Another One Bites the Dust.

This morning while I slept, another Spaniard left via Lufthansa. The picnic yesterday was in honor if him seeing as it was the last time we would all be together in that fashion. There was a lot of “Have a good and safe trip!” and “Good luck with your last year, and in life as well!” but no one cried this time. And yet there was a definite heaviness in the air last night.
After leaving the park a small branch of people went off to Morgenrot, (or is it Morgen Rot?) and we grabbed a few Becks and sat along the ripped up tracks on Kastanian Alle. They are refinishing that part of the street so by day there are bulky Germans working diligently and by night it collects people poring out of crowded bars.
After an intense and slightly drunken search for falafel with another Spaniard and an Italian I ran like hell to catch my late night tram off home. I sat munching my now very messy falafel next to a guy who took some sort of interest in watching me eat. Regardless of the time of day here, Berlin scares up some strange folks.

Each of these days has just been so normal as if Thursday is never going to happen. Yet, I have already started packing, started collecting my things from the shelves, and started to decide what I am going to leave behind/donate to the next tenant. By Friday this will be her apartment. This comfy chair, as ugly as it is, will be her ugly chair, and so/so forth with everything in this place. But I will be happy to see people. I will be happy to see Virginia again. I miss, strangely enough, the way it smells there – especially when one is driving down Battlefield Blvd. heading toward the N. Carolina border. In many ways, as much as I love this city and have taken advantage of my time here, I can’t help but think deep down I was meant to live between a field of collards and corn.

Last Sunday of the Last Week.

I'm going to miss the Sunday mentality of the German's, even if three and a half months ago I couldn't understand it. (Sundays and holidays are celebrated solely by purchasing discounted electronics and clothing in the good old US of A. I didn't follow why the Germans had yet to catch on to this.) Now, I get up late, make coffee/breakfast, and just enjoy my very much-needed alone time.
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On this special Sunday is a little gathering of the other Students in a park for food, wine, and music to celebrate another person's last night in the formerly divided Hauptstadt. I made the mistake of not preparing ahead of time and grocery shopping before Sunday so there will be a makeshift potato dish substituting as my contribution this evening. If all else fails there is always a bottle of wine that can be purchased.
---
Before Thursday there is much shopping at the Galleria that needs to be done, (after I see how much money there is left in my wallet.) I’ll be looking for another piece of luggage, some chocolate, more books, (just say it… nerd,) and maybe some knick-knacks for my new studio next semester.
I half imagine that it would be cheaper to take another trip to Poznan where the only phrase I know, Nie mowie po polsku, (which is probably spelled/conjugated incorrectly,) has gotten me by rather well.
But thankfully, I can shop tax free at the Galleria Kaufhof, (one of the few perks of not being an EU citizen,) so I think I’ll stay local for the next few days.
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I know that Berlin will always be here, and I have every intention of returning, but I hate that feeling of time running out. I arrived only yesterday with a 20 Degree temperature difference, my life savings in my purse, and a suitcase containing everything I own in my left hand. Now, as it always seems to do, time has crept up on me once again after getting settled and comfortable here. Yet, on the other hand, I cannot wait to see friends back in theStates and give them all of the souvenirs I know they want so desperately. We’ll have a beer, catch up like we always do, and then run off into the night to get tanked in the vast cornfields surrounding the suburbs of Norfolk. The homecoming this week is bitter sweet though seeing as my final fall semester will begin the last week of August in Pittsburgh. I’ll have enough time to shrug off the jet lag in Virginia and then must pack up my life once again and move for the third time in seven months. I am going to look at it this way though; at least I have an apartment so call home on Fifth Ave.

I see and understand now why Berlin sleeps on Sunday. I'm going to miss it.

less then a Week.

Flight: BA0985
Status: Confirmed
From: Tegel (Berlin)
To: Heathrow (London) Terminal 1
Depart: Thu 3 Aug 2006, 16:35
Arrive: Thu 3 Aug 2006, 17:25
Duration: 1hr 50mins
Class: Euro Traveller
Operated by: British Airways

Flight: BA0225
Status: Confirmed
From: Heathrow (London) Terminal 4
To: Dulles (Washington DC)
Depart: Thu 3 Aug 2006, 19:40
Arrive: Thu 3 Aug 2006, 22:35
Duration: 7hrs 55mins
Class: World Traveller
Operated by: British Airways



and then a four hour car ride to Chesapeake. then an eight hour car ride to the 'Burgh.

See This Train?!

I caught it, (metephorically,) about seven or eight months ago out of Pittsburgh and even took a plane across the ocean to get out of dodge.

.yet.

I'm still getting ghosts in my inbox.

Better news later.

the second Photo Essay

Shopping in Poznan

Signs in Poznan

Random Obersvation

I already sent it into Engrish.com

On the Latest Train.

It is a bit rattling to be barged in on my two hulking German police officers saying very sternly: "We must see your passports please." They swoop in really, wrenching open the door it is only then you hear their heavy footsteps land right next to your seat.

Mother, Brother, and I were traveling on the Warsaw Express from Poznan to Berlin, (about a 2.5hr. trip.) I collected the passports and handed them swiftly to the larger gentlemen in uniform clogging the doorway. When he stopped to look at my Visa I mentally choked. It is in order I know but I half think in the back of my head I will be dragged off by these two men who, even at their age, could do it very easily. Next come these two huge stamps from their satchels that make a car rattling “CLANK” as they press the time and place of border cross-age onto a piece of blue paper in my passport.

More photos coming soon, I believe a second photo essay is in order. These are both from Poznan.

June the Vampire.

Yes. It's true. I have no life and am on this damn thing more then a normal blogchild. I'm quite the webstalker, and roam around the vastness of the internet for hours looking for someone or something to make my next five minutes stand out from the last.

