A Traveler's Best Friend

Dear Constant Readers,

The highlight of this past week was a little trot Dylon and I took to Marsaille, France on Friday. We got back yesterday. It all started like this:

Dylon went to England with some of the other exchange students on a trip they put together. I didn't go because I wasn't asked, but it suited me fine. Then, last week, I learned they were planning a trip to Greece, which I would have been interested in. Again I wasn't asked, probably because I've mostly stopped hanging out with them in an attempt to find my own crowd. I was particularly disturbed by this lack of invitation, but it did prompt me to ask Dylon if we should throw a trip together ourselves. I believe this was at 6.00 Wednesday evening. By 8.00 we had decided that a trip to some place on the Mediterranean was in order. It didn't take us long to choose Marsaille, for no good reason other than it simply seemed like a good location. We managed to throw together some travel plans, a hotel reservation, and some ticket reservations on the night train.

To those who recall what I said about how much I love 8-hour long flights, particularly night flights, the same applies here for trainrides of that duration. At least in a plane though, you always know where your seat is, there is the possibility of a movie, and conditions normally keep people from blabbing into their cellphones when you to get something that passes as sleep. Also, there are luggage compartments which keep your backpack from falling down and landing on your head after you moments finally obtain that sleep.

It made for an interesting night, but all said and down, we reached Marsaille relatively in one peace, albeit exhausted. As soon as we got there we decided that buying return tickets would be in order (we didn't, or weren't able to, buy round-trip tickets before we left) and my skills in French were put to the test after about six years of hibernation. The first conversation involved trying to obtain the aforementioned tickets, which was kind of a pain. The attempt was a bit of a bust. She listed off some options for a return route and Dylon said "What'd she say?" "I don't know, something about Brussells and Sunday." Dylon that that was funny as hell, and when I looked a bit perplexed at this, he said, "C'mon man, we gotta laugh at this or we're gonna shoot ourselves in the head later."

Through trying though, I did get some of it back, and we even obtained a ticket back, although it was much more pricey than I had been expecting...in fact the whole trip was a bit more expensive than I had anticipiated, mostly because of that damned ticket. Anyway though, after getting some cheap McDonald's breakfast and finding directions to our hotel in an internet cafe, we made it safely there (this time I was more successful while asking a French pharmacist where the street of the hotel was) and we got a nap before setting out to see the city.

By the time we set out though, it was dark, so we decided to get some dinner, and see the rest of what we could on Saturday. We ended up choosing a restaurant that consisted mostly of seafood. I'd never had clams or mussels, so it was an experience for me. The food was a bit shocking, some of it was I wasn't sure what I was supposed to eat and what I wasn't. If you crack open an raw crab, for example, you find an orangish material that looks exactly like mashed up carrots. I told myself that's exactly what it was when I bit into it. I don't think I got everything hollowed out of its shell, but I didn't feel particularly sorry about that, and there was plenty more to eat anyway.

Another high point for me was the fact that the hotel room had a bathtub. I love baths much more than showers because I can relax better in them and read as well, but since coming to Germany I haven't had that chance, and even our dorm did have a tub, I'd probably not use it.

After watching a German movie dubbed into French, Dylon and I both fell asleep in our beds, still quite exhausted from the travel.

The next day was more of a sight-seeing. We walked along part of the coast line in the city, and took a boat ride out on the water, and also saw the Isle d'If, the prison-island, from "The Count of Monte Cristo." It was mostly a quite day though soon enough we were back in the train station awaiting to go home. I guess I can tell I'm learning German well when I can't wait to get back to the comforts of a language I know.

Since I knew what to expect of a night train, I was prepared for a more restful trip. I knew where my seat was, and I secured my blunt backpack to so it wouldn't victimize my head while I was resting. Luckily, I even had a whole two seats to myself. Pretty decent, huh? What could go wrong?

The flu, that's what! I got ill, ill, ILL. I'll spare you the details, but it made for the trip back to Luxemburg somewhat of a nausating Hell. I couldn't figure out what it was. The train wasn't a very smooth ride, but I've never been prone to motion sickness. I could have been food-poisoning, but most of what I ate Dylon had also ordered one of. In the end it didn't really matter, though. We arrived in Luxemburg and I had to find a restroom quickly. It cost 1.10 Euros to use the public facilities, and I laid a twenty on the man's desk because I knew I didn't have enough time to count change. He kind of looked at it a bit quizzically and asked what I needed. I pointed to a picture of a toilet, and then promptly threw up on this desk, and he understandably freaked out a bit and decided maybe I didn't have to pay right away after all.

