I'm so not cool.

The other day, I overheard some Germans talking about the general uncoolness of bloggers and big sunglasses.

Germans: "What's with those people who write their lives on the internet? Nobody cares."

Me: "..."

Guess I'm officially the German definition of laaame.

But that does lead me to the question: why do I blog? Nobody does care. But there is something deeply satisfying, for me, about pressing computer keys and writing and seeing it all on a lovely webpage, looking professional and nice, though it's really not. I also happen to know that friends and family who I do not have much contact with are able to read my blog and know that I am continuing to function, and this is somehow comforting. Sometimes I feel that, by keeping up a blog, I am staying connected to people who have meant a lot to me in my life.

So I must genuinely conclude that, despite being lame by non-blogging standards, I do not find my blog so strange and pointless. Well, sometimes.

In other news, Christmas was lovely, complete with an adorable meal of raclette. What is adorable about melted cheese over vegetables/meat/potatoes? It's all in the prep work. Here in Germany, it is fairly common to have a raclette grill, which is a table-top George Forman-style contraption that comes with cute, tiny square pans shaped perfectly for cheese slices and small pieces of vegetable. Half of the fun in this meal is thinking of good flavor combinations and assembling all the ingredients in the tiny pans. Also, what doesn't taste good with melted cheese all over it? One of the aspects of food that Germans really know about is cheese--I don't think I've had bad cheese since I've been here. Even the cheese at Subway is a cut (or several) above the crap we have in America.

Speaking of America, I never thought of myself as a "gluttonous American." But now I realize that, without my own knowledge, I have been imbibed with the American need for things to be big. I mean, ok, not cars or streets or orders of French fries. Specifically, drinks. And even more specifically, coffee. I have noticed in myself a tendency toward annoyance when paying 2 Euro for a small cup of coffee and receiving 6 oz. of joe brewed in a Nescafé machine. I mean, for the same price in the New World, I can get a 12 oz. latte made by a person using locally roasted beans. Blah blah blah, I sound like a damn coffee snob. Hell, I am a damn coffee snob. But when I want a cup of coffee, I want a cup of coffee. Deshalb, I am now drinking coffee almost exclusively at home, where I can drink two cups kostenlos. Sometimes I miss the latté ritual, though.

Last night, I made the most perfect massaman curry! I've found this great Chinese grocery store in Düsseldorf called Ho's, and they have the dangerously hot kind of chilis, sweet potatoes, those little round green eggplants, FRESH TOFU (holy crap, I was tempted) and sweet Thai basil. Of course, they have much more than that, but those are just samplings of the supplies necessary for Asian cooking they provide. Anyway, yesterday I decided that I was in the mood for curry--I'd bought massaman curry paste a few months ago, and hadn't even opened it yet. So I headed out to Ho's and picked up some supplies I was lacking: tofu (packaged, but still locally made), sweet basil, Thai jasmine rice, ginger, a purple-skinned sweet potato,  package of about 30 chilies, tiny onions (this is a little embarrassing, but I thought they were shallots because I grabbed them really quickly without looking as I was getting into the insanely long line behind three guys buying 50 Euros worth of bok choy). All of it only cost me around 8 Euros--a total steal!

Got home, cooked, and loved it. This is really the first time I've eaten home-made Thai curry since I left the U.S., and it was sooo unbelievably comforting. Here's a recipe (sort of), if anyone cares:

1 nice knob of fresh ginger, peeled

8 or 9 tiny red onions (or use three shallots, like I wanted to do)

3 Tablespoons curry paste (doesn't have to be massaman, as this isn't really authentic massaman curry, anyway)

1 Tablespoon brown sugar

1 cup coconut milk (or more--personal preference thing)

A little water (you might need it to thin the curry out at some point)

Salt (if you add water, you will probably need to add a bit of salt)

Any/all veggies that you want (I used a couple small carrots, a small-ish sweet potato, broccoli, corn, red bell pepper)

Your choice of protein (I chose tofu)

2 really fucking spicy tiny green Thai chilies, seeds removed (unless you are one of those people who wants to sweat and tear up while they're eating, in which case I recommend leaving the seeds in and possibly adding a third or fourth pepper). I like spicy, but my tongue isn't that numbed yet. And seriously, I had never cooked with these before, so I touched the very tip of my tongue to the pith, and it actually went numb. And then burned.

With a little oil, sautee the onions, chilies and ginger with one tablespoon curry paste and a little salt. After the onions are suitably cooked down, add two more tablespoons paste, breaking it up and stirring around. Immediately add coconut milk, and some water if you want. Simmer. Add ingredients like carrots and sweet potato that take a long time to cook through. Let simmer. Slowly add all of the other veggies, in the order of how long it takes them to cook. Basically, everything just needs to cook all the way through in the simmering curry sauce. When everything is the softness you prefer, the curry is done. I'm not the most organized cooker--I just kind of taste and add a little salt here, a dash more coconut milk there, a splash of water to even things out. So this recipe is more of an illustration of what I did yesterday evening than anything someone could use. But curry is so subjective anyway--everyone likes to make it a different way, with different add-ins and portions of the basics.

I'll definitely be making this again soon. It's not very much work, it tastes great, and it can be stretched to feed many people, or one person many nights in a row. It's also relatively cheap (especially if using Tofu rather than meat). And can I just rave for a couple seconds about this tofu I bought? Though I was tempted by the fresh tofu in plastic bags, it seemed a little more sensible to take a package on the train. But this tofu is so much more fresh and flavorful than what I'm used to buying in the U.S. Its taste is creamy (almost buttery) and subtle but somehow light at the same time. My God, it is good, especially in this curry.

Ok, another boring food post is almost over. Tomorrow is Heilige Abend, the day here in Germany when most people do the presents thing. This is weird to me, as Christmas Eve in America was always the day to sit inside and wrap all of the presents that I had waited until the last minute to buy. Where's the extra day of procrastination here?! I wrapped my last gift today, and I just felt so...early.

Toast, anyone?

You know you really need to clean out the archives of your computer when you start finding pictures like this squirreled away in its cyber-nooks and crannies. I don't even know what this is. I certainly didn't take it. I hope their toast came out alright...

Speaking of fire (I wasn't really, but there's fire in the picture above), it's really beautiful here when night falls, because everyone lights little candles or those big, elaborate paper stars in their windows now that Christmas is approaching. Everyone's windows twinkle welcomingly and it feels almost as if they're lighting a path just for me.

Other things I love about winter here are the warm, good smells wafting in the air--cloves, wine, grilled sausages.

Disclaimer:

My ability to coherently write is suddenly going down the tubes.

I have no idea if this is because of the German, or just because I've actually been writing so much lately that my brain has become overloaded.

From The Archives

Just today, I found this old thing that I wrote when I was around ten years old. I think it's interesting; there are so many buds of ideas expressed, not really fully developed, but relevant to my young mind nevertheless. I find it funny, my experimentation with punctuation. I am fairly sure I had just figured out that one can use the word 'yet' in writing. But the last couple sentences kill me, because I can vividly remember being a little kid, and feeling exactly the way I described. That doesn't really happen to me anymore, and I wonder if, as one gets older, it's easier to accept the idea of an imperfect, unpolished life in a real world. I never realized, year to year as I grew up, how much I changed. But when I go back and read these strange, disjointed passages I can't even remember writing, I know that I have. Hopefully for the better.

