Hamburgers and...what-have-you

I'm sure you've been staying up late at night wondering if I'm still alive and kicking. Don't y'all worry your pretty little heads. I have been keeping plenty busy, and it's only going to get better in the coming weeks. A few days ago I took a little adventure to Hamburg (actually known for their fish, not their burgers) with a friend. It was glorious. I successfully fooled a minimum of three people into thinking that I speak German, so that right there is already a success in my book. But I would say that the real highlight came from another incident in which I not only admitted to, but thanked my lucky stars for my lack of German.
So, my friend and I were just wandering, exploring and what-have-you, and stopped to look at the cute little river with the oh-so-presh buildings surrounding. Pause. There's something else you have to know about Hamburg. It has more rich people than hamburgers. They are seriously walking high-society billboards. Unpause. So there we were, and my friend was just saying how lovely the people there are, when all of a sudden we were approached by a dinosaur. She was smaller than me but she got right in my face and started German-ing to me. I tried to do a look back over my shoulder for some support, or at least a hint as to what she's saying and then she said, "Verstehest du kein Deutsch?" *rich, snappy, old lady voice* which I quickly confirmed. She tsk-ed a little then reached behind me and I realized that my purse was open. Thought running through my head: "Aaaaah! She's going to pickpocket me. Right in front of my face. That's bold. Ok. Keep your eyes on the goods." Instead she grabbed the back of my jacket (which, by the way is a super cute red trench coat, and I was totally rocking it). Next thought running through my mind: "OMGN DoI have toilet paper hanging from the bottom of my coat?! How did that get there? How long has it been there? How embarrassing!" But alas, wrong again. Instead she gestures wildly at the X-stitching which I accidentally left in the slit, and continues to instruct me in German. I nodded fiercely and she walked back to her friend who had been waiting and went on her merry way. All in a day's work for the class patrol. Job well done.
The questions were whirring around in my head.
1. How did she see that when I wasn't even moving?
2. How did she see that with here eyes being so old?
3. Why was she looking at my bum?
4. Is this kind of intervention commonplace or am I just that special/outlandish?
...just to name a few...

I'm not sayin'; I'm just sayin'.

Happy Pi Day! (rounding up...)

I don't even know where to begin. I have been ashamed of myself lately for my lack of holiday spirit, and yesterday was, unfortunately, no exception. In case you too missed the memo, it was Pi day. Why, you might ask, would this be such a significant holiday? Well first I should probably clarify what it even is. Since pi is 3.14... on March (3) 14 one is to eat pie in mass quantities. Obviously. Now. I don't particularly lust after pie very often, nor do I have the slightest affinity for mathematics of virtually any kind. However, who can be so much of a Scrooge as to deny such a naturally occurring celebration of... round things. At least that's what I like to use it for. The profound and personal nature of this special day dates far back into my childhood--well maybe when I was a teenagehood--and such fond memories cannot be simply tossed out with the spring cleaning. So thankfully, since I am a tad bit out of my element, I was reminded of the date yesterday and immediately vowed to correct my oversight (which I promptly forgot). I was, however, brought to a gross realization of the twisted nature of this country (I am sorry to say it). THEY REVERSE THE DATE! So yesterday was actually 14.3, and 3.14 does not, in fact, exist. Oh dear. I was really liking it here, but this one might take some time for me to adjust to. I simply do not understand how a people could be haters of sugary, filled, pastries--especially a people who eat so much bread. People of Germany, and the world, please acknowledge Pi day as the gift it is to those who are willing to take a moment to slow down and enjoy the simple and tasty things in life. And anything else you wish to include. That's how I do it.

I'm not sayin'; I'm just sayin'.

I'm just saying

Today I went on my usual city stroll. My ears were immediately greeted by the usual accordion man. It would seem much like any other day. But today I was hung up on something that had upset me. As I was lost deep in thought, somehow I was brought to reality by a man who pulled up near me on a bicycle. He stopped at a garbage bin, skillfully pulled out a flashlight and stick, dug for his treasure, and went on his way. Empty handed. I watched him ride off with a few scanty belongings in the basket on the back and a soiled and stained bag hanging off the handle bar. I was suddenly filled with disgust. It was toward myself and the fact that I had the nerve to be upset about anything in my life right now. And I kept walking. Of course to buy more clothes even though I have clean ones to wear every day. Do you know what the sickest part was? Not even an hour had passed before I found myself exploring beyond that same door that I had gotten lost behind before.

I'm just saying.

Confession. In English.

Oh dear. It's confession day. I have become one of "those people". So I was shopping (of course) and have been easing into using the dressing rooms (I was afraid they would be the supervised kind that I'd have to ask to be let into). So I was feeling pretty good about myself. I had successfully gone through three dressing room people. Basically I was feeling invincible. German? Piece of cake. Then I got to the cash register (which I had also worked up to and is normally not a problem) and a horrible thing happened. The woman said something to me other than the price and asking whether I want I receipt. I tried to stay calm and coolly say "Bitte?" as if I just didn't hear her the first time. But I still had no idea what she was asking me. Then, of all times that I needed it to, the "I'm just an American and am terrified of the fact that you're speaking German to me. Please speak English" look didn't work! I know, I know. I shouldn't have wanted her to speak English. Shame on me. But really. So I did what any immigrant would do: nod and say "ja". I'm pretty sure she asked if I had tried it on to make sure it was the right size. But whether that's right or not, she gave me the bag and I got the heck out of there. And here I am now- a yes-saying, head nodder.

Anyway, to continue with the evening, I went to a mall and as I ascended the escalator, I was greeted by two shirtless men in lifeguard shorts. Oh my. Then, that magic moment came. They said "Hey. What's up!" And in that magic moment I couldn't care less that they were half naked. They could be wearing nightgowns. But they were going to speak English to me! Re-shame on me. Then they handed me a flier for some event and proceeded in German to tell me to come. Then I remembered. The new Hollister had just opened. Or maybe it was about to open and that's what the fliers were for... hm... that would make more sense. Either way, I knew they worked for Hollister and actually remembered hearing that in the interview applicants had to say "welcome to the pier" apparently to judge the convincingness of their American accent. However, the most prominent thought in my mind was how ironic it is that they're trying to be American, however, I'm quite certain that employees cannot be half naked in the mall in the US. Posters: yes. Live people: no. No shirt, no shoes, no service? Anyone?

I'm not sayin'; I'm just sayin'.