Judging Books

I woke up abruptly in the middle of the night to my German Frommer's Travel book falling five feet to its death, landing directly onto my stomach. It was so bizarre, and one of those moments where I must have reacted so quickly to this happening that it actually seemed I was conscious before the fall of impending doom. Needless to say, I took it as some what of a hint that maybe I should really go somewhere, plan SOME trip, because I don't have another obligation until Thursday (and even that is only for 15 minutes).

The pictures are of Oktoberfest last night. The first is me and my dinner; the second, me and my new friend Rachel! A bunch of us went after church because it's seriously a one- or two-minute walk from the fest. I failed to listen to me, and instead trusted the internet regarding weather for that day. "Sun? Seventy-six degrees Fahrenheit? Sounds good to me!" Too bad it ended up being overcast, cold, and...rainy. Man, was I chilly.

Rachel and I had met in the morning at Marienplatz and walked around looking for some brunch. We found a great spot with slow service, which ended up being most conducive to our needs to tell each other more about our lives while eating foccacia, florentinos, and pear torte. It's still taking some getting used to with so many stores being closed on Sundays--even restaurants. I often wonder what America would do. Actually, now that I think of it, I bet the first reaction would be from non-religious folk who temporarily cease mocking people of faith long enough to argue, "shouldn't 'we' get that off as a holy day???" Ha.

But seriously, it's such a different pace of life here. You're never ready for the slower parts; never ready for the quicker ones. Saturday I was shopping for groceries and at 6 pm, bells sounded and everyone had to pay for whatever they had and get the heck out of there. When I returned home I made some dinner, which I was excited to eat because I had successfully accomplished one fear of ordering meat at the counter. "200 gram, bitte." Two hundred ended up being too much, so I asked her to take away half of it. It was just some thinly sliced ham, no big deal. Well, I did what most people like me would do WHILE they're making dinner--eat, of course! So I ripped off a big slice of meat, tossed it in my mouth to taste of its deliciousness, and then swallowed somewhat timidly. I thought to myself..."Karen, you just need to get used to it; it's a little slimy but just get over it." No, cooked meats shouldn't be slimy. Yes, I had chomped on raw meat.

Earlier that day, something else happened I wasn't prepared for--I never expected I'd fall in love here...but...the truth is I have. The name? KARE. Yes, a large resemblance to my own. Where did we meet? Oh, just on the street. I was walking by, and couldn't help but stare. Finally I went into the store, and discovered it was meant for me. I have been describing it as Urban Outfitters meets IKEA. It's just...stuff. Beautiful things to decorate homes with. Dishes. Artwork. Little books and such. For several moments I was quite sad. Sad because I was having feelings towards a store. Sad because I can't buy anything there to really enhance my Munich home. And even more sad because when I decorate my own first home, I won't be able to shop at KARE.

Off I go, into the day. I hope you are well and in good health. Finally, my wish is that the meat you eat today is actually ready to be eaten.