The meaning of life

by me

The meaning of life is to live, whether you choose to be mean to other people, or whether you choose to be nice. The meaning of life is different to all people, just as all people are different. All living creatures should be aware of themselves, though. We all have our place in nature, and nature does us a favor, by giving us the land we live on, the food we eat, and also giving air to us. Many people take this for granted, and build factories out where people could be enjoying the subtleness of the world around us. These factories make the air smoggy and bad smelling, and are not good for the nature around them. In other words, these factories are not doing us a big favor. Whoever the corporation is who paid for them to be built is not caring for their country's environment. The meaning of life is to some people, comic. Life, to some people, just goes on and on, nothing really happening. Then you die, and you are no longer able to do anything, and that is the end of that. Other people find life to be an adventure, something new around every corner, whether it be beautiful, horrible, amazing, sad. Some people feel that life is just like a ride at the fair grounds. It loops, and turns, and goes quickly, or smoothly, or bumpy. You might, at times, wish it would stop, at times, wish it would never end. A lot of people don't really think about dying. They just cherish life for all it's worth, and make the most of it, until the end. Some people believe that a part of you lives after death, a part of your conscience, now, part of the universe, part of every person and animal on Earth's life. The meaning of life can be life itself. I often wake up, and don't really see my life in a literal way. It's like I'm looking through a mirror, and I can see everything in my life, yet, I don't really feel as if it's my own. I am, however, aware that this life is mine, and when I stop to think about it, reality hits. It feels as though I'm going down in an elevator, but I'm not standing on my legs. My whole body feels alien to me, and there I am, me, in a real world, in a real life. And it's scary.

There is nothing on a cold, late-autumn day like a hot, bittersweet cup of Kakao.

Woah...

I don't usually post two in one day, but I just realized that "Joe Pastry" says to chill the cookie dough another forty-five minutes after having put it on the baking sheets. I definitely did not do that, and they still turned out amazing. How much more amazing would they be if I had?

Too good to be true.

I'm sorry, National Blog Posting Month. I really did want it to work. But I just felt weird about posting every day. There would be a month's worth of posts here with little or no meaning/substance, simply because I felt pressured to write them.

And that would simply not do.

I will have a manual camera again by 10 AM tomorrow! I am so excited to get my hands on a roll of black and white film.

I Have Finally Achieved Greatness (Chocolate Chip Saga, Pt. IV)

And by greatness, I mean that I have baked the perfect chocolate chip cookies.

That other post, from way back when, where I claimed to have created a definitively good recipe?

Not even close.

No, this batch that I made on Friday for a birthday get-together on Saturday was perfection. The texture, the flavor, the chocolate to cookie ratio--it was all as I remembered from my past. It was all that I could have hoped for. I am on cloud nine. And I must give props to this guy, a great blogger whose chocolate chip cookie post completely enlightened me as to the nature of cookie-baking and the question of texture. I took the original Wakefield recipe he posted and combined it with my old recipe to see what would happen. All I can say is, it was a damn lucky guess.

So, without further ado, I give you my new and improved recipe:

2 1/2 cups flour

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. salt

1 3/4 sticks butter

1/2 cup white sugar

1 cup brown sugar (shipped from America, yeah!)

2 eggs

1 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract (also shipped from America)

most of a bag of bittersweet chocolate chips (yes, I also had someone send me these from the U.S.)

Mix dry ingredients (flour, salt, baking soda) together in one bowl. In another, cream butter and sugars until light and fluffy. Add the eggs and the vanilla and beat until well-incorporated and fluffier, if that's possible. Stir in the chocolate chips.

Now comes the important part: take the batter, and STICK IT IN THE FRIDGE for AT LEAST ONE HOUR. You can also stick it in the freezer for a little bit to speed up the process.

When you have yourself a big bowl of cold batter, take it out of the fridge, take a tablespoon, and start spooning out cookie-sized portions. Roll each portion into a ball (work quickly, though, so the batter doesn't get too warm), and place on an ungreased cookie sheet, or on a cookie sheet covered in parchment paper (this is actually what I did--really reduces mess and cleaning time). You can also use an ice-cream scoop.

Bake for 9-11 minutes (or until beginning to turn golden brown) at 365˚F or (190˚C).

They're so good. Seriously.

Photography+Dinner Plans

I started my photography class today. It was great! Despite the fact that my camera is AWOL somewhere out there in air-mail land, I was able to use someone else's (he has two) for the photo-shooting segment. It was interesting to use a D-SLR for the first time, and I got really into it. There is something very peaceful about the repetitive shooting of photos, and I just kept taking one after the other, barely noticing the ISO and the F-Stop (although that could also be because I'm really inexperienced with D-SLRs). One of the women in the class commented, "You're so quiet when you take pictures." I was definitely 'in the zone'--no pun intended (lame photography joke to anybody who's ever heard of this).

But besides feeling great because I had a real camera with an SLR lens back in my hands, I was also shocked, because the teacher--a published, freelance photographer--looked at some of the quick snapshots I'd taken in the class, and seemed really impressed. He exclaimed several times over strangely blurry photos (I couldn't figure out how to work the focus. I'm old-school!), and said he liked my composition. Then he asked me to bring in some samples of my older work for next week. Needless to say, I was pretty excited. I'm also quite pleased that everyone in my class is very friendly and encouraging, despite my halting German and my need to sometimes have things clarified in English. In fact, I didn't ask anyone to clarify in English--a few nice people offered to do this for me, if I needed it, themselves. Everyone is enthusiastic and ready to take pictures. Yet another example that, if one looks hard enough, one can find small remnants of "home" anywhere.

The second part of this post's title has to do with the dinner I am planning on making myself either tomorrow or Thursday. Spinach miso soup (from miso packages purchased at a Japanese grocery store in Düsseldorf), with the remains of the spicy tofu from last weekend thrown in. I might fry some onions for it, as well. We'll see.

Alles gute...

Today was my birthday. I was given four cakes, three of which were homemade. I was congratulated and hugged and sung to. I feel very welcomed, and I am surprised by how effusive so many people were in their well-wishes. I'm too tired to write more now, but I'll just say that my birthday, while different, was still a very good day. 

I didn't end up eating my Chinese leftovers, because after a day full of trying cake, a good salad seemed to be in order.

One Year!

This is my official one year post on Toast and Jam! Though this blog is but a humble effort at electronically keeping a public journal, I feel rather proud that I've followed through with it for an entire year. Once again, I'm facing a birthday--as people tend to do each year--but this this year, it's very different. I'm living in Germany, and I am away from all of the usual people I celebrate with. Yet, I still have that twinge of excitement somewhere inside of me, that hopeful anticipation for another productive year. This last one has been a whirlwind, and though it had its up and downs, I can confidently say that, qualitatively, it has been a very good one. I'd like to thank my family and friends who read this for making it so. I love and/or miss you all.

I'm also announcing my participation in NaBloPoMo. Yep, National Blog Posting Month. I will be posting something every day. Maybe not amazing things, but tidbits to get myself in the habit of writing again (not that I've lapsed out of the habit, but this can only sharpen my skills--or so I like to think). 

Last but not least, I'm pleased to say I've found good Chinese food in Düsseldorf. They serve platters that are like, 20% meat and 80% hot chilies, but they wouldn't make it spicy enough for me. The next time I go back (and believe me, there will be a next time), I'm going to have to say that I want it really hot. Insanely hot. I'm going to insist. They gave my friend and me the total white people treatment, even though my friend is half-Taiwanese and told them to make it hot in Mandarin. It must have been our English-speaking that really turned them against us. But I'm not going to give up. Anyway, we ended up ordering tofu in chili sauce (hot, but not hot enough--kind of a thick sauce, studded with fresh red chilies, not super-impressive) and eggplant in a spicy garlic sauce (not spicy at all, but a lot of garlic and really oily in that way that Chinese food sometimes is when it's supposed to be oily). I really wish I spoke Chinese, though, because they have the special only-in-Chinese menu for the Chinese customers. But even the German menu is pretty good, with some interesting sounding dishes. They also have Hot Pot!

Tomorrow, I will treat myself to a couple new movies from the library, as it is my birthday and all. I may even have my Chinese leftovers for dinner after my German-language night class. Tomorrow promises to be unlike any other birthday I've ever had, and really, what more could I ask for?

