days in Russia were rather quiet and disappointingly well-behaved. Saturday was spent very respectably, and Sunday, our final full day in Moscow, was much the same. We made our last visit to the Look In Cafe, which became a sort of second home for us. We ate the last of our Russian street food, and waved goodbye to our bar. The best part of our night came after we left the bar, when we went to sit in Pushkin Square. The night was relatively warm, so we cuddled on a bench and had a nice long talk. I would have loved to have stayed longer, but sadly nature was calling and I was beginning to develop a cold, so I figured it would be best for me to get inside and get to sleep.

Oh no!

I just realized I neglected to tell you about the excitement of our afternoon! We'd noticed throughout the day that the police presence in the city, particularly in the subways, had undergone a dramatic increase. We couldn't figure out why - there was no immediately apparent reason for it - until we began to notice an influx of people wearing red and white garments on the subway. They announced their arrival with drunken shouts and simultaneous chanting, and soon the reason for the strengthened police force became all too obvious: it was game day. Russians take their soccer games so seriously, apparently, that it takes the police force of an entire city (or so it seemed, at least) to keep them under control. The trains became so crowded and noisy that we couldn't tell which stops we'd reached, and began to worry that we'd miss ours.

Then we had a second revelation.

Our metro stop was called "Sportivnaya."

It was the stop for the stadium.

The entire population of Moscow was headed our way, and they were drunk out of their minds.

Things were going to get entertaining.

And entertaining they were. :) It's hard not to get caught up in the energy of massive amounts of people, and indeed it proved to be quite infectious! I couldn't help smiling as everyone yelled and chanted and sang their fight songs. We arrived at the Sportivnaya stop to find that everyone did in fact exit the train and begin rushing towards the stadium. All three escalators in the station had been redirected so that they were moving up, to get everyone out as quickly as possible! It was incredible to see so many people packed into such a small place. Jon took a great video of the crowd singing on the escalators.

Once we exited the station, we discovered that not only were the police out to safeguard the city from rabid soccer fans, but the military had been called into action too!! It was very intimidating, actually, though still rather hilarious. After a lengthy, unsuccessful search for a beer for Jon (apparently Moscow had consumed its entire supply, or something), we followed the inebriated mass of humanity to the stadium. Again, no beer. We considered buying tickets, but the game had already started at that point and Jon had a lot of work to do. The city was covered in empty beer bottles for the rest of the night. I really must attempt to attend a sporting event while I'm away...I forgot how much crazier they are in Europe!

On Monday, following that rather grand farewell to Russia, Jon and I began the journey to Germany.

My, did that turn out to be a complicated day!

We arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare, only to discover that the plane was delayed an hour. We took advantage of the business lounge's free wi-fi, then went in search of food. The restaurant we settled on told Jon that they didn't accept cards, so much to his dismay he had to find an ATM and take out more roubles, just before leaving the country. He was gone for a long time, and when he finally came back he was in a terrible mood. The ATM had TAKEN money from him, instead of dispensing it. We wandered, looking for a restaurant that would take cards, when I remembered that I still had roubles. We went back to the original place, had a surprisingly tasty salad and sandwich, paid...and then watched another customer pay by credit card. The woman working behind the counter was clearly mentally deficient.

Luck was somewhat on our side, however - as we walked to our gate, a maintenance man was working on the defective ATM, and he was able to refund part of the money. The flight itself, thankfully, was completely uneventful, beyond some minor confusion over the smiley face that Jon signs all of his credit cards with. Once in Munich, we tried to find the bus that we'd been directed to take into the center of the city. Our search rapidly got us nowhere, so we abandoned it in favor of another bus and a cab. Our cab driver didn't speak English, so he called over another driver to figure out where we needed to go and, after several tense minutes of conversation (we still had to pick up the key for the apartment we're renting and we were already late), we were on our way.

That's when disaster struck again. Jon suddenly sat bolt upright in his chair, eyes the size of a Weight Watchers participant staring at a piece of chocolate cake, and asked if I'd seen his laptop.

I hadn't. Both of us desperately searched our brains for a memory of putting it in the cab, all the while driving farther and farther away from the bus that possibly contained it, but came up with nothing. We struggled for a moment with trying to find a way to ask the driver to pull over and open the trunk, miraculously settling on something that he understood right away. Jon dove out the door to check, while I crossed my fingers and prayed that nothing else was going to go wrong on an already stressful day.

And, at that moment, it didn't. Jon sat back down, obvious relief spreading across his face, and said that we had it. I let out a breath that I must have been holding since we pulled over, and we continued on our way.

Unfortunately, the quiet, dark street that we arrived on didn't look like much of a destination. I curled up on the street, nestled snugly amongst all our belongings, and guarded the luggage while Jon went in search of a phone with which to call the person with the keys. He was gone for an eternity, or perhaps it just felt like an eternity to someone who is falling asleep on the sidewalk because they're exhausted and have the flu. I was expecting a passerby to toss change at me at any minute, they had such pity-filled looks on their faces! Finally Jon reappeared, then promptly disappeared again into the building across the street. When he emerged, he had the keys in his hand and we set off for our new home.

We got in to the front door of the building with no trouble, and the owner of the apartment let us in to her place. It's very cute...a little hippy, as was she, but light and airy and definitely bigger than our apartments in New York. She left after chatting with us for a little bit, and shortly afterwards we followed suit. We grabbed a quick dinner and headed home for an early night. Between being sick and all the traveling, I was completely wiped. We exited the elevator, walked to the door, and put the key to the lock.

It didn't fit.

No matter what Jon or I did, the lock wouldn't budge. We spent the next...hour and a half?...two hours?...trying to convince the key that it was, in fact, going to work for us. Jon tried EVERYTHING - different keys, a credit card, filing the key into a different shape - to no avail. He was very much the rescuing superhero, come to save the day, while the damsel in distress fought with all her might to keep her heavy eyelids open. I was very ready to curl up in the hallway and call it a night! After exhausting all our resources, we wandered around our new city a bit and stopped into a small Turkish bar on the corner of our street on the way back. We asked if they would call a locksmith for us, but everyone there (clearly the owners/employees and their friends) was convinced that one of their men could get it open. They looked like the Turkish mafia, sitting around a circular table smoking and playing cards and discussing how best to break into an apartment.

Two of them returned with us, and tried card after card after card to get the door open. Nothing worked. Miserable, Jon and I were ready to give up when, by some incredible miracle, the door creaked open. Jon took the guys downstairs to buy them beers, while I prepared to pass out for the night.

What an ordeal.

Welcome to Munich. :)