I made it back to Germany from Luxemburg, almost without incident. I knew I wouldn't be able to walk home, and Dylon had to go to work right away, so I took a cab and left her a good sized tip because at this point I didn't care so much about getting correct change, I just wanted to find a bathroom and then try to sleep.

The rest of the day was rather feverish and very sleep-deprived. I sent Katrin a text telling her I needed her help, and that evening she came buy and I explained everything as best I could, and then she went to the store and bought me some stuff that I use digest without turning into mush.

But there is one thing that she couldn't find, and that's because it doesn't exist in Germany, at least not in any store she'd seen. And that, my friends, is Pepto Bismol, quite possibly a traveler's best friend. Do NOT leave home without it. I don't know what countries it's sold in and which it isn't, frankly I was as surprised as my feeble energy would allow when she told me she'd never heard of it. I know it's sold in Mexico, and for damn good reason too. The last time I was this ill was when I was living in Mexico fighting off a bout of of Moteczuma's Revenge, or as I prefer to call it, the Aztec Two-Step.

Katrin checked in on me from time to time and spent time asking me how the trip was, since I was completely bedridden for 90% of the day. I wasn't completely feverish, but enough to have confused thoughts such as while looking at my dorm ceiling and recalling the first day I got here, thinking "This is Germany," and then considering my state, "And this is Germany on drugs."

Eventually I did get some rest, and by 8.30 AM today, Tuesday, I was feeling ten times better. Not a hundred percent, and Katrin seemed a little shocked when I suggested I might to classes (she quickly vetoed the idea). Hence I've spent most of the day indoor drinking Sprite and medicinal tea, however I felt good enough to straighten my room up and get my laundry washed. Tomorrow I should be well enough to get to class. However, I'm still going to call it a night early. It's 10.00 now, which is fairly early for me to be going to bed, but I don't want to play games with myself right now when I'm this close to feeling better again.

So anyway, I hope all of you are doing well, and I hope this note finds you well. I'd love to hear back from anyone who wants to respond.

Sincerely,
Tristan

And the nominees are in

Dear Constant Readers,

I'm writing to you now late on a Thursday night. Ideally, I would like to write earlier in the week, but the time on Tuesdays, when I normally write, is nill anymore. And really, I'm quite tired at the moment, but I still feel that it is important to write and be consistant. In my personal diary it's become harder. I try to be consistant, but I don't write every day in it, and sometimes that makes me feel a bit like I'm shirking my duties. After the years of writing in it, it has become a bit of a habit and I can't really imagine not writing in it anymore. If you don't keep a diary, or a journal, or whatever you want to call it, it might be a good idea to start. It's probably not for everyone, but I don't regret starting mine; I actually wish I had begun sooner.

Anyway, about this week. There was one thing that I wanted to write about in my last entry that slipped my mind. While helping Katrin cook a meal, I accidently broke a bowl and a cup that fell out of my cupboard as I was reaching for a pan. The glass cereal bowl almost vaporized, considering it fell only a foot or so. That didn't bother me very much. I just swept up all the glass I could with our pitiful sorry excuse for a broom.

The mug, however, did bother me. I was fond of that cup. I had found it here left behind from another student gone by, so I more or less inherited it, in the same way I'm leaving my pots and pans here for the next student. For being just a dish, I got kind of attached to it. It was a yellow, bowl-shaped cup with a smiley face on one side. On a couple of occasions some of the other students here would laugh at it because it did look kinda cute. I was hoping it would last me through out the year. It didn't really break that much, but it broke in half, effectively retiring it from service. I didn't see the point in trying to glue it, I figured the glue would just melt anyway after repeated tea drinkings. It's not the first time I've broken a cup; once in Mexico I was watching a movie and accidently rolled over my drinking glass with the leg of a rocking chair, and although I laughed a bit about the broken dishes (what really does one do? It's a minor thing, just get new ones) I was a little bit hurt at the loss of this cup. Maybe it was the smiley face on it. And then it made me wonder why I felt so attached to it. I wonder if it is an unhealthy thing, or if there is some natural reason why we personify possesions sometimes. When I threw it away, I felt a bit like a traitor, like I was petting a dog that I knew I would have to put down, yet the dog still had no clue. I doubt the mug really cared, but somehow I did.