Failed Banana Bread

My bright ideas for baking in a new country have not been going well. The other day, for example, I baked banana bread. It was the same recipe I always use at home--same proportions, same ingredients, same everything. And yet, it came out of the oven a strange, sodden lump, which in no way resembled (in looks or taste) any banana bread I have ever made. I ate one piece, and didn't want to eat any more. Thankfully, it's gone to a better place (hint: a German waste facility), but I was so ashamed of myself for it. Really. This may sound a bit self-important, but I have always prided myself on being a decent baker. I bake things, and they usually get completely eaten up by everyone I know. And suddenly, I move to a new place with a different kitchen and flour that is quite possibly milled differently, and POW--everything I bake is a freak version of its former, perfectly delicious self.

Honestly, I'm afraid to bake here. I'm cursed. I'm the Auslander, and I cannot be privy to the secrets of a German kitchen. Only the Germans know how to coax their high-powered ovens and strangely named baking powder into doing their jobs correctly. Perhaps my German isn't good enough yet. Or maybe, I just have to swear a little at the ingredients, auf Deutsch, and the little bastards will cooperate. All I know is that I feel like something's missing without my baking ability. I feel like something has been stolen from me.

I hope I can get it back.

Das Leben der Anderen

Great movie. Great movie.

Watched auf Deutsch, mit keine Untertitel. Which, I think, was the right way to go.

If those of you who follow this blog have not seen this movie yet, get on that ASAP. It's called 'The Lives of Others' in English, and you can rent it pretty much anywhere. You won't be disappointed. Beautiful camera work, well-written script, nuanced plot, and amazing performances. I don't think I've seen a movie this intensely emotional, and yet completely real, in a long time.

A movie...

The other night, I watched 'Before Sunrise'. I thought it was really quite good. There's an amusing story that goes along with it, though. I put the DVD in and made sure to go to the menu and change the language from German to English (yes, I do watch movies in German as well, but I can't stand the bad dubbing). I then proceeded to watching, and yet, as soon as the dialogue started, it was German. So I went back to the menu and selected 'English' again. The dialogue was still in German. I think at that point I may have grumbled some choice words, before realizing that the people speaking German had mouths that were moving at the same rate as the words coming out.

Ergo, they were actually speaking German, as recorded in the movie.

Yes, it turns out that the first few minutes of 'Before Sunrise' are actually supposed to be in German. In fact, the entire film takes place in Austria. Way to read the back of the DVD before watching.

What I really loved about this movie was how, at certain parts, I would laugh because something was so European, or so German (well, Austrian, really). I felt like it was mirroring my experience of moving through Europe in this kind of experimental, self-discovering way--minus the whole love story thing. I know that if I watch it again when I'm back in the U.S., it will make me feel nostalgic and misty for this time in my life.

Plus, I got to feel superior to Ethan Hawke's character, because I could understand what the Austrians were saying and he had to look like a clueless American because he couldn't.

A Thought About Home.

I think that, although my current home is here in Germany, the home I will be returning to next summer will still be my home. My city still has my heart and soul, and I can't just divorce myself from that deep connection of knowing where I truly come from. This post makes me sound homesick, and I'm not, really--I just know now, in my heart, that home can never really be replaced. It can be added to, built upon, but for me there will always be a connection to my town in America. It still feels like my place, and I know that when I come back, it will be waiting for me and I will feel comfortable there. I will be coming home.

I don't think I realized that before, but now that I do, it's so very comforting.

Chocolate Chip Saga--Pt. III (A Photo Narrative)

There aren't really chocolate chips here in Germany, so this is what we did instead:

 

Yoga

I'm starting yoga today! I'm quite excited. I think I'm going to take Hatha and Power Yoga. It's raining, and despite my lazy urge to hibernate and drink too much tea, I'm going to get active. I've been having some bothersome aches and pains as of late, and I think stretching and breathing exercises will really help. I also need a stress outlet that isn't furiously writing and filling out forms.

Defending Myself...

Everyone around me, it seems, is suddenly coming down with some sort of cough/head cold/sore throat. It's been a couple weeks, and I still show no signs of sickness. I attribute this to my high consumption of Vitamin C (in the form of Multivitamin Saft), coffee, and a killer immune system.

But I am still nervous. I hate getting sick, and I'm hoping to get through the next nine months here with minimal damage. Bring on the Vitamin C, tea and fruit! And, of course, a lot of hand-washing.

Noteworthy: I got my hair cut yesterday, and managed to convey to the Friseur(in?) in a clumsy mix of Deutsch and English exactly what I wanted her to do with my hair. She was a total pro, and the whole cut only cost me eighteen Euro...unglaublich!

mmmm.

Just thought I'd share.

Election Update: German Style!

Angie, as they call her here, is once again Chancellor. The CDU got the majority vote, and the SPD fared worse than most expected.

I was surprised by how quickly the results were in, but that and the absence of election parties seem to be major differences between American elections and German ones.

A First.

In the oven, as I type this, is the first banana bread loaf I have baked in Germany. This is monumental for me, because banana bread loaves are just...home to me. I baked them in my old kitchen, and the act, here in my new German kitchen, was inexplicably comforting. It's good to feel like I have a home again.

Speaking of home, I realize I haven't update the blog in a while. A lot's been going on, and it mostly has to do with my process of settling in. I've memorized bus lines, street names, stores and cafés. I've made some German friends. And best of all, I now have a library card. Last week, I checked out four books, one of which (an Agatha Christie, of all things) I'm almost done with. I've also been checking out a few movies every week, my one rule being that I can't have seen them before. Last week, I watched Farenheit 9/11--finally, it's been on my list for years--and a Hitchcock (Rope). I was surprised by Farenheit 9/11, because it was so damn tame. I mean, I was expecting the ballsy, assholic Michael Moore of Bowling For Columbine or Sicko. You know, the one people complain about so much. The one who, truthfully, I find hilarious. But this Michael Moore was staid (well, for Michael Moore, anyway) and really stuck to the facts. There was significantly less wild conjecturing than is the norm for his movies. I really liked this one, actually, though I wish there had been a little more meat to it. It felt too weak, too much like a carefully crafted facade. A liberal facade, mind you, but a facade nonetheless. Perhaps my perspective is different because I watched it during the Obamazeit, with renewed hope that the war will end. But I just couldn't help feeling like it needed to be a little more hard-hitting. The scenes with the mother who lost her son were very good--probably the best in the whole thing. At times, I wished the whole movie was about her.

The Hitchcock was weird. Rope was the first movie Hitchcock used Jimmy Stewart in. It's based on a stage play, which became apparent as I watched it. The whole thing takes place in one room, with a tiny cast of characters. It's a macabre concept: two guys murder their friend, just to see if they can do it. Then they put him in a trunk, invite over his parents and fiancee for a party, and serve the food on the trunk. One of the murderers is a creepy sociopath, and the other is a confused and scared lackey who has an unfortunate affinity for strangling chickens. Jimmy Stewart plays their one-time schoolmaster, who attends the party and figures out the crime. I actually found the plot and the darkly ironic situation deliciously weird, but the execution of the whole thing on film was awkward. The two murderers were terrible actors, and Jimmy went way too quickly from a cool, collected, wisecracking intellectual to a sanctimonious preacher of good moral values. As usual for a Hitchcock flick, however, the camera work was great and there were some fantastic side performances. Rear Window, The Lady Vanishes and Vertigo still remain my favorites.

This week, my cinematic adventures continue with The Squid And The Whale and a German film that I heard was good, Keinohrhasen. It looks like a RomCom to me, which is perfectly fine after sociopaths, Michael Moore, and depressing, artsy family drama.

As for other news...I've discovered that Düsseldorf has a very large Asian immigrant population, so Asian food (Thai, Laotian, Korean, Japanese) is in my future. Frankly, I'm thrilled, but I fear the curse of not enough hot chilis (Germans, for the most part, hate spicy food). I'm figuring out Calculus in German (no easy feat) and generally trying to stay positive. Last weekend, someone stole my favorite hat, so I immediately had to get online and buy two that are more or less exactly like it. They're on their way, and I could not be happier--my ears have been a bit cold this week.

