My mom agreed to go halfsies on my new tattoo, which will be a chest piece that I will still be able to cover up with a t-shirt or something. I had the design picked out and everything, and had decided to check out the top rated shop in Munich, Wild at Heart.

I headed out to some obscure part of town I had never ever been to on the bus and walked in the shop, which was clean and well-decorated. Three of the artists were sitting around the front desk shooting the shit and smoking cigarettes (first alarm bell - I don't think this is a giant risk, but I still think it's not 100% sanitary, and I would rather the shop be cleanliness fascists than not). I asked them if anyone spoke English and they pointed to a guy who was in his 30s. His name was Mac and he was Irish and he was smoking a joint (second alarm bell - I have absolutely no problem with weed, but I think it's incredibly unprofessional to smoke it while you're at work, especially if that job involves permanently modifying someone. I know some people "work better" with weed, but still, it made me uncomfortable). I talked with him about what I wanted, got an estimate, only to find out he was booked until November. I actually felt kind of relieved, because I didn't like the way he talked with me about it. He suggested adding too many things and I felt that he tried to add his own tastes too much - He really liked Mucha and Art Nouveau and I was like no thank you. He said if one of his customers canceled (she was late to their appointment that day) he would call me within two hours. I asked him if he could recommend any other shops in the area. He was like "Psh. No. Well, maybe this one in Pasing, but you can only speak to the guy at specific times of the day, and there are usually five other people waiting for him." He didn't ever call me, so I sort of gave up.

After sleeping on it I decided to keep looking, and that getting a tattoo from an English speaker was kind of not ideal. If I'm getting a tattoo in Germany to commemorate being here, I should probably go to a German. I looked up some info about another reputable shop, Medusa, which was a lot closer, and decided to check that out. It was tucked away behind Marienplatz. The shop was clean, had some pretty standard but not boring flash on the walls, and some nice body jewelry for sale. A tall, blonde woman (who I would lovingly describe as a "battledyke") was at the counter. She greeted me, saw that I was looking at the portfolios and asked if I had a specific subject in mind. I told her I already had a drawing and would like to see the artist's portfolios. Of course, I messed that up in German, but she was like oh you mean blah blah and I was like yeah. She let me browse the books at my leisure, and then we got to talking business. She was actually a piercer and didn't speak English, but we managed to communicate pretty well despite my lackluster German tattoo vocabulary. She recommended I make an appointment with Adry, who was very good at filigree and floral (among other things). I paid a deposit and a fee for the drawing and she said I could come back around the 26th to see the finished drawing and make any changes. The first half of my tattoo would be on the 12th.

Overall I got good vibes from this place. Of course I still have to meet my actual artist, but by then hopefully I will have a better means of explaining what I want. The price was not cheap, but I've been saving money for a long time. It's the same in euros as what it would be in American dollars, but with this shit exchange rate it's going to be by far my most expensive tattoo. I'm also excited to have a woman artist. Not just because this tattoo hits real close to the tits and I'll most likely have to take my shirt off, but also because SOLIDARITY or whatever. Unfortunately I have a freaking seminar two days after my first appointment, so I'm going to be walking around with half a tattoo for at least a week. Also the train ticket for this seminar is alarmingly expensive. Also it's in one of the biggest shit holes in Germany: Duisburg. But I say that about every city we go to.

I think my apartment is flooding because there is a huge section of carpet that's wet and it seems to be growing. There is nothing I can do about this until tomorrow morning.

Last night I went out with Sean, Andri, his girlfriend Evi and Brian. We had a pretty good time. Andri did not like the S'mores poptarts I got him. I don't think I will like his fermented haggis-esque Icelandic delicacy that he got me.

Tomorrow I will hopefully be getting lunch with Katy, and figuring out where my classes are. Two are in museums I've never been to.

Four months. I can do this!

