And I Will Miss You Most of All

Santa approved.

Yesterday in line at the grocery store a dime fell out of my wallet. The guy behind me picked it up, and in German made a comment about how it wasn't a German coin.

In my typical "I would rather pretend to understand what you are saying instead of just admitting I don't speak German" behavior, I smiled and nodded.

He soon realized I was totally faking it and asked me where I was from in English.

Then we fell in love.

Just kidding. But he did ask me a lot of questions about my life. After I told him I was leaving Berlin in a few weeks (I can't believe that's all I have left!), he pointed down to one of my purchases on the conveyor belt.

"I bet you're going to miss that," he said about my four-pack of Weihnachts Bier, aka Christmas Beer.

Oh boy you have no idea. When people ask me about my time here, I'm going to tell them the truth.

"I moved to Germany and fell in love. With the beer."

And then one single tear will delicately roll down my face while I remember our beautiful times together. Because it really is that good.

(I will not, however, recount any other stories of heartbreak because I have moved on and am now re-dead inside. Jaded Rachel 2012 Edition! Sure to be a real treat!)

German Thanksgiving Wasn't So Bad After All

Another Thanksgiving away from home has come and gone. Luckily it was full of friends and multiple helpings of sweet potatoes to make up for being thousands of miles away. Oh, and the Longhorns beat A&M. I was also thankful for that.

Ellen arrived on Thursday night from Spain, and although she was unfortunately delayed with a lost bag situation, we had a good mini-feast including turkey, gravy, sweet potatoes and green bean casserole. 

For a first time Thanksgiving cooking attempt in a foreign country, I have to say: I am amazing!!!! I am the best American ever! You all should be jealous you weren't here to experience it! I might have trouble over-compensating with braggery!

And on Saturday we had Round II. Americans, Germans, Austrians, Haitians and a French girl. We are pretty global after all. 

In addition to Thanksgiving, we also celebrated the start of Christmas Market season, something Ellen and I have been eagerly awaiting since approximately July. Spoiler alert: It was just as amazing as we'd hoped.

We kicked things off on Friday night at the Lucia Christmas Market at the KulturBrauerei in Prenzlauerberg. Even the drizzly weather couldn't dampen our excitement. (Ha.)

It was also the start of our Glühwein (mulled wine) tour where we learned that you can pay an extra euro or two to keep the mug. Aka our favorite souvies. Aka souvenirs. Aka really smart idea to bring back six coffee mugs when there might be a spatial issue with my suitcase.

Saturday morning we woke up with a mission. We had done our research, learned which markets started at what time, and planned accordingly. Up first was Alexanderplatz.

[You might recognize this clock from my masthead.] 

We'd heard this one was a little cheesy and touristy.

And it was.

But that doesn't mean we didn't enjoy ourselves. *Enjoy ourselves is code for "spend money"

[Obligatory "Rachel Stand Like A Statue" picture slash Berlin Bear pic.]

Next we made our way to Gendarmenmarkt in Mitte.

This market was definitely the most beautiful in terms of location with the tents nestled between some of Berlin's most historic buildings.

It also had the most random holiday entertainment, e.g. a guy singing Lou Reed's "Walk on the Wild Side".

And it was the only place where I saw dogs whose facial expressions made me keel over with laughter. I mean, if these Mops don't make you smile then you should probably skip the Christmas season all together because your heart is clearly made of stone.

Our final stop of the day was at the Schloss Charlottenburg Markt across town. 

 

It was interesting to see how each market, although selling similar (or the exact same) things, all had different atmospheres. This one was more of the Palace-y feel with, you know, the palace serving as the backdrop. 

 

 

It was a great weekend. I am currently trying to determine how best to pack up all of my loot (which includes gifts for others!) and haul it back Stateside. I keep reminding myself that it shouldn't be that hard. I mean, if Santa can can do it, it has to be possible. Oh wait, shit.


Hopefully everyone else had a great Thanksgiving too! 
And hooray for the official start of the holiday season!

Happy Thanksgiving, Germany, Thanks For Nothing

All I have to say is that this better be the only damn Thanksgiving I am required to work ever!

Email me!!!

But I have prepared a feast for when Ellen arrives tonight, and on Saturday some pals are hosting a Friendsgiving meal too. So I guess I will survive...