The election here is coming up, and I'm curious to see if Merkel will be dethroned by the portly, allegedly "STARK!" F.W. Steinmeier. Personally, I don't find it as scintillating as election season in America (where are the debate parties, during which everyone swears at the t.v. and occasionally even throws marshmallows?), but then, I guess Americans tend to go a bit overboard on 'historical moments.'

Well, the tome has been written for September. More to come later, if I can get motivated enough. Like, for example, how the banana bread recipe that I converted myself into grams turned out.

Plant fat?

For those of you I've talked to about this, more research has informed me that:

Plant fat=not hydrogenated! Which is good, because a lot of stuff here has that ingredient.

Everything that is hydrogenated says: "gehärtet pflanzliches fett." (Hardened plant fat, literally.) This I will avoid.

Also related: Holy crap. OREOS NO LONGER CONTAIN TRANS FATS!

That's all for now. Just a quick note.

Wonderful discoveries.

A four-hour walk around Düsseldorf yielded some wonderful discoveries.

1. Durian's Thai Restaurant. There were "Best of the City"-type stickers all over the front door, the windows were cluttered with beautiful plants and little lights...I can't wait to try it!

2. Der Kleiner Italianer, a ready-made sandwich at Bäckerei Terbuyken that is basically a crunchy brötchen with butter (because every sandwich has butter here, not mayonnaise), basil, arugula, tomato, mozarella and pesto. Mmm.

3. A sushi shop with affordable sushi and actual Japanese people making it.

4. Landliebe Schoko Milch, which is even better than Schoko Müller Milch (and worth the extra money).

5. Two cute art-supply stores.

6. Trendy, affordable hair salons.

7. ICED CHAI. ICED. In Germany, coffee is not iced. It's just not. So the fact that there's iced anything...wünderbar!

8. A Chinese restaurant that serves spicy pig rectum and dan dan noodles (the pig rectum is how I know it's authentic--not something I actually plan on eating). The menu is also in Chinese, and there's awful, flowery wallpaper--good signs.

9. A store that sells moccasins.

10. Nightclubs with indie music. Honestly, I'm ready for a club that plays something other than "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga.

Fun at the disco?

Waiting in line for the bathroom at the disco, I noticed three girls pounding on the door of one of the stalls, and periodically feeding wads of paper towels in through the crack. It was then that I heard the retching noises and the hacking that can only accompany a bout of alcohol-induced vomiting.

When the girl finally emerged from the bathroom stall, her friends asked her why she was throwing up.

"Zuviel Vodka," she replied with a wicked grin. Then she washed her hands and walked out of the bathroom, ready  to do it all again. 

I feel bad for her liver.

foodstuffs, German-style

Allow me to take even more time off from making this blog intelligent, interesting and/or insightful to say:

Schoko-Müsli, I love you.

I now eat this every morning. I don't want to know what all goes into it--I just want to keep eating it for as long as I am able to chew breakfast cereal.

In other news, I had my first döner the other night. Extremely delicious. It's unlike any Middle Eastern food I've ever had, and really wasn't how I was expecting. Anyway, I look forward to more in the future.

oh good

It's raining really hard here.

I'm so happy!

List post, because I'm too lazy.

Myths about Germany: true or not?

Some myths about Germany debunked:

1. Germans do not only eat sausage and potatoes. They eat pasta, salad, fruit, etc. I have not had a potato yet (though it is only my second day).

2. Germans do not leave their milk/water/beer out of the fridge. All drinks go in the fridge, except for unopened mineral wasser. Everything is cold. I don't know why, but for some reason, people I talked to in America were convinced that Germans drink warm beer/warm water/warm everything.

3. Germans do laundry.

4. There is internet. Unlimited internet. It is cheaper than in the U.S., because it includes phone service. It's kind of slow.

5. People in Germany are blunt and this makes them seem rude. Wow! This is what I was told. Maybe I haven't been around enough Germans yet, but every German I've met is completely normal and/or friendly. Maybe I come from a place where people are unusually blunt. I don't know. In my limited experience, however, Germans are hospitable and easy to get along with. It is common here for people to laugh at each other, which we wouldn't really do in America. For example--if there's a crazy person talking to him/herself on the street, people laugh. If someone trips and falls, people laugh. If you respond very enthusiastically to something, people laugh. But weirdly enough, it doesn't feel unkind to me. It's just a different kind of humor and perspective than we have in the U.S.

6. Germans don't use napkins at meals!

7. People bathe! You wouldn't believe how many people told me Germans don't bathe often. In my experience, they bathe more often than Americans, and brush their teeth more, too.

8.  There is maple syrup here. But Germans don't eat pancakes (and I haven't yet seen a waffle), so I'm not sure what they do with it.

Some myths about Germany that turned out to be entirely true:

1. People here love chocolate and dairy products (especially Eis!).

2. Almost everyone smokes. Smoking is allowed in every public place, and the inside of most buildings smells like cigarettes. Also, teenagers are allowed to smoke in school.

3. Pretzels are prevalent. They are soooo good. I bought one as soon as I got here. They are lightyears better than American hard pretzels, and definitely better than American soft pretzels. Inside, they are buttery and delicious, and on the outside, they are dark brown and covered with kosher salt.

4. Nobody drinks tap water/water that isn't sparkling. I'm in heaven, since I prefer sparkling wasser to plain, anyway.

5. Forks and knives are placed on plates differently. I can't really explain.

6. Germans LOVE Obama! As soon as I made my preference for Obama known, I was immediately met with smiles and "yes we can!"s. (Please ignore grammatical incorrectness there.)

7. To buy products, you do have to go to several different stores (stores usually specialize in one particular area). Sometimes a supermarket has a shoe store or purses, but for the most part, shopping takes half a day because of all the stores one must drive to.

8. Fußball=national pastime. Everyone seemed surprised that I don't have a favorite team to champion.

And now, some observations:

1. Germans love American pop from the 80's: Cindi Lauper, Sting, Depeche Mode, Bon Jovi (ugh!), and especially Michael Jackson...it's played on the radio all the time here. I can't say I miss the terrible American neo-Country genre, though.

2. Germany has the best soft drinks ever. My favorites are Lift Apfel-Schorle (sparkling apple juice, which is not as sweet as it is in America) and Mezzo Mix, which is basically coke with orange essence. It sounds weird, but it's very good. All soft drinks have real sugar, not corn syrup.

3. A lot of people ride bikes here, but cruisers, not mountain or road bikes.

4. The streets are quite clean, but the poor street trees have cigarette butts littered all around them in the dirt.

5. Public transportation is extremely efficient. The buses come every ten minutes.

6. People seem really happy and content here.

7. There are not many black/African or South Asian people, but a lot of Turks. White Germans are blatantly racist about Turkish immigrants (or Germans of Turkish descent, for that matter). This makes me pretty uncomfortable, because where I come from, people at least pretend to be more tolerant. Also, have any Germans ever met a Jew? Not the ones I know. I don't even tell them I'm Jewish because I've heard some pretty stereotypical things come out of their mouths about non-Christians. Oof.

8. There are no SUVs! Hallelujah! People actually drive fuel efficient cars!

D.C.

I'm in the capital of the United States at the moment, "bonding" with other, extremely friendly people who won the same scholarship as I did. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment--tired, invigorated, grateful, apprehensive...all over the place. Right now, there's not much to report--I've eaten mediocre airport food, pretty bad chain restaurant food, explored a bit. Definitely not up to my usual standards, but the meals are paid for. A group of us is planning to get Thai food, and rebel against the regimented diet of pizza and french fries we have been relegated to.

Tomorrow, we'll be visiting the D.C. museums, memorials and other enriching activities. More later.

Update to end all updates (I think)!