This week hasn't been to rough, although it's gotten quite frigid. Apparently snow is right around the corner, but on the weather forcast it keeps getting pushed back until "tomorrow".

Today I told Dylon I felt like I was going to snap. Largely that's an exageration, and some of it is my own fault, but other times I do feel beat. A few times I've considered writing a list of things I'm frustrated with, but I have always refrained, mainly for the following reasons: A) I didn't want any friend of mine who was feeling a bit like they had a sadistic to read the list and then decide to use them against me. B) I don't want to appear more negative than I think I really am. C) Mainly though, I felt writing about them would be an indulgence, and I didn't want to entertain frustrations by writing on them and dwelling on them. However, I think writing them out could be a good way to get some of them out of my system, even if some of them do sound whiney (it is my blog, I reckon).

It blows my mind how if people aren't vegetarians in this country, they might as well be because no one seems to eat meat, and everytime I cook something with Katrin (which I DO enjoy doing by the way!) it's always vegetables. No emphasis on good juicy meat. It's something I'm going to try to work on when I'm cooking for myself. (However, I will add this: the vast majority of what I have eaten here has been good, regardless).

I wish I lived on campus sometimes (although that would mean I can't live in the city anymore, and I would ultimately rather live here). But I don't like how sometimes I have to run to catch the bus, and walk across town to do it. Most days it doesn't bother me, but sometimes, like today, it feels more like a hassle than anything. I usually opt to stay at the university, even if I don't have a class for two hours, because when I figure in waiting for a bus, driving to town, walking home, and then doing it all over again, it doesn't seem worth it. It gives me a chance to do something productive, like read the newspapers at school, or do my homework, or just read my novel, but it does feel a bit stifling sometimes, especially if I have to carry two tons of materials around in my shoulder bag that by now has pratically rubbed a hole through my thigh by now.

Sometimes I feel like I just have to beat the clock. Meet someone, go grocery shopping, get to class, get the bus, or whatever. I could be a better manager of time, so don't point that out. But some days just drive even the best time wizard up the wall.

Although I know I'm making great improvements in my language, some things I feel stuck on. I don't feel that my pronunciation is really improving, for example. It's a bit of a game for me to see how well I can acheive an accent. But it's an important game, similar to a hobby.

I don't like how some girls just can't take compliments. I say something to them and they just act real shy. Just pretend, and say thank you, if it's that big of a deal. It's called manners.

No more night classes that end at 8. No reason, just no more. This might just be venting from today, though. On the subject of classes though, no more damned lectures. If I wanted to die of boredom I would watch paint dry. I might not be able to get out of this one next semester, but I'm going to see what I can do.

Another thing I'm going to do is try not to have classes before 10.00, 9.00 at the earliest. Contrary to what you might be thinking, like my parents, this is not so I can spend the day in bed. I am in fact making an effort to get up around 8 AM, 9 AM at the latest every day, just to develop a good habit. But I don't like to hit the ground running, especially when the running involves making the bus. I'm not trying to shirk life's duties, but I'm not a morning person, even if I do decide that I want to get up "early" from now on.

That's mostly what I can think of right now. I'll say this too, although it rather contradicts what I wrote about regarding the mug. I may have mentioned this before, but sometimes I just wish I could start over in life. I feel like, even in this little space of mine, I have too much crap. Sometimes I want to take most everything and just throw it into the nearest shredder I can find in one painful swoop where it will be so fast I won't have time to have second thoughts, and then I can start things over somehow. I haven't done something that I want to start over, but it amazes me how stuff accumulates and somehow weighs someone down. A personal example of this for me is how I get nervous about traveling and overpack. All I really need is my computer, some of my books, some notebooks, and then of course appropriate clothes. Indeed, I have all that here, but sometimes things just look too cluttered. I've become a bit of a minimalist in life. I like the simple feel of things when there isn't much around. When there is, it just feels like I'm being stared at from everything I've boughten or somehow acquired, and it's just a reminder that I need to finish something before starting something new, or how I think I needed something, but it turned out to be a fleeting feeling, but now I'm stuck with whatever it is I bought.