The construction workers on the scaffolding outside my window (the 15th floor) are very nice. My apartment is small and the bathroom is something out of 2001. It is made entirely of 1 piece of plastic (even the toilet). Like a port o potty with a shower sort of. A small stove and a small fridge and no oven and lots of random pieces of cookware including a pan without a handle and a disproportionate amount of knives. Casey used one of them to dig gravel out of his hand. I don't have any drawers but I can open my windows completely and when the scaffolding is gone I'll have a beautiful view of a small forest and smokestacks. I can smoke in here, too. At least I think I can. I asked a woman in an office if I could and she went on a five minute rant about how German laws are so much better than American ones. I found the deodorant the german exchange student that lived next door to me wears. It smells amazing. It's like spray deodorant.

I have kind-of sort-of made friends. There is a metal boy from Florida who is sort of my partner in the VDAC exchange thing, we have been filling out paperwork and going to offices together. His younger brother is staying with him. Casey and I went to Oktoberfest with them and we all got really drunk and had a good time. Two liters of strong Bavarian beer is a challenge. Bavarian culture is an interesting thing. Around this time of the year it is not unusual to see people in Lederhosen and Dirndls just strolling around. They take their traditional clothing very seriously - a cheap pair of Lederhosen costs around 250 euros. You can tell by a woman's apron if she is single or not. Taken women tie their bows on the right. The pretzels are huge and plentiful and the Leberkaes is neither liver nor cheese. I don't want to know what it is. People seem more conservative here. More German, if you will.

I met a group of Americans this morning and told them to add me on facebook later so we could party. I feel like I've been thrown to the wolves because my consultant woman isn't helping me do shit. Now, I can understand if she expects me to be good at German, but honestly, bureaucratic German is an entirely different beast, and expecting a foreigner to navigate endless paperwork is kind of...cruel. But that's how we improve ourselves. It is difficult at first, but eventually I will be done and starting classes.

I really wish I had some weed but Bavarians don't smoke. I may get a supply when I go back to Berlin for orientation. At least I can drink, but that's no fun by yourself. Case y leaves in a few hours and my apartment will feel very lonely. I could technically ask my mother to come back - its only four hours away to her boyfriend's house - but I would feel guilty, and ultimately it will be better if I figure things out for myself. Speaking of Berlin, I really don't want to go do the bullshit group activity oh-look-there's-the-Reichstag crap.

It was really beautiful at momboyfriend's house. He lives in a small town half an hour away from Mainz, in a house that is older than America. They feed the chickens everything (including chicken and eggs). There is a walnut tree and a trampoline and twice a day they take the dogs for a walk in the countryside. There are wind generators and vineyards everywhere. Mainz was amazing too. I met my mother's uncle who is the Minister of Culture. We clicked instantly because he is just as crazy about Medieval art as I am. He took us to all the main sites and we got in for free and it was awesome and he knew everybody. I want to go back again, because everything was so calm and comfortable and organized and safe there. But I have to stay here, and I have to make things work, and I have to get a residence permit and bahncard and register for classes and all that crap and eventually my german will improve, I know, but things just feel so bleak right now.

Of course, worrying about money too. I lost out on 120 euros because of a "misunderstanding" in Berlin. There's no such thing as a free lunch, people. I unfortunately do not have infinite funds and neither does my family. I understand the value of money because I have had to work for it and know the difficulty its absence presents. Why on earth phil thinks I would pay 250 euros for an apartment and also help pay for food for everyone is beyond me. The deal - which I stated multiple times - was that I would pay for the apartment, he and Casey would pay for food. I am sorry but I did not invite anyone along for free. I cannot afford that. I have to work for money and I go to school and take out massive loans and, you know, build myself up so that I can contribute my absolute best to society. So what if I like to drink and smoke when I'm on vacation with my friends. Chauncing out and doing moody brooding solves nothing. If you have a problem with people, tell them. Confront them. Work something out. That is how problems are solved. Not with innuendo and threats and the purile foot stomping that is more reminiscent of a five year old saying he's running away from home than a 20 something. So Phil, you owe me money and a power converter. I'm not going to threaten to beat you up. I would just really appreciate having my money back because I have to pay rent, insurance, utilities, public transportation and groceries and I can't legally work in Germany so the only source of money I have is my scholarship. That I worked very hard for. You may have never experienced this kind of thing, but trust me, it is not fun.

