Today has been a waste. Jet lag is weird. Still, glad to be home, though the thought of another work week beginning tomorrow is utterly exhausting. All in all, had a deliriously good time. Only a couple things I wont miss. First, the hard water. Was taking about three times the quantity of the same conditioner that, used at home, makes my hair feel like pure silk to even be able to drag a wide toothed comb through it and not make me cry. I wonder if that has anything to do with the tendency of many German women to keep their hair very short. Second, chicken or egg question for you: do you think Germans have always been hardasses, or is did that start only after they started making toilet paper like that?
No, the Germans were very nice and hospitable. Especially the German-Italians. But the toilet paper is scary. Only one place we went (I guess I tend to pee nearly everywhere I go, is that odd?) had the typical cheap one-ply you see in every public restroom in the states. Mostly everywhere, it’s like that Brawny paper toweling you can repeatedly wet, wring out, and scrub an entire kitchen with. Seriously. Exactly like that. One bier garten had no paper towels by the sink, but using the toilet paper to dry your hands? Not at all an absurd idea, as it would be here. Exactly like a not-shitty-cheap paper towel here. Weird. So yeah, sorry. I’m not quite back up to speed yet. I made a point to carry a little notebook and jot down funny things and notables, all wannabe-writerish, so I do have semi-coherent things to say about the experience, but right now all that comes to mind are the basics and the most basic differences and I have not even unpacked my phone charger, let alone found that little notebook. Best food thing about being home? Beef. No room for good grazing, still scared as shit about mad cow disease = no good beef. Too bad, so sad. Best German food thing? Hmm. Too many. The abundance of Italian food, hah. The actual cream-colored cream for kaffe. The constant option of mit oder ohne when offered water. Mayo proffered under the title of French fry sauce. The chocolates on my pillow. Oh, the chocolates. Red wine served by the liter. My friend places the order, and the waiter asks what I’ll be drinking. Hah. I think that should get us going to start. If you finish the liter, they bring prosecco, gratis. Pretty fucking sweet.