And maybe here all of my opinions will change someday. I don't know. I'm just venting this out right now. Some of them were probably stated a little rashly. But hell, we all have our days, don't we? Today was not a bad day, but when it came to organizing something, I couldn't get my head on straight it felt like.

If you are still with me, I salute you. :-) Because despite all that, here's the good that I also want to share: I am getting quite settled in here, although I'm just now realizing it. I don't know if students qualify as expatriots, although according to the dictionary I looked in, anyone living abroad is an expatriot. I'm glad then to be one. I wonder sometimes what I will be doing years from now, and how this traveling will have effected me. Maybe some people travel when they are young because they can, and they want to get it out of their system before moving on in life. It sounds a bit like partying. Going through the partying stage and then getting it out of their system and growing up. I don't know. But I don't think traveling is like that for me. Sometimes I wonder if I could do this again. I'd like to. Peace Corps. ESL in Japan, Russian, or whereever. Working for NGOs in Third World Countries. Who knows. Sometimes I wonder if I'll burn out, or just want to settle down and see everything else from just being a tourist. But I don't really like that idea. It sounds boring at this point to me. I want to keep going out, and I can't really see myself settling in a single area for the rest of me life. How can I? I'm in Germany now, when do I go to Japan? I'm in Japan now, when do I get to see New Zealand. Now I'm in New Zealand, but I've never seen Egypt before. And so on.

I don't know, it's too late at night to think of that right now.

Regarding my title: I would like to watch the Oscars this year, as I've done every year since 1997, when "Titanic" won Best Picture. I was disappointed to see that "United 93", the film I really wanted to see get it wasn't nominated in the category. But I wasn't all that surprised either, based on what I read in the news. For those of you who do follow this, I personally think Scoresse will get it, although I don't know about that, either, since he has been passed up many times already. Until tonight, I had only seen "The Departed," which was well-made, but it didn't really move me. However, I had nothing to compare it with. But after having just finished "Babel", I would definitely choose that one. I thought the story was more interesting, and because the vast majority of it wasn't even in English (rather Arabic, Spanish, Japanese, or Japanese Sign Language) I found that more interesting as well, on a personal level. I'm no longer the movie buff that I was, but I still take it seriously.

Anyway, I need to get ready for my class tomorrow. Hope all is well.

Sincerely,
Tristan

Hello again

Dear Constant Readers,

What more to say? I was in the middle of a bit of a dismal moment last weekend, and I was going to write about that, but the truth is things have gotten better again, which is indeed better for me, although sometimes it makes it a bit more challenging to think of things to say! :-)

One thing I've learned a bit of this week: Time and space can be wonderful things, and I don't mean quantum physics either. Sometimes they can be what a friendship needs. On Monday I was surprised when a person I know spent some time talking with me, just small talk about movies and TV shows, and wishes for the future, and so on. I was happy, and more than a little taken a back since we hadn't really spoken since a few weeks after school started. Of course I can't see how things go, but relationships of all kinds have funny ways of taking on shapes of their own. There have been some relationship in my life, some strained to the most painful point of all, that I hope are not gone, and this what I'm writing is my message to that person, if their eyes are gracing these words. Even if it takes years, some friendships are too deep to just forget about. I don't know, sometimes the pain goes to deep to want to go back, and maybe it should be cut loose, but in my heart of hearts, I'm not sure that's always the best course of action. I know that I don't want to think ill of people, although some people, although I try and have nothing against them personally, they just drive me up the wall. I don't feel proud about it, because many of them are decent folk, but something doesn't quite pass, rather it irritates. Is this so with anyone else?