I had a dream everyone was telling me to shut up about being the uglier one. Every time I tried to say "But some people are in to it," I got punched. This was at a basketball game, where I had a bottle of gatorade that never ran out and was the perfect temperature and really delicious. When I woke up I was really thirsty because I was drunk the night before.

so if we can keep things just like this everything will be fine!

I knew if I stuck it out, if I kept my nose clean, and if I did the right thing I would eventually prevail. I was walking home from student health in the extreme humidity and gloominess with a heavy backpack thinking how much easier it would be if I still had my bike. I had talked to my grandmother the night before because I had been emailed by Frau Maczek about my scholarship and told my mom who told her and she was like "JA MEINE ELISE!" so I felt guilty that I didn't tell her it had been lost. She sounded so thrilled that I was finally going to Germany.

So anyway, walking home. Decide to take a shortcut in front of Harkness, the most notorious filthy naked hippy co-op on campus. I was looking at the bike rack (still not having given up hope) and saw my bike. With the same plastic bag tied in a bow on the handlebar. I think, oh, it's a trick of the eye, she's gone. But no! I had to see. It had the  same seat for fat asses, same rusty kickstand, and the same fucking lock. I tested the combo and it was it. So I guess my negligence to fully scramble the combination bit me in the ass. Nevertheless, I rode that baby all the way back to German house.

I considered posting to gloat on Ocon, but that's not very nice, and I hope the thief learns a lesson about taking what's not theirs.

That put me in a good mood for the rest of the day. We talked about van Gogh in 19th c art, and I was sort of disappointed, because he was nothing like what I imagined. He was not crazy, his crazy actions were the manifestations of some sort of epilepsy. By the time the attacks started happening he had already developed his style. Our professor was talking about how he really, really liked Japan and saw it as some kind of utopian paradise, and him and Gauguin would write letters to each other about how they were totally gonna buy this yellow house in Arles and live like Japanese monks but really be artists and it would be soooo cool. They painted self portraits for each other, where van Gogh made himself look like a Japanese monk:





and Gauguin fashioned himself some kind of roguish Jean Valjean figure.


(notice the 'les miserables' in the corner)

So with all this in mind and tired of staring at the professor's hands (v. nice) I imagined van Gogh as Dunderhead, the silly ginger nerd kid from high school, twitching on the floor and slicing off his ear, but still with that shit-eating grin on his face.

And the last bit of art history for right now:
Reading about some stuff in the Aachen cathedral for Longinus, I noticed they kept mentioning Stephaton, who is the sponge guy who played a nasty trick on crucified Jesus (he gives him vinegar). I freaked out and wondered how I could be so negligent as to ignore the frequent visual counterpart of my beloved Longinus. So I guess I have to look in to that now. I keep getting distracted in the library because I will be reading an article and then see a reference to something else and want to read that so I start reading that and think I should get back to work.

SOOOO soon to being over!

Nietzsche Family Circus

ha

"If you like sausage and respect the law, never watch either being made."

Jurassic Park still scares the shit out of me.

That is all.

take a deep breath. let's all be calm.

As I drove home last night on Aviation there was a dead deer on the road. Blood was everywhere. In fact, it may have been a horse, because there was so much blood.

I didn't get enough sleep but I just sat around all day, so that was nice.  I was troubled and straightened my hair because it relieves stress for me.

"You are excrement, but you can change yourself into gold."

Part of me wants to turn into a mystic and have rituals and stuff.

I want to go swimming with all my friends in some symbolic act of cleansing, but that's too much to ask for.