Did I Seriously Just Come Home With Salami?

Why, yes, yes, I did and no, this is not some dirty euphemism related to my previous post!

I felt compelled. I cannot even explain it. I eat meat at home once in a very blue moon. Yet, in the supermarket today, I was overwhelmed by the endless sausage links, the wurst, the 600 kinds of pastramis and salamis and suddenly, I was transported to the family gatherings of my childhood in Wisconsin, listening to the adults chat while I constructed delightful little trios of cheddar, salami, and Ritz crackers.

And suddenly, I needed to have that (okay, I have no idea where/if I can find Ritz crackers in Berlin so I found a lame replacement but whatever...). When I got home, I ripped open the packages and immediately built a little plate of heaven. And as I leaned over the counter, savoring the goodness, I got to pretend that I was in Grandma Gertie's kitchen again, drinking cherry pop while Grandpa rolled dice and everyone screamed with laughter.

Now, if only my Uncle Tom were around to mix me up a Seven and Seven, the night would be complete.

Now These Are Some Smarty Pants Folks!

German efficiency was definitely passed down to my family so my sister sent me this article with a chuckle. God knows I love the Mediterranen countries but at a festival where one million gallons of beer are consumed in one week, I'm quite certain that no Italian would find their precious iPhone ever again.

Gotta love the German practicality amidst their biggest party of the year.

Pretty, Pretty Giants

Yesterday was Tag der Deutschen Einheit, or Day of German Unity, celebrating the reunification of east and west. Every year, this means a big party right by Brandenburg Gate, complete with lots of beer drinking and wurst eating. (Wait...didn't I leave Wisconsin?)

Since this year marks the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, it's a particularly big deal. For the past several weeks, my Berliner friends were telling me that I would need to see "the giants" once I arrived. What they were referring to were these two marionettes. For the past few days, streets in Berlin's center have been blocked off for the parade of these two giant puppets. One is a "little" girl and the other is her uncle. (No one has yet been able to explain why the uncle is a diver and the little girl is in a raincoat though. Hmm...) Anyway, I am told that they represent the east and the west and yesterday, the two met at Brandenburg Gate. A couple of friends and I went to check it out.

Unfortunately, it was sooooo packed that we only stayed to see the girl come by. To have then gone with the mob to the other side of the gate to watch their reunification probably would have resulted in full blown panic attack for me.

Regardless, I'm glad I checked her out. She was beautiful. So detailed. A huge crew had to pull her down the street, move her head from side to side, open and close her giant, dreamy eyelids. You can read more about it and see some video of it here.

Now today has been a day of rest. All of the weather changes seems to kicked up a little cold in me so I am sitting under a warm blanket, drinking plenty of tea. Berlin, I will have to check you out more a bit later but thanks for the lovely party.

A Small Town Girl in Yet Another Big City

Black Creek to Milwaukee to Madrid to Milwaukee to New York City to Berlin (and eventually back to New York).

So I guess that makes me a Midwesterner at heart who clings to her German heritage while searching for a little adventure every now and then. I decided to write about some of this wanderlust for the Shepherd Express, the beloved Milwaukee paper I used to read religiously over a piping hot cup of Alterra coffee. (Now, I read it online alongside a cup of my own crappy household coffee).

Oh, Milwaukee, even though I knew I had to move away, I do miss you, your coffee houses, and your wonderful people all so much! Just how much? About like THIS...

28 Minutes of Battery Life Remaining...

And my fingers are starting to go a little numb.

Okay, so first things first....today marks my two year anniversary of moving to NYC. Wait, but I'm in Berlin. Anyway...

Yes, Berlin!! Getting here was a breeze. Our flat is great. I am tickled about the Turkish place around the corner that I am patronizing at an alarming rate already.

But the not so great thing is that my internet connection went out within twelve hours of my arrival and now I am trying to find places to get a connection. I am currently sitting under the glass domed courtyard of the Sony Center at Potsdamer Platz. It is quite chilly. Boots, scarf, could really use some gloves. Yes, this feels like Wisconsin all right.

Okay, quick rundown of what I've done so far: tried to converse with about six different dudes at an electronic store while trying to find a European cable for my computer (umm, not so many people speak English here actually), had a beer with an Irishman last night and then walked by the Berliner Dom, a bunch of museums, as well as Humboldt University. Absolutely beautiful at night.