It's official, you Joyce fans, I'm going to the land of about 90% of my forfathers, the inventors of the potatoes and rainbows: Ireland. Me and a few other people (two Americans, and one Italian) are going to fly there for a few days in February. Dublin, since you asked. I'm happy about this trip, although I always get nervous before I travel, especially if I don't know the people very well. Fortuantely it's not exactly the situation in this case, I'm quite comfortable with Ily, the Italian, and the other two I get along with quite cordially, but part of me is always afraid of being a wet blanket. It's a bit of quandry for me. I want to be independent, but I also get scared to take that move sometimes, and then kick myself because if I'm going to be independent no one's gonna be there to hold my hand. Indeed, I do enjoy the company of people, and don't want to be selfish. Sometimes I just feel really misanthropic and somehow distrust myself. I suppose that's part of getting to know people better, which can be part of the reason for traveling. In any case, I'm looking forward to the trip. It will be strange to be surrounded by English again, I think, and I was hoping to save that for America, just to see how it felt, in the name of science, but it's a small trifle. :-)

This Ireland trip will be taken during a two month break we have between semesters, and to be blunt about it I'm scared of this break. I'm scared because I want to travel alone but not alone. I want to book flights to other countries, and book hostels to stay in, but I've never really done that before (I guess I had booked the flight here, however) and there's something about making that commitment, about meeting someplace at a certain time, or making a connecting flight on time, that I'm really afraid of screwing up, and then getting lost or having wasted the money because I missed it. Sometimes it feels like I don't have enough common arrange such a plan, that's the bottom line of it all. It's not trusting myself. One would think that after the amount of traveling I've done I'd be over it, but it isn't the case, somehow. It's not rocket science, and yet it still is like a mountain range in front of me.

The other thing is money. I don't really want a job here, but it would take care of money issues and give me something to do if I have too much time on my hands and go bonkers because of it. But I think a job would be tie me down more than I would like. Or maybe I'm making excuses up again. Part of me doesn't want to completely empty my savings over this year; I suppose it's an insecurity thing where I feel like I have nothing to fall back on. A friend of mine here said that since I'm a student, I will be poor anyway and why not go home with no money left? How in the living hell can he say that without even batting an eye? I'd sure as hell bat an eye; I'd lose sleep over it. He pointed out that this is an opportunity that I'll never have again, which made me feel even more pressure to jump. I am helping with an English conversation table every week, as I'm a native speaker they pay a small bit to those who can do it. It's not much at all, but every small bit helps. I mentioned that I wanted to sit in on some of the other language tables (German and Spanish) but since until last week I was the only native speaker of English present, I felt obliged, and didn't particularly mind it either, to sit in and help the students of English. Now that they want to bring in more people, I will have a chance to visit those other tables, but with more people there, not everyone gets paid, and really that's been one of the incentives for me to go. It's only 10 Euros a week (40 a month then) so maybe I'm being a miserly ass, and I don't mean to be unfair to the others, let me say that here so they don't think I mean to have a monopoly over it. The other main incentive (the one I had before I even found it it was paid) was to meet more people, and I can do that just as easily, and to a wider degree, by visiting the other tables without covering for the English one, but it still has bitten me a bit. And then sometimes I feel like a real Scrooge, although that's a bit dramatic. I don't pinch pennies, I go out and eat as much as the next person (although I've been trying to cut back on that, too), in the course of trying to develope some good financial habits, sometimes I feel like I've squeezed too hard and have instead become financially worrysome and insecure instead of financially responsible, and that's what I don't want to be at all.

I don't want to run out of money while I'm here and not be able to travel. I don't want to run out of money, because without it, I feel like I'd really be screwed if something happened and I needed it, although if worse came to worse I suppose I could call home and ask for help. So when it comes to traveling, to those cities and countries and I want to see: Iceland, Berlin, Norway, Finland, Denmark, Austria, Rothenberg, Munich, and so on, the two hurdles are money and overall travel arrangements. More likely than not I'll just tell me lazy self to get a grip and act like a man, but this is at least the honest working of what's on my mind.

I've started reading the other English book I brought with me (after Dracula, and the Bible, although I haven't read the latter in a long time, despite meaning to), "The Stand: Complete and Uncut" by Stephen King. The last book by King I (tried) to read was "Needful Things" and I got about halfway through it before giving up. I decided that by halfway if nothing was happening, nothing really was going to happen. Maybe I'll try to go back to it, it is one of the very few books I have left unfinished (in fact nothing else comes to mind, except for "Dracula" but I eventually re-read and finished that one)...Oh yes, "The Last Battle" by CS Lewis. Although that was special circumstances: I was reading that without hardly reading any other book in the series, so I need to go back and read all of those. I actually got within two pages of the end or so, and then gave up! Of course, had I known that it was part of a series that needed to be read in order (typical of serieses, funny that! And that word can't be right.) maybe I wouldn't have been so bored with it. But anyway, I hate leaving a story unfinished. Everytime I read something in English here, though, I feel guilty, because that could be German I'm learning. But then again, sometimes I need a mental break.