I just can't sleep with the snoring from one family member and the very audible sleeptalking from another.

Instead of rest, I sit here at my desk with the same little mix playing lightly in the backround - my favorite song has just begun. ('Herfst en Nieuwegein' by Spinvis.) It goes well with the light breeze coming in from the window and soft sound of typing in my corner of the apartment.

I also just finished talking to Ducky, who I miss more then words can express. (!!!) She was kind enough to fill me in about the comings&goings of folk on that side of the pond, and sounds a bit stressed unfortunatly.

I am truly curious to see how my three weeks at home will go when it comes to seeing everyone that needs to be seen/ packing for my, (dare I say it,) last year at Carnegie Mellon/ and feeling comfortable around special topics that will remain unclear.

::immediate thought::I want to drive down 664 heading into Norfolk from Newport News with Ducky. I want to speed towards the Wave, and see the spooky children. Next I want to see theKiller's soon to be former roommates and get as fucked as possible in the closest bar with as many people as can fit into the booth. Then I want a whole day with La Bella. Dawn to Dusk please.


Speaking of which, here comes the sun. Funny how that happens.

Skip It.

Everybody sleeps on Sundays.

...Except Mother, who wants to wake up bright and early for brunch in Prenz/berg.
Brother, Mother, and I left twenty till noon and met a Guest at the M10 stop. After what was the best buffet at the most random russian restaurant on Knaack Str., (across from the Wasserturm, to give those who want one an idea,) the four of us wandered to Tiergarten and into the Bazaar/Flee Market featured directly off of the S-Bahn station.

The buying of gifts for friends back home is finished.

Sunday, is just the quiet sleepy day here in Berlin. I mean if you really needed a party around here, I'm sure you could find it somewhere. Yet, who would want to? It's nice to: take a long nap in the middle of the afternoon/ eat an amazing Indian meal in Freidrichshain/ read some newly aquired books/ check email without expecting there to be anything/ be suprised by an invite to an exhibit from a fellow artist/ listen to the older Spinvis album shuffled together with the Eraser whilst blogging.

I'm getting used to this way of living and yet I leave in less than two weeks.

Cubic Club

I am sitting at my laptop, (a bit buzzed and very tired,) hoping that tonight was not my last night in Berlin.

I know that it wasn't, but it really felt like it.

I left Mother and Brother here in the Apartment in order to fuck off towards the deeper part of Freidrichshain to meet with other exchange students for some wine and good conversation. By 2am I was wandering with the group down Warshauer Straße over the bridge past the S-Bahn Station and into Krauzberg. Don't ask the exact street where this place was, but do I know it was a bridge over from the OstBahnhof.

For two Euro we wandered past a large open club made of glowing green cubes and on to a 'beach' on the river. I'm guessing the green minimal sculpture serving as club/bar was the reason this place is called Cubic Club. After conversing with classmates and new 'friends,' I followed the two Italians, the Dutchboy, and an Austrian to the happening in the middle of dancefloor. With bags in the middle, we made a circle to dance in while enjoying two Euro beer and the occational drunk salutaion from a stranger.

I wanted to continue the massive amounts of cigerette smoking and beer siping for the rest of this night, but knew I couldn't blunder into my apartment half tanked at 6am in front of family and expect to make it to Sunday brunch by 11:30.

To keep it breif, the music was generic German trance, with the expected lack of talented/excited German dancers - but it was still one of the best nights I have had here in the city.

In the middle of the crowded dance floor filled with glowing European guests I looked up into a light red sky at about 3am and thought: I will never be more happy.

the 21st.

In order to escape the intense heat this afternoon, Mother, Brother, and I rushed into the latest exhibition at the Neue National Gallerie.

Berlin Tokyo
Tokyo Berlin
die Kunst Zweier Städte

luckily, I had my trusty notebook, (used for the occasional scribble as well as old-fashioned journal makin') and have gotten the names of German and Japanese artist's alike that are worth looking into. (If interested, you should know where to find my email address.)

Can you believe that the little Virginian-girl saw six real On Kawara pieces, as well as a few Hannah Höch's, a Daniel Richter, and two installations from Yayoi Kusama!!

(Mind you I have only scene slides of these pieces until now.)

I was in ecstasy this entire afternoon just slowly walking from one piece to the next and standing so close the guards got a little nervous.

(There were some goose bumps.)

After purchasing two graphic novels in the gift shop for myself, I left with Mother and Brother to wander into Potsdamer Platz. After a nice glass of Riesling and a small snack we decided to check out the Rundgang at UdK, even though with my many trips to and fro from the Uni all week - we had watched them slowly put up the whole thing. With no surprises found there, it was back to the U2 and once again back into the oven that is Berlin at mid-afternoon.

The Birthday Dinner took place at this little cafe on Kastanian Alle. Once we realized that they didn't have food, (they ran out?) Mother, Brother, June, and Guest buggered off to the Beirgarten right across the way.
(Very good food, no - AmazingFood. Senfeier... who would have thought that three hardboiled eggs, mashed potatoes, and thinned Dijon mustard could be so damn...good?)

I received an illustrated German Bible, which was the best and most on point gift I have received in a very long while, and enjoyed watching my mother entertain the Guest with stories about our dog, Lola.

The entire day, my Inbox, Handy, Myspace Profile, Instant Messenger, and Blog were filled with Birthday Wishes, which made my day more then any big ShinDig or presents would have. (Thankyou. Really.) The best salutation though, came from theKiller. He never actually said 'Happy Birthday.' (too easy, too emotionally close or friendly.) Instead, he does it the way he does everything (using a ten foot poll), which I would like to think means more. He's being nice, I know, but the sweeter little girl in my heart is stirred and I find myself going to bed less jaded.



p.s. unrelated link