I haven't written in a while, and the midwest/east coast trip is progressing rapidly. Basically, I'm in New York right now, staying in a cheap-ish hotel. What has happened since my last post:

1. On my second day in St. Paul, I made the discovery f University Avenue, a big, ugly street that houses the local Asian population. There are Hmong restaurants, video-rental shops, delis, groceries, etc. There are also Thai, Cambodian and Vietnamese businesses. One of my favorite lunch items that I frequently buy at home is Banh Mi--Vietnamese sandwiches made with some kind of meat (usually grilled/barbecued), pickled veggies, cilantro, jalapeños, aioli and soy/fish sauce on Vietnamese french bread. I decided to see if I could find these tasty sandwiches on University. Lo and behold, after about five minutes of driving, I noticed a small Vietnamese market, situated in what looked like an old movie theater, advertising "sandwiches." In the very back of the store, past cans of what appeared to be Chinese Spam, was a deli counter, where two women and a man were dutifully churning out the biggest, most delicious looking Banh Mi I'd ever seen. Barbecued meat hung tantalizingly behind glass. I noticed that, on many of the sandwiches, the women were putting on a kind of bologna-like lunch meat that is used often in Vietnamese dishes. When asked if they would put barbecued pork in the sandwich instead, one woman behind the counter replied that it would be extra--bringing the sandwich to $3.50, rather than $2.75! This was fine with me. The woman proceeded to pour on three different kinds of sauce--soy, and a few others that I'm not sure about (one may have been fish). There were plenty of delicious pickled veggies, the pork was amazingly good (so much better than any meat I've had on Banh Mi before) and the bread was thick enough to not get soggy and retain its crunch. For my money, this is the best Vietnamese sandwich I've had anywhere. I enjoyed it with a cool can of sweet soy milk while sitting in the sculpture garden across from the Walker Art Center. (Later I went into the Art Center, and reappeared again with a Moleskine sketchbook and a collapsable Japanese sandwich box, courtesy of the gift shop!) That night, I went after a quick dinner to try Izzy's Ice Cream, a local, all-natural (sort of) ice cream shop in St. Paul. Some of the flavors were a bit off (banana key lime, anyone?) but the two I got, bananas foster and 'peace coffee' were delicious! Izzy's has this concept where, when one orders a single scoop or larger, they can also get a small "izzy" scoop on top of their first. It's a great way to maximize flavor choices, while not having to order too much ice cream. Although I am personally biased and slightly prefer the ice cream of my work, this was very tasty and I went back a second night, unable to resist another scoop of the coffee.

2. Mall of America. I actually went on the second day, just because...well, I was curious. Yes, it is a huge shopping mall. Yes, after twenty minutes I felt zombified. Never again. That's all I'll say.

3. Met some old family friends on the last day in Minnesota. They were nice, old-fashioned, New Yorkers by birth. We ate at a cute little pub in the tiny town where they live, but unfortunately, my food wasn't very good. The root beer was great, however!

4. The next day, I flew to Boston. Once again, I had a layover in Chicago, so I can proudly claim to be reasonably well-acquainted with O'Hare. Hmmm. Boston was overcast, but still quite hot and muggy. I discovered a Taiwanese restaurant in Cambridge that was just great. I ordered Chinese squash with some kind of mountain vegetable, which came in a clear, garlic and ginger sauce, and the fish of the day, which was steamed and served in a hot garlic chili sauce containing so many Szechuan peppercorns my tongue went numb! Yes! After this successful dinner, I went to Toscanini's, because it has been my mission to compare ice creams on this trip. I have to say that Toscanini's is very, very good. The pistachio was rich but heavy on almond extract, which tasted good but didn't allow the pistachios' flavor to really shine. Their burnt caramel flavor was amazing, and not very sweet--something I value in desserts (because, despite my job and my love of baking, I really don't have much of a sweet tooth). I'd definitely go back for more burnt caramel, and my only complaint was that it was kind of melty. The texture was just perfect--silky and creamy.

5. Day five entailed a drive to Western Mass., (what seemed like) a ten-fold increase in humidity across the state, and a torrential downpour that lasted for hours. I actually enjoyed this bizarre weather, and ended up exploring Northampton while getting rained on. I had to exercise extreme self-control on a visit to Faces, which is a store selling apparel and home decor (think Urban Outfitters, but half the price and decidedly cooler). I was particularly besotted with a pear of teal, feathered, patterned moccasins that were wild, bizarre, and seemed to have been made for me. Even now, I dream of them. I also met a person who I'm convinced is supposed to me my new other best friend: this guy at a cafe who made me a (really tasty) au lait, then pronounced the name wrong, adding that he "really likes to mispronounce things." Finally, someone who understands the need that I have harbored, from a very young age, to incorrectly pronounce words. I thought I was the only one.

6. Today, I spent the entire afternoon in New York City. It was an amazing experience, and I feel that I can't really do it justice because it all happened too recently. I haven't had time to play it back in my mind and retrace the details, and honestly, I'm not even sure if I'll be able to do so at a later date. But there will probably be a NYC post in this blog's future. Tonight, I actually ate in the restaurant that is in my cheap hotel. And by cheap, I don't mean pretty-nice-but-also-affordable-cheap. This is Best Western style, baby (though not actually Best Western, because those don't exist in the East). The pizza turned out to be good. Seriously. The crust was perfect and crisp and thin, and I swear they put an entire bunch of basil on top. Plus, it was only $11. Woo, cheap hotel pizza!

Concluding this post, I'd just like to say: six days until Germany.

Last Day/First Day

Friday was my last day in my lovely hometown. I got the chance to see Paige, Victoria (who just returned, safe and with a new-found appreciation for sushi, from Japan!), Ashley, and of course, Anastasia. I even got to say goodbye to David. I was happy, but at the same time, it was all very bittersweet, knowing I won't see them again for another ten months.

I went shopping for several items with Paige. We had drinks and walked around, talking about her job, Germany, people we knew, the ordinary things casual friends talk about. Then I went over to Victoria's, where I was shown hundreds (literally!) of pictures of her life in Japan--the food, the clothing, her 'family' there, the friends she made, shrines...it was wonderful to hear, even briefly, of her experiences.

Later, Anastasia and I took the bus to PDX Pop Now. We got there right as Dirty Mittens, a good local band, had their set. As before when I saw them, they rocked the scene. I'll have to get my hands on a cd sometime in the future. We stayed for the rest of the night--and, as usual at PDX Pop Now, some of the bands were very good, and some...well, not so good. Stand outs were, again, Dirty Mittens, Fear No Music and Explode Into Colors. I was actually disappointed by EIC's set, but only because the sound was fucked up (one of the speakers sounded blown), and there were a lot of people being loud and obnoxious (probably drunk, and because their set was outside). This guy next to me kept making obscene gestures (directed at me) and going on about how much Explode Into Colors sucked, how the sound system sucked, blah blah blah. Dude. Not impressing me.

Anyway, the second day of this particular music fest had an amazing lineup, including Maya's band, so I was really bummed I couldn't go. Also, the Korean taco truck (I know, what?! But it's delicious!) is camping out there, and I really wish I could have had some MexiAsian fusion food again before leaving (I bet they don't have it in Germany). The guy who runs it gave me a free side of Kimchi with my taco. It was a good last night in Portland, what with the food, the music, and Anastasia's ice-cold thermos of coffee/soy/milk and sugar that she shared with me. I hugged her a bunch and I miss her already. It's hard to say goodbye to one's best friend of ten years.

Yesterday, after another hard goodbye to family, I boarded a plane to Chicago, where I caught another to Minneapolis. I am now staying in St. Paul, where I have (so far): eaten out-of-this-world delicious Tibetan food (which, for some insane reason, we don't have where I come from), chocolate, and part of a raspberry muffin (my recent-ish breakfast). They have decent coffee here, too, and shortly I'm heading out to do some exploring and sightseeing. More later, in all probability, but right now, I'm getting a little restless.

Packingggg

Packing is no fun at all. The stress of trying to remember everything is high. Every time I'm certain I've thought of everything, something new pops into my head. Will I successfully pack everything I need?

I can only hope the answer is yes.

Three days (including today) left.

!!!

