Eiskaffee macht alles besser...

I have to rub my wrists around a bit from a long day of mouse.clicking. cut. paste. cut. paste.

As of today I'm officially a resident of Bremen. A Bremerin. I had to take the Straßenbahn out to the 'Bürger Service Center' to register myself. I sat in an office that came straight out of a Wes Anderson movie. Big friendly middle-aged, curly-haired German man behind his desk piled high with papers and knick-knacks. Leather Rucksack on the chair. Old old advertising posters on the wall. Anyway, he asked me what my address had been in Berlin and I couldn't remember it. Bizarre feeling. Do you remember the shoes you wore in fifth grade? of the telephone number at you childhood home? Kind of like that feeling. Of course as soon as I walked back out onto the street it rolled onto my tongue. Meisenbusch 6. I knew it started with an 'M'.

Everyone keeps complimenting me on my German - I think it's probably because 1. I don't say much and 2. I have a pretty good accent. I know how to mimic speech patterns in the language and it's amazingly satisfying to do so. This is all so dangerous though because then people don't think I'm foreign -- I don't get a handicap even though I kind of want one! Sometimes I'm tempted to whip out my American accent so they know.

Really though it's just that, well, big surprise, I'm totally afraid of making an ass out of myself. It's one of those qualities I really wish I could toss. So this means I don't say much. I'm nervous a lot. It's exhausting I feel a bit like Amelie always going straight home to my apartment. At least she had a cat. the thing is I love exploring but I love exploring with backup.

Confidence is really building every day though. Little victories, like successfully completing any verbal interaction with a store clerk. Talking to friendly, helpful people. Helping old people. I helped an old woman cross the street the other day and today an old man thought I worked at the aforementioned 'Bürger Service Center' and asked me where he could get the right form for something having to do with old people. I had no idea but i could at least explain to him where to ask.

Once I get myself into the idea of enjoying the process, it all starts to look up. It's kind of like a new relationship when you think, why isn't it more comfortable to ____ ? but then you realize it WILL be eventually and goddamn it it wouldn't be as much fun if you got the whole package at once. Like lindsay once said about good friends...they need upkeep, evolution, always something new to discover so that you get closer and closer to hold tight.

the tree outside my balcony is getting it's leaves. every day a little more green.

In other Bremen news:
I feel like I'm constantly going to get run over by bikes here. They all ride on these red brick strips on the sidewalk and they're actually not allowed to ride in the street in most places. Germans take their cars very seriously. Whereas on a bicycle it is common enough to talk on the cell phone or smoke a cigarette. I think in the US it might be exactly the other way around, nicht? Oh! and it's hilarious how the pedestrians won't cross the street unless the little green man is lit. The street could be 7 feet across and the people will just pile up on both sides, waiting. I had to see on eperson break the rules before I had the gall to walk on red myself, but now it's me out there - representing Boston as jaywalker nummer eins. i'll probably be arrested. Or run over. Let's hope not.

So now that I'm getting settled I'm realiying that ithis is actually just what I had been begging for -- plenty of free time and some mindless labor so I can relax and maybe work on my own things. but without that whole comfort and confidence and social preening part. I plan on cooking a lot, doing yoga, all the things you don't have time to do right when everything in your REAL life is yelling at youl. hm. which one IS my real life?

Oh and, um, I got all A's again. GodDAMNIT. I'm so disappointed. To think I could have done so much less this semester...

Check out my flickr page. Eventually I'll get better at working the photos into the text...
http://www.flickr.com/photos/gretamerrick/

Carleton...or somebody...can you tell me how to link my flickr page to my blog so you see the little pictures that are links to flickr...you know what I mean...I'm so helpless..