Today, I must do some practical things like buy groceries so I do not continue this diet of falafel sandwiches and muesli. Also, I am going to buy some stuff for the baby so that when they arrive, we are all set to go.

Ahh! Battery quickly dying. More later, I promise. God help me though if I end up at a ****ing Starbucks, lured by the warmness and the internet connection.

P.S. Speaking of anniversaries, happy anniversary, Amy and Scott!

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Good Night...

All right, folks. It's ON!

I've been popping the Vitamin C and now have a portable high chair squashed in my suitcase. I am going to fight this cold and apparently act like I have a baby.

Per the advice of Mr. Orthopedic Doctor Man, Jack's mom is going to have to forgo what could be a hellacious flight with baby, stay in NYC for a few more weeks, and do some major physical therapy. Jack and Mommy are now scheduled to arrive in Berlin on October 14th. In the meantime, I am bringing some of their stuff along with me. Of course, I feel terrible about the circumstances and I am totally bummed that Jack's mom (who has become a good friend of mine) has to delay everything but...

People...out of nowhere, for the first time in ages, I have been given the opportunity to sit on my ass for two weeks. Like a real VACATION?? I get to write in cafes while munching on delicious cakes, have beers and interesting conversations with new friends, and maybe even fly down to visit my old host family and dance til dawn in Madrid. Weeeeeee!

A surprise vacation. Who knew?

So I continue to pack and repack and find other things I need to do before 7pm tomorrow night. In the midst of these practical things, I'm heading into that surreal mode...do you know what I'm talking about? It's always a strange feeling to know that in less than 24 hours, your whole world is going to completely change. An unfamiliar language, strange foods, a new culture of behaviors and communication. And all of your senses become highly tuned into your surroundings as you try to maneuver yourself as smoothly as possible, hoping that your disposition does not scream, "I'M A FOREIGNER AND DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING! TAKE ADVANTAGE OF ME NOW!"

But luckily for me, excitement always trumps stress. I become giddy, thinking about all of the new places I will explore, people I will meet. And then,once I get there, the really dangerous part kicks in...I fall in love with the city. I want to stay longer and absorb it. (Hello, Madrid and New York!)

But I am getting ahead of myself. I first have to focus on getting a good night's sleep, doing my laundry first thing in the morning, finish packing this monster suitcase, and then getting through nine hours of flying (with or without the aid of Benadryl).

You may not hear from me for a few days. Assume that I am in the midst of trying to figure out an internet connection and where to buy nutella.

Wish me luck. Gute nacht.

Move Over, Marlene!

Recently during a friend's visit, we wandered into a resale shop and almost peed ourselves laughing, trying on crazy sunglasses, lime green boas, and fabulous vintage hats. She fell in love with a kick ass brown fedora while I couldn't make up my mind over the adorable find in my hands. It was a fuzzy, black and silver striped, 1930s style winter hat, complete with a rhinestone brooch on the side. And it fit me perfectly.

But being the ridiculously practical girl I am, I put it down. Do I really need this hat? I asked myself and left. An hour later though, this sneaky special agent friend of mine whipped the hat out of her bag and said, "For letting me stay at your place!"

Oh, she's such a sweetie!

So fast forward to today. I'm running errands like a madwoman and make a stop at my favorite neighborhood tailor/dry cleaner's. My tailor is a sweet man from Jerusalem who speaks in a heavy accent and never charges me as much as he should, considering the excellent work he does. We always have a nice chat although he generally scolds me about how I cannot possibly be eating enough. (He has no idea what I pack away).

But today, there was little time for chatting. I was just there to pick up my freshly dry cleaned hat. After he handed it over to me, I tore open the plastic and squealed, "Isn't this the most perfect hat for Germany?"

In my pre-Berlin giddiness, I said, "Wait...you gotta see this thing on. It's so cute!" and proceeded to make this 60-something-year-old man humor me. He nodded and smiled politely as I fumbled with it but once I placed it on my head, his eyes widened.

"Rachelle!" he exclaimed (I love that he calls me this), pointing at his mirror. "You must look at yourself!"

I was pleased with my reflection (despite the accompanying jeans/hoodie/PF Flyer ensemble). It's an attractive hat and works well with my bob. Very pre-World War II movie star. Perhaps I'm channeling Marlene Dietrich? She was, after all, born and raised in the very hood I'm heading to in 48 hours.

"Well, if you don't have a boyfriend already, I think you find one in Germany, yes?"

Like I said...the best tailor in the neighborhood.