I'm a little unsure of what to do with myself right now, mostly because I have such a finite amount of time left in my city--time in which I have to cram in so many goodbyes, so many "I-won't-forget-you-please-talk-to-me-on-the-internets," and, I feel, tie up so many loose ends. It's a weird, bittersweet feeling. I spend evenings with my friends and know that I will not see them again for at least a year--maybe longer.

My city never seemed so beautiful to me before, especially in the early evening, when the sun's light is rich and mellow and the air seems thick with promise. Everyone is laughing, having drinks on the sidewalk, wearing chic sunglasses and basking in the midsummer loveliness. How much will I miss this place, when I am gone? I can't imagine calling another town home, but somehow I know I will; and at this very time next year, I may even be sad to leave, to come back here. This place, this city, will not be my home after I leave. It will be a place to come back to, but my home will be nowhere, less clearly defined than it has ever been before. I will have to make my own home again, and it will not be easy.

But I am so excited. There is so much promise, so much life to be lived, waiting for me in another city a continent away. I am prepared for the difficulties of life in another culture, of homesickness for Americana, of being unsure of my place and my role in things. I am prepared for these things, and yet, I find that--after all--I am a little scared. But it is more of a giddiness, a feeling of release mixed with trepidation. It is hard to explain.

And I find (in this pensive mood I seem to have lapsed into) that I love so many people. I have always thought of my circle as being small, comprised of a few people who matter the most to me. But now I realize that there are so many people I care about here. I care about everyone I have ever met, befriended and been changed by. I am thankful for them all, even the ones who are no longer my friends, whom I have traded unkind words with, even people who I barely know anymore. They have shaped me, made me who I am today, and I am stronger for it. Oddly, I catch myself reminiscing about the good times I've had with people who I haven't seen or been friends with in years. This is what uprooting myself engenders. Fond memories and an overwhelming sense of peace. With myself, with the people around me, with my situation.

Maybe I'll use this last week here to tell everybody I know how cool they are, how full they've made my life. That would be fun.

Eleven days

...And counting.

Oh my god.

My mouth thinks it has died and gone to heaven.

Basically, a family friend from Chicago who makes amazing deep-dish pizza invited me over for dinner before I go to Germany. Hooooly shitttt. So good. I try not to swear excessively in the blogosphere, because it sounds stupid later (i.e., when I reread my blog posts out of boredom). But, there is no other way for me to convey the deliciousness of this pizza. Words, profanities even, cannot express how good it was. I wish I'd had my camera and taken pictures, although it's dark and rainy here right now, so they wouldn't have come out well at all. Anyway, it was a simple pizza--mozzarella, tomato sauce (with copious amounts of garlic, of course), Italian sausage, olives, onion, basil. My favorite toppings. Home-made crust! I could go on and on about that crust. Sweet Jesus, that pizza was good.

And for dessert, there was ice cream from a certain locally-owned ice cream shop. That I happen to work at. Ahem.

It's the little things like this evening I spent with friends and family, eating good food and having good conversation, that I will miss the most when I am away. I can't wait for this next chapter in my life, but at the same time, I'm reminded a little every day how much I care about everyone here, and how lucky I am that life right where I am makes me this happy.

Here are some things that are making me happy this week:

*There is deep dish pizza in the fridge for lunch before work tomorrow.

*Orange blossom honey

*Economy pack of Twining's Earl Grey Tea

*Honey-nut Cheerios (Good breakfast cereal can make my day, actually.)

*I've seen so many of the people I love, but who I am never able to visit, in the past few days.

*Ice cream!

*Fresh vegetables from a friend's garden

*The premier of the next movie installment in a certain over-hyped franchise involving a boy wizard, which I may be going to with coworkers

Is anything not making me happy? Honestly, the list is very short:

*Packing. Ugh. My life=boxes.

*Mt. Eerie is playing at a local music fest. AND I'M GOING TO MISS IT. A sad turn of events (but I'll be in Europe...!).

More at some point in the future. Right now, pizza-bliss/work-induced weariness are lulling me into a sleepy daze. Oh, July.

Superfest! (and a weird day)

This past weekend was, as the Germans sometimes say, prima. Why? One word (well, technically two, actually): Superfest!

(Photos from Atole and lamanyana on Flickr)

Basically, a great show. Starfucker, Atole, Copy, YACHT, Explode Into Colors + assorted others. It's apparently going to become an annual tradition. Cool? Yes, very. The time is ripe for electropop dance parties.

And now, my weird day. Yesterday: Wed., July 1. I spent most of the day around the house, studying, eating lunch, filling out various forms, etc. Then, around 2:00 PM, I went to the store to buy postage stamps. This is when things got weird.

While I was in line at the checkout, waiting to buy stamps, another cashier opened her checkout. She turned to everyone in line and said the usual stuff about helping whoever is next, etc. An elderly woman in front of me started to move toward the other checkout. Then the cashier turned to me and said, "Are you third today?" 

I was third in line behind the elderly woman and someone in front of her, so I said, "Yeah." The cashier turned to the elderly woman. 

"Who's this???" She asked conversationally. I then realized that she had not said "Are you third today" but "Are you with her today?" And I was very embarrassed. 

The elderly woman gave me a patronizing look and said, "She's not with me." I tried to explain my mistake, but they both turned away in the middle of my explanation and started talking about the fourth of July. 

I felt very strange after that.

But things only got weirder from there. Next, I decided to go out and do some birthday shopping for two of my friends who have a birthday coming up (yes, they share a birthday--they're twins). As I was walking down the street to a shop, I saw my ex-boyfriend's sister. I kind of nodded at her and smiled; she glared at me. Feeling a little odd, I continued on. I was stopped by one of those canvassers attempting to convince people to "adopt" a child from a third-world country. But instead of trying to sign me up for a cause, she engaged me in a spirited conversation about my t-shirt, which bore a large picture of Bullwinkle (you know, from Rocky and Bullwinkle, the cartoon of my youth). 

"OH MY GOD, I took a cartooning class from the guy who drew them, and he was awesome!" She stated emphatically, while simultaneously giving me a high-five. 

I moved on down the street. As I entered a bookstore, a girl who had been standing inches away from me at Superfest came out with one of her friends. I smiled at her, and she gave me an awkward look, then turned to her friend and started whispering. Another bizarre encounter.

Later, after leaving the book store, a transient street-kid with a great number of spikes and chains and patches on his clothes shouted, "HEY! I like your sunglasses!" 

"Thanks," I responded. He then followed me into the shop I was approaching, singing loudly about LSD. Inside the shop, I wanted to buy a gift card. I was rung up by the cutest cashier I have ever seen. He was very friendly and chatted me up, but I was so awkward and mumbly that it was kind of a lost cause. I became convinced I had something on my face, that I looked somehow bizarre and extremely, impossibly unattractive. I attempted to look at him while he asked me how my day was going, and felt very flustered and disorganized. 

"Have a nice day," said the cashier, smiling. I said something lame and left. Luckily, the LSD-kid was actually browsing and didn't follow me out.

My last stop was a store that usually sells cheap used cds, because I really want to get some new music before I leave the U.S. for a year. As I paused to survey a rack of one dollar DVDs, a guy (who I assumed was an employee, as he seemed to be arranging the DVDs) asked, "How are you today?" 

"Fine," I responded. "Just browsing the extremely cheap movies." 

The man chuckled. "For sure," he said. "So, what's your name?" He stuck out his hand.

I shook it, told him my name. I realized he wasn't an employee. I realized, too, that he was way too old for me, but at least a couple inches shorter than I am. I became a little weirded out.

"Nice to meet you," he said. Just then, one of his friends approached and engaged him in conversation about some movie. I took that opportunity to leave. I decided I was done shopping, and went home.

As I type this, I find that my day doesn't read as weird as it felt. But by the time I went home, I was wondering: what made me such a magnet for attention? Was it the Bullwinkle t-shirt? The huge sunglasses purchased in California? A general aura of approachability I was unknowingly giving off? Whatever the reason, yesterday was a day full of strange interactions. Today I work--I wonder what will happen there?

