I know, my dear avid readers, that you are expecting another wonderful insight into the workings of our universe. A metaphysical journey so intense, so euphoric, that suddenly life as you know it ceases to exist and you are you, ready for the fight and yearning for blood, willing to rip the throat out of any unfortunate soul that happens to cross your path and fire your soul. But today I disappoint.
Originally this blog began as the brother blog to my lifetime roommate's musings and complaints about an otherwise dreary existence (please visit http://www.pishowish.blogspot.com/). However, after soon realizing that Andrew had no intention of posting (until now) and I had no chance of developing a loyal readership, my writings evolved from the sad attempts to match his humor to an otherwise indecipherable babble.
Even now I'm stuck in limbo, a midway point between his crisp writing and my own ideas. I want to write my thoughts, but I also want everyone to realize how funny, attractive, and intellectually superior* I am when compared to my Rambo-esque rock of a roommate.
With his writings so awfully contradictory to my own, I shout to the world my own ambivalence and my own love for life, as evinced by my off-the-beaten-path response to his last post. I'm a full person, not just a tormented soul looking for love in my own loveless way. I laugh, I cry, I smile too much, I'm wracked with wonder, need, and hunger, and an ever-growing yearning for my humorless roommate. Even with our forced bonding over the last two years, our ups and downs, our fights, our resolutions, our Gauntlet Legends still-in-progress adventures, I find if I had a choice of people to take on a trip with me (granted I could ditch him if need be), he would be a top choice.
However, as our original plan was to out-perform each other in areas where neither of us succeed, I will continue to wage the war.
This weekend I drove to Munich. What was meant to be a nice, scenic 8-hour drive through the rolling foothills of the Alps to Germany, turned into a 12-hour extravaganza. By the time we arrived at our hotel (of which only I was supposed to be staying), it was almost morning. So, after a short ninja mission sneaking each of my friends into my room, we all crashed on the same bed, squished as sardines, and eagerly awaited morning.
Oktoberfest! A writhing mass of humanity all gathered for one purpose. That purpose, you ask? To drink? NO!! To party? NO!! Bratwurst? NO!! Camaraderie! Thousands upon thousands of potential friends, all ready to be met and to make stories with. At 10 in the morning, I was in a tent, sitting with strangers and enjoying the most delicious beer. It tasted more like love. By 10:30, the tent was chanting, a smoky haze had descended, and I was deep in conversation with my new German friends. Soon, we were all standing on the tables chanting German verses and singing as loudly as we could.
After a few hours of intense mingling, and smuggling giant mugs out of the tent, my fellow travelers and I retired to the fairgrounds, a wonderful earth-bound heaven of souvenirs, lieder-hosen, bratwurst, and grilled chicken. Within hours, I managed to eat my own bodyweight in food. Soon after, we retired to our hotel, out of energy and full of life.
The next day was spent exploring Munich. I visited more churches, and even though I am pretty tired of churches at this point, the German churches were very interesting. Many had been almost completely destroyed by WWII, and inside the vestibules of these magnificent cathedrals were pictures depicting the before, after, and restored pictures of each church. I can only imagine how devastating the war was to Europe.
The church visits were followed by a stroll through the English Gardens of Munich, a massive park complex, full of kite-flyers, dog-lovers, and naked people. It was strange to see naked men walking around, butt after a while, they became just a strange piece of scenic backdrop. The 8-hour drive home once again took 12 hours, full of high spirits, tired bodies, and enough caffeine to fuel an army. The perfect end to a perfect weekend.
I’m realizing that it is difficult to write as the semester progresses. Even now, I think about when I’ll have the time, and I draw a blank. Today, I visit the zoo, tomorrow, Montmartre, this weekend, Belgium, next weekend, London, the week after, Austria and the Czech Republic. Sprinkle in my minimal schoolwork, my socializing with the local students, and my explorations of Paris, and I’m positive that I need an extra day or two a week just to fit everything in. I’ve never been moving so quickly, nor so firmly. Really, I wonder if my body and mind can take it.
I’m not complaining though.
*As mentioned in http://www.pishowish.blogspot.com/, this fact was proven by an undeniably accurate online IQ test. I scored almost 3 points higher (2, in fact) on the multiple choice section. If there had been a oral comprehension or picture matching segment, I'm positive that I might have scored a similar score to him as well.
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