So far though, King's book has been pretty decent. The thing is, it's about a plague disguised as the common flu, and the story is actually rather believable in it's telling. So much so, I kid you not, that when I'm reading it and I hear someone coughing I think "What if..." I wanted to read the shorter version, too, to see how they are different, but I have the longer version at hand, so that's that.

I am reading a book in German, though. "Schiffbruch mit Tiger," known throughout the English world as "The Life of Pi." My friend Katrin is helping me read it, and it's a bit of a humbling feeling, I feel like a grade schooler going through a real book for the first time with a parent. In a way, it's exactly the same system. I read aloud and she looks over my shoulder and corrects my pronunciation or explains what certain words mean. I'm also trying to read it alone, and I've resolved to do all of my German reading (other than with Katrin currently) in my room where I can read aloud to hear the language and get used to making sentences and hearing the sounds. One person here already called me fluent in German, although by my own standards it's still a ways off. The funny thing about fluency though, to those of you who are aspiring language learners, is that you never really you have it until you've had it for a while and you realize that for some time now you've been damn good at expressing yourself for the most part. I suppose it's like being in love, or dying of hypothermea: You don't know it until it's too late. :D I couldn't resist saying that. I mean that in an affectionate, smirking way. But it really is like that. You don't cross a barrier and say, "OK, I'm done," tempting though it may be to believe that. I didn't even realize I could speak Spanish as well as I could until I got back into America. And everytime I speak it I can still feel my limitations in it. There is still a word I'm missing, a grammar bit that I should have known better, for the knowledge in the back of my head that I would probably still need a dictonary to get through most novels. Sometimes I don't feel fluent in it at all, but I know I have it, buried somewhere in me, because I had it before.

Anyways, here it is getting late. I'll finish this off and then write you again next week. Hope things are going fine, wherever you may be!

Sincerely,
Tristan

Greetings Again!

Dear Constant Readers,

Doubtless I still make the mistake of writing down the year 2006, and will continue (perhaps not unlike many of you) to do so for the next few weeks to month and a half, give or take. Thankfully this is all automatic here.

I have posted a few more photo-albums on Facebook, so if you have not seen them, I invite you to do so, if you have access to them. I actually have two or three more left to post, ones that I took around Christmas and New Years, but I haven't gotten around to it yet. To those of you who have already seen the photos, I hope you have liked them. I don't know how many albums I'll create by the end of the year, it just depends. Regarding Trier I always find something that I think is beautiful, something small, usually, or fleeting, like how the clouds look, and they'll never look that way again, but I don't take very many photos because most of the time I don't have my camera. For those of you wondering why I posted so many pictures of the moon, or of a wall with vines growing on it, it's simply because that's how I see the world. I try to look at the small things, puddles when I'm jogging, the reflection on the window of people sitting in the bus, the way the light is shining somehow. A lot of them are just personal things, usually it's the colors I fall in love with, or somehow a sense of life there, to hopefully not sound too pretensious. What I wrote last time, about not being able to capture the world with words, I also try to do so with imagery, or, in the words of a dearly respected friend, Amanda, create a window to how I see it and feel about it.

Well, it looks like the moon just disappeared. I saw it and was going to take another photo (half moon tilted, the bottom half gone) but I guess a cloud ate it, so I'll continue with this.