Californicationnnn (or whatever).

Wow. I should really post more often on this blog, but life's been getting in the way. Right now, for example, I am in sunny California, visiting relatives. Before that, I was wrapping up my studies in the United States, which was both liberating and bizarre. It's a strange feeling, knowing that I'm not going back to it all next year. Strange in a good way.

Anyway, I can barely write for some reason (it's probably the anticipation of going to the beach), but for a post that's completely unrelated to my travel plans for the coming year, I'm going to talk about my California experience. Things I've noticed so far (this is Southern California, mind you):

1. What is with the coffee here?! I'm so used to getting amazing lattes that it's been really tough adjusting to the L.A. idea of a latte, which tastes like burnt cigarettes and costs $3.50. Why does it have to be this way? You'd think that in a town harboring the glam, fashionable, wealthy people of the West Coast, there would at least be decent joe. Noooo. Sorry. Not happening. Damn it.

2. The Mexican food/drink here is amazing. Why go to Mexico when you could go to L.A.?

3. For some reason, there is a fro-yo chain and a sushi place on every corner. And there are actually restaurants that serve ramen. Much as I love my own city, everyone there seems to think that Japanese food=teriyaki chicken, tempura and California rolls.

4. When not in the extremely Latin parts of L.A., the whole place reminds me of Japan. Shops in Melrose are exactly like shops in Tokyo. Many of them are even owned by Japanese people.

5. LAKERSZOMGLAKERSEVERYWHEREEVERYONELOVESTHEMMMMMMMM.

6. Trader Joe's is really big here. It's everywhere! It's groovy! Wheeeee.

7. Sales tax is insane. Everything is ridiculously overpriced (see $3.50 latte comment above).

8. There is a crazy, body-builder celeb playing the role of Governor.

9. People drive ridiculously fast. 75, 80 mph on the freeway? Yeah, no problem! Everyone's trying to get out of L.A. really, really quickly.

10. SUN. It's beautiful. There are beaches. Nice beaches. There are palm trees. I could get used to this. Mhmmm.

Really, I love California. Despite the lack of coffee and the prevalence of chain everything. I'll actually try to post about more German-related things in the future, but I'm not there yet, so there's really not much to say. Later.

Next Year's Living Arrangements

Just today, I learned where I'll be living in Germany. 

It's a small, North German city of about 150,000 called Neuss, just to the West of Düsseldorf. I'm extremely excited, as Düsseldorf is very similar in size to my current city of residence, and Neuss, from what I've seen via Google images, is home to some seriously beautiful, medieval architecture (as well as located on the Rhine). As an added bonus, I'll be very close to the Netherlands, Belgium and France. Train trips are in my future.

I really haven't researched all that thoroughly yet, but I did find an interesting fact about Neuss somewhere on the internet: apparently, there's a huge heap of garbage somewhere in the city that people there are considering making into a ski slope (because the rest of the terrain is, apparently, quite flat). Somehow, the idea that I will be living in a city where the residents will gladly ski down a mountainous trash heap comforts me beyond measure. It sounds like something people would do where I live (after they'd gotten over bitching about the environmental irresponsibility of having a mountainous trash heap, which admittedly could take ages).

Disappointments and Quandaries

First of all, I didn't go cosmic bowling.

Ok, so this wasn't entirely disappointing, as I was severely tired and hungry by 9:30 last night, which was a full hour before I was supposed to show up. Still, it would have been enjoyable, as bowling tends to bring out the ridiculous in everyone.

Then, the Phil Elverum show...

I won't say that it was horrible. Phil Elverum was good. But the venue was a building that is an extension of a well-known state university where I live, and, well, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was sitting in a college seminar called "Hear Phil Elverum Play 101." In fact, huddling on the floor (there weren't enough chairs--I blame the local "indie" media for making this so well publicized), squished in next to hipsters in aviators, skinny jeans, and second-hand cardigans, I felt more like an eager second-grader at a school assembly than anything else. But at second-grade assemblies, nobody has piercings or drinks tall glasses of beer. 

I would have been marginally ok with this scene if not for the fact that, for about forty minutes before Phil Elverum even played, everyone in the room was subjected to some "local artist's" installation that consisted of ear-drum-bustingly loud white noise (mostly recorded crashings of local waterfalls, amplified ten-fold and combined with what sounded like the squeals of tires on an expressway) and seizure-inducing black and white images rolling and flashing around on a screen at dizzying speed. This went on. And on. And onnnn. Do you see where I'm going with this? I was bored almost into a state of catatonia. Hipsters all around were discreetly leaving, hands held over their ears or clutching their cell phones as they frantically texted, presumably informing their friends that Phil Elverum was not playing and that they were bored. Or at least, that is what I would have conveyed, had I been in their place. Finally, mercifully, the noise--excuse me, the art--ended. Would Phil Elverum finally play?

No. Instead, there was an interminable interview with the "artist," in which he talked about "mother nature's power" and some sycophants enthusiastically volunteered that his work had helped them to "find their quiet place." Please. The worst stereotypes about the art world were confirmed and displayed for all to see, and I had to hold back a derisive snicker. My friend who was with me was trying hard not to look too amused, and we kept shooting each other knowing glances. The upside to the interview is that Phil Elverum, when asked "Don't you strive to create his quality of sound when you perform?" answered in this quiet, unassuming voice, "I don't think I could ever make that much noise." I felt a little sorry for the "artist" as Phil Eleverum continued to underhandedly insult his work, but I was too annoyed that I'd had to sit through half an hour of it to really be that sympathetic.

All in all, I've had better Saturdays. Today it's work, and then study, and then crash. I could not be less stoked. On the upside, I'm looking forward to Germany, and have been thinking about my year ahead frequently as my departure date looms closer. Three months? Where has the time gone? Only three months left in my beautiful city, three months left with my wonderful friends, three months left eating my home-cooked meals, sleeping in my own bed, waking up to the familiar view out of my window of the flowering trees. Three months left in which to hike for the last time along my favorite trails to the beach, camp for the last time in the mountains, see local shows, walk around the city snapping photos. Yes, I can do all of this in Germany. And I can do it when I get back. But I'll be gone for a full year, and it seems very final. Like I have to cram in everything I've ever wanted to do here before I leave.

I've also been thinking/wondering a lot about what it will be like to live in Germany. Mostly just about the quality of life--what the dating scene is like, whether there is cheap ethnic food, whether there are organic farms, if I'll be able to work out when I'm there, what people generally do on the weekends, if the coffee is good, etc. With the whole internet at my fingertips, I still haven't really been able to glean much information about the real, everyday lives of those who live in Germany, and I doubt that my experience will really be similar to others', anyway--I believe everyone experiences a country differently depending on their individual tastes and beliefs. But I'd still really like to be able to have an in-depth conversation with someone else who's lived/studied there, even if our experiences won't be similar. I feel like it would put this whole situation into perspective for me.

Hmmm

Two reasons why I am excited for this weekend:

P. Elvrum/Elverum/Mt. Eerie!

Cosmic Bowling!

Reasons why I am not excited for this weekend:

Work.

Only three more days until exams.

Lately, I've been very soundtrack oriented. And my soundtrack has been: Beck/Starfucker. Humm, nothing really surprising there. Perhaps new music is in order?

Flickr

I actually took the time to configure a flickr. It's here.

Not much photography yet, but I plan to be more proactive regarding its existence in the future.

Chocolate Chip Saga--Pt. II

I will preface this by admitting to myself that nobody really cares about my adventures in baking. Readers (if there are any, which is somewhat debatable) may even find my meandering sentences about cookies and cakes extremely boring.

However, I cannot be stopped. My love for the chocolate chip cookie is too great.