Earlier this week I was out with the regular group of folk that I normally see and spend time with and I saw a red Lambourghini drive down the street near where we are. Dylon was impressed with the car; I thought it looked like a squashed red box. I knew by name that Lambourghinis were famous, but I couldn't see really what was so great about it. It didn't look very curvy or suave, and the noise sounded more hurtful than sexy. Dylon pointed out some the subtlier details about Lambourghinis and similar famous car makes that make them so prestigious. I was impressed, and feel a bit inspired to do some research of my own. I admit I have a misunderstanding (and sometimes a bit of apathy) about cars and other things as well (such as sports, certain music and literature, and mathematics, to name a few ) that I would perhaps find much satisfaction in in pursuing the study of, if only on an amature level. Generally I try to be respectful of something I don't understand, for that very reason. I try to give it the benefit of the doubt, that if I better understood it, maybe I still wouldn't be enraptured by it, but I could see why some people are. But I still feel I should be entitled to my own opinions. James Bond drives an Aston Martin DB5 in "Casino Royale"? (First off, what is it?) Could be great, but without learning Greek, Plato is just a blubbering fool. And even then, after learning "Well, that was the first car that was designed by such and such, or the first car featured in a James Bond film, or has an engine powerful enough to pull the Alps to Russia while being fueled solely on corn syrup," and with all that appreciation, it is still possible to say, "I appreciate it, and can clearly see it's more than a heap; quite the contrary, it's art on wheels, but it still doesn't turn me on"? I think it is. You can't like everything, you can't please everybody, but you can certainly respect it. We are all guilty of this, though. Somethings, despite their obvious world importance, I sometimes couldn't care less about. I only recently became interested in mathematics; sports I almost unfailingly ignore completely, I'm pretty equalitarian about that. Ignorance is supposedly bliss. Perhaps, but I'm not sure it's ever something to be proud of. Sometimes though, it's hard to really care enough otherwise. Maybe it's just a matter of self-control. If you have the opportunity to become enlightened about something, why choose to remain in the dark? Life is a constanst learning lesson, and perhaps, someday, I'll completely change my tune about sports and math. Maybe the sports and math gods will break my heart of stone, so to speak.

I've already noticed that my English is failing. My spelling has gone downhill, and on a very slight level, with only a few words, my vocabulary is leaving me. My way of expressing myself has also become a bit less fluid, although part of that is also me just experiementing with a new "voice" of writing/speaking. Having decided for the time being to focus only on German and not on a couple of other languages I was thinking of working on my spare time has taken a bit of the stress off. After it all becomes more fluid maybe I'll go back to one of them (Esperanto, well within my personal resolution), but that wouldn't be for quite a while yet anyway.

School has begun for me already. So far so good. I'm trying to think of ways to save money, namely by not eating in the cafeteria. I have a few bits of homework I have to do, and today I was a bit exasperated when I walked down to the bus stop, rode to the university, and then discovered that class had been cancelled. On the other hand, despite me doing all that, it was good, because I would have been an hour late anyway...Over the break I had forgotten that it was a two-hour long lecture and would have shown up for just the latter one.

I think things are going OK with the German people I know here in Cushanushaus, although sometimes they are hard to read. Sometimes I ask myself if I did something to make them ill towards me, or even just wanting to be more distant from me. Living in the same proximity that's always a possibility, but generally they strike me as kind-hearted and forgiving types, so if I did do something, hopefully in time we'd be cool again. I'm thinking of one example in particular where I stuck my foot firmly in my mouth with a friend here who I actually do very much respect and enjoy her company, but due to string of unfortunate mishaps for me, not to mention a bit of a hard time concentrating on what she was saying, due to just that, and also to the fact it was in German, I put myself in a rather awkward position. But in any case, that is life, and sometimes life goes *kerplunk* but it never stays there.

So. I hope all is going fine in the states. May this entry find everyone well.

Yours,
Tristan

First Post of '07

Dear Constant Readers,

Happy New Years to all of you! I hope it was well-spent. In my family New Years is not that big of a deal. If we are lucky, we spend it with relatives, but usually the with us the new year comes in with a whisper (and hence, leaves as such as well). One year we didn't even wait for it; I tried (one of my very rare attempts) to write a poem and then went to bed around 10 or a 11 pm (also something that's become increasingly rare for me).

I did end up deciding to accept my friend Katrin's invitation to visit her, and I'm glad I did. Her and I spent the New Year's in Cologne, as it was about a 45 minute drive from her house. We wanted to see an art musuem and I also wanted to finally climb to the top of the Cathedral tower, but for former was closed and the latter we didn't have enough time for. So, instead, her and I walked around the city, and got a little lost, before going back to the car and getting *really* lost trying to find her friend's appartment where we would spend the holiday.

Once we arrived safely, we and a few other of her friends, all had a dinner and then went to the Rhein and watched the Germans there explode fireworks (New Years is the largest fireworks holiday in Germany). It was kind of an interesting feeling to realize where I was, and the path that my life has taken. It was a bit humbling to come to terms with how fortunate I am to have the opportunities I have. As for the city itself, it was practically burning down. The best fireworks show I have ever seen before a few nights ago was in France for Bastille Day (their independence day, also in July, although I forget which day, but I think it might be the 17th), that was set to very good music and had explosions so powerful you could feel the concussions rippling through the air.

There was no such technique in Cologne, but under the influence of euphoria and thirst-quenching spirits, the feeling of spontanity was amazing. The sounds and looks actually reminded me of a war, in a way. For some people it probably felt like it, too, because I don't think that everyone should have been allowed to use the fireworks, especially when they launched rockets into the crowds or dropped wine bottles of the bridge (one landing a foot or so from us, right after an explosion landed equally near us). I was quite glad to be there.

I found Katrin's family to be very quiet, which was quite to my liking. They had a woodburning stove, which was also very much to my liking. It's one of the things I'm going to have to have when I have a house of my own, if I live in a suitable environment for it. Hopefully I will. Spending the past couple of weeks or so with two families has been a rewarding experience, and I'm glad I decided to take the chance to do so. But I am quite pleased to be back in Trier in my own room and bed again. I was missing it.

Today was the first whole day I had back, and I spent most of it with Dylon, and most of the evening with Anna and Corinna. Dylon will be starting a job working in an Irish bar on Friday, so I might have more time to myself again, which is OK because I want to get some things done before I have to get ready for class again. But it's caused me to reflect, again, on money, and how I might need to find a job eventually. I don't know what I could really do, although I'm sure I could probably help as an English tutor for students who needed help. We'll see what happens.

I have made some New Years' Resolutions: The first one goes without saying: Learn German well. This is pretty broad, but as I have started my own German book collection, I need to get to reading more, one of my major follies of not doing when I learned Spanish, and one that still haunts me in terms of vocabulary and expressiveness. Which brings me to my second Resolution: learn Spanish better, basically a larger and more expressive vocabulary, as well as better grammar (finally master those pesky compound tenses). Two other languages I've also learned, but not fluently, come next: Finally bring both my Esperanto and Norwegian to fluency. I've both spent a good share of effort learning them, and I want to learn both of these languages better before moving onto a new one (probably French).

I know this all seems to contradict what I wrote a few weeks ago about taking a break from language-study, or at least a relaxation of stress from it, so I feel I should make this clear: First off, I don't know how "clean" of a break that will be anyway. I'll have to see how I feel about it. Also, I don't know if I'll even have time to get to all of this this year. Another thing is that I am not a beginner in any of these languages, so it gives me the advantage of time and energy I'll be saving, plus by changing my overall attitude of just being easier on myself, that's perhaps most critical.

My other Resolutions have little to do with languages per se: Be easier on myself, cut back on my soda-pop intake (one which I need to work on in a serious way), and get into better shape by perhaps lifting some weights, although I won't be doing this until I get home I don't think. I would also like to hit the books on my reading list and maybe improve my sleep habits (earlier to bed and earlier to rise). Anyway, those are ideas, some of them, like the soda one, are definite goals, however.

I would like to write more short fiction, or just write in general. Sometimes I try to find inspirating in the world around, more the natural world, or just observing people's behaviour, like what I've mentioned before. It's tough, though, to express the feelings I get. I feel like there is a poetry inside of me, but I can't find the words for it. It's like the world around me has its own music, a melody of light (sunlight, starlight, nightlight, streetlights) that expresses itself very clearly and loudly, but without words. This is frustrating when I want to express it. It might be part of the reason why I enjoy drawing or why I want to try to get into painting, but I really would like to be able to write about it.

We aren't allowed pets in Cusanushaus, so I bought two wooden frogs that ribbit when you hit them with a stick. :-) I couldn't resist saying that, it's more like stroking them with a stick. I bought them at the Christmas Market with aims to make one of them a gift, but I've kind of gotten attached to them and might end up keeping the both of them. I showed them to some other hallmates and a few of them seemed to fall in love with these little wooden, and extremely realistic sounding critters. Otherwise, my constant companion when I live alone has always been a plant. It's not much for dialogue but it's nice to have the feeling that there is something else alive around.

Anyways, that's all for me from here.

I hope this finds you all well!

Sincerely,
Tristan