A few nights ago, the mood struck. I needed chocolate chip cookies, and I still had experimenting with proportions to do. This time, I used the same recipe as before, but instead of decreasing the flour further, I increased the butter just a little--from one stick to one and a quarter. I increased the vanilla from one teaspoon to two. I increased the amount of salt from (as I recall) a quarter teaspoon to a half teaspoon. I didn't use the liquid called for in the original recipe, because I cut down the flour enough that the batter wasn't at all dry. In addition, I added about one and a quarter bags of chocolate chips, because...well, because I love chocolate. I also added a cup of pecan pieces, because the chocolate chip cookies I enjoyed so much in the past usually contained pecans. Unlike last time I baked these cookies, I did not leave the dough overnight, because I wanted cookies immediately.

Wow. These cookies were great. The increased butter, vanilla and salt gave them a greater depth of flavor, and the high proportion of chocolate made this batch extra-delicious. They didn't spread out during baking; I feel I've achieved a good balance between flavorful, buttery but also cakey and not greasy. Best of all, I made these smaller than usual--as a result, I have many, many cookies. Surprisingly for how much I enjoy baking, I move through cookies and sweets very slowly (I don't actually have much of a sweet tooth, besides my love for certain chocolate and these cookies). I'm looking forward to enjoying these with friends over the next few weeks. They keep really well, an added bonus for someone without much of an appetite for dessert.

So, here is the recipe. I couldn't resist posting it, because I'm proud of how delicious it is.

Chocolate Chip Cookies

2 1/4 cups flour

1 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. salt

1 1/4 sticks unsalted butter

1/2 cup white sugar

1 cup brown sugar

3 eggs

2 tsp. vanilla extract

1 1/4 bags semisweet chocolate chips

1 cup chopped pecans or pecan pieces

Preheat oven to 350 degrees (F). Combine flour, baking soda and salt, then set aside.

In another bowl, cream butter and white sugar, then add the brown sugar and beat until fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time. Add vanilla. Slowly beat in flour mixture, scraping down sides of bowl as needed. When finished, stir in the nuts and the chocolate chips.

Grab a spoon, and drop bits of dough (roughly a tablespoon) onto an ungreased cookie sheet, about an inch to an inch and a half apart. If you want smaller cookies, you can go with a roughly a teaspoon of dough per cookie.

Bake for 10 to 15 min. (I baked mine for 12 and they were perfect, but my oven is from the 1950s, so newer ovens will inevitably produce different results.) Enjoy!

P.S. While baking, I highly recommend playing some music. My playlist for this batch of cookies included Animal Collective, Starfucker, and MGMT (among others)....awful, maybe, but strangely energizing.

Well, I did it!

All my hard work paid off--I won the Germany scholarship. My mind is just...racing, as I attempt to process this information.

I.

Cannot.

Believe.

I thought I would be finding out in April, but I found out this afternoon--just five days after being interviewed by a panel of judges. I find myself wondering how this happened, only to realize that, after putting so much effort into the application process, I should have been more surprised if I didn't get it. I'm extremely grateful to the judges, who were friendly, accommodating, and generally just amazing people. I was sick with a fever, and they rescheduled my interview so that I could have a thirty minute conversation with them. How cool is that?!

Now all I need to do is call my German grandmother, as she'll be overjoyed. She already told her German friends about this.

joyeux jour de st. valentin!

...And though I have no "valentine" this year, life is still good!

I treated myself to some good music today:

Here's to chocolate, happiness, Beck and Phil Elvrum.

Exhaustion

I am so exhausted right now. Busy day at work, slept badly, not much coffee consumed. I feel really crippled by how tired I am. It's taking a lot of effort to press these keys, but I wanted to belatedly post some news.

I am a semi-finalist for the scholarship! More interviews on the horizon.

There. Now it's out. And I don't have to write any more. I am excited, but oh-so-tired.

Interview I

I have my first interview for the scholarship tomorrow. I have mixed feelings about this. I'm actually fairly confident in my ability to be eloquent, interesting, and outgoing, but I also am plagued by an image of sitting there, in front of the interviewer, completely stumped by a question. Being at a loss for words is never a good situation to find oneself in, and I can't shake this paranoia that I'll be completely unable to answer a question. This fear may not be realistic (I find that on most subjects, I have a lot to say), but what fears are?

My second fear is that I won't be able to shut up. Somehow, I need to strike a balance between enthusiastic/forthcoming and poised. I need to express myself verbally without coming across as too pushy, or not interested enough. Perhaps I'm overanalyzing.

My baking exploits continue. This time, it's banana bread! I tried a new recipe this time, because I only had two ripe bananas, and the recipe I usually use calls for four. The new recipe includes yoghurt. I found that the resulting bread was moist, tangy, and quite delightful. I'll post the recipe later.

Three days until inauguration. I can smell the change!

Time for a little exciting news!

I am setting up my very own darkroom!

2009 is looking promising already.

'Nuff said.

Favorite Winter Recipes

I love winter food. It's so good, and it makes me feel warm and happy inside. Something about eating hearty, warm meals and sipping hot beverages makes me feel at peace with the world. At least for one night. So I decided to share the love. Here are a few of my favorite things to make in winter. I highly recommend you try them, as you won't be disappointed.

Spiced Cider (Non-Alcoholic)

Really, there are few things so satisfying to me as a hot cup of spiced cider on a cold, snowy afternoon.

1 bottle apple cider or unfiltered apple juice (I like the Gravenstein kind from Trader Joe's)

1 cinnamon stick

3 to 5 cloves (depending on how much you like them--I usually go for four)

1/2 a nutmeg seed

3 to 5 allspice seeds (again, depending on how spicy you want this to be)

Put everything in a pot, and bring to a boil. Turn heat under the pot to low, and let steep for as long as you'd like (just remember to eventually take it off the flame). And it continues to steep, even without heat--it just gets better and better as the days go by. Not that you'll have it for more than two or three.

Nut Crescent Cookies

When I baked Christmas cookies for friends and family this year, I made these babies, along with some lemon sugar cookies. Everybody agreed that the nut crescents stole the show. They are almost pure butter and pecan, and really, what could be better? These are from Cook's Illustrated, a magazine that is usually spot-on in the baking department.

2 cups whole pecans, chopped fine
2 cups bleached all-purpose flour
¾ teaspoon salt
½ lb. (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
½ cup superfine sugar
1 ½ teaspoons vanilla extract
1 ½ cups confectioners’ sugar for rolling cooled cookies

1. Adjust oven racks to upper- and lower-middle positions and heat oven to 325 degrees. Mix 1 cup chopped nuts, flour, and salt in medium bowl; set aside. In workbowl of a food processor fitted with a steel blade, process remaining chopped nuts until the texture of course cornmeal, 10 to 15 seconds (do not overprocess; you should have about ¾ cup ground nuts); stir into flour mixture and set aside. (To finely grind chopped nuts by hand, roll them between two large sheets of plastic wrap with rolling pin, applying moderate pressure, until broken down to course cornmeal-like texture).
2. Either by hand or with electric mixer, cream butter and sugar until light and creamy, about 1 ½ minutes with mixer set at medium; beat in vanilla. Scrape sides and bottom of bowl with spatula; add flour mixture and beat at low speed until dough just begins to come together but still looks scrappy, about 15 seconds. Scrape sides and bottom of bowl again; continue beating at low speed until dough is cohesive, 6 to 9 seconds longer. Do not overbeat.
3. Working with about 1 tablespoon dough at a time, roll dough into 1 ¼-inch balls. Roll each ball between hands into rope that measures 3 ½ inches long. Shape ropes into crescents on ungreased cookie sheets, spacing them 1 to 1 ½ inches apart.
4. Bake, reversing position of cookie sheets (from top rack to bottom and front to back) halfway through baking, until tops are pale golden and bottoms are just beginning to brown, 17 to 19 minutes. Cool cookies on sheets about 2 minutes before transferring them to a cooling rack.
5. Cool cookies to room temperature, about 30 minutes. Working with three or four cookies at a time, roll cookies in confectioners’ sugar to coat them thoroughly. Gently shake off excess. (They can be stored in an airtight container up to 5 days.)