Remembering Felicity

A few months ago, my cousin made a Felicity reference about Noel inviting everyone's favorite curly haired heroine to go to Berlin with him. Having not thought about that show in for-ev-er, a wave of nostalgia passed over me.

This weekend with no big plans and the onset stages of a cold leaving me with little energy, I decided to jump in the deep end of late-nineties' memories. Seventh grade to be exact. 

I had forgotten so much about what happened in the show. I had blocked out how totally insane Felicity was in those first few episodes. (Watching that horrible display of CGS could not have been good for me at that young, impressionable age.) 

It made me miss that feeling of moving to New York, getting your ass kicked, and then falling in love with it. It made me wish I were back in college, naive about the impending real world. It made me worry that soon Felicity would cut off all her hair! If only I could go back to stop her! (I haven't gotten to that episode yet, thank God.)

Re-watching it all felt weird. It wasn't the same. Then, about half way through the first season, it hit me. My original viewing of these episodes took place years before my first boyfriend. Before my first heartbreak. Before my first kiss even. I was literally a different person. It was a another world.

I remember being devastated when Ben liked Julie instead of Felicity. I had been there! I loved popular guys from afar too! Does this mean they won't fall in love with me one day? What if I make a really big effort?

I realize now, the answer is no, they will never like you. Get over it. While Ben does have perfect hair, he is kind of a moron. He basically has no real personality. He's not even a brooder. He's just sort of there. Sitting under a mop of beautiful hair. Much like the middle-school crushes of yeaster-year, he probably won't amount to much. You can do better. You will do better.

 
I remember thinking that it was so cool to live in that co-ed dorm full of interesting people. With your own answering machine! People leaving notes for you on your door. All those parties! So much drama right down the hall!  

OMG can you even imagine how they managed to actually make plans without cell phones? Always asking "Did you get my message?" How could she, Noel, if she wasn't in her room? Oh the humanity being tethered to that cord. Having spent my first year in an all girl's dorm living with The BFF (things got a lil' dicey toward the end), I can tell you if we had added the presence of guys in that situation, it would not have ended well. Thank goodness Towers was just down the block. (The UT freshman dorm equivalent to Animal House. Sigh. The good ol' days.)

I remember wondering why Felicity wore so many damn sweaters. Coming from Austin, where there are approximately eight brisk days of fall/winter per year (which I really, really miss btw), I just did not understand this fashion choice. And those horrible long, colored-denim skirts. Terrible. But I always liked her leather backpack.

I don't hate all of her bulky sweaters! They are kind of 2000-and-late, right? Plus New York is cold. I bet those dorm rooms are draftp And the backpack is still timeless.

Maybe it's the cute Chosen One vibe?

I remember feeling so betrayed when Noel's stupid girlfriend Hannah showed back up. (Jennifer Garner has never had a more vilifying role.) SHE RUINED THEIR LOVE! Then oh no Felicity, don't do it. Don't sleep with beautiful bad boy artist played by porn-star-turned-"serious"-actor Simon Rex! Even though he is wearing a really cool necklace and wants to "draw you"! Noooo, how could you do that, slut??

The minute Simon's character made his debut, my brain immediately screamed, "Sexy Andy Samberg!!!!" And then it was ruined for me. Actually, no, Noel ruined it for me. Um hello, what did you expect Felicity to do when you left with stupid duck-faced Hannah? Don't you dare blame this on her. Having actually had my heart crumpled by basically a replica of ugly-shirt-wearing, "I'm a nice guy, I swear" Noel last fall, I have zero pity for him. Good riddance, Felicity. You can do better. Plus Simon is undeniable hot. Even though I will now subtract points for the pooka shells, and the portrait sketch she gives up her v-card for is comparable to what you can buy in Central Park for $20, I don't blame her. Noel is the worst!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

So, if you are faced with hours of uninterrupted time, I would totally recommend revisiting an old favorite. It is amazing how thirteen jaded years can change your perspective.

I leave you with the best quote of the entire show:

Felicity: "Why do you have a webpage?" 
Noel: "Why does anyone have a webpage? Too much free time, not enough friends, justify owning a computer."

Bwahahhaa. Basically sums this blog up prettttty well, huh?

Channeling Tommy Fresh: Treat Yo' Self 2011

I don't know what it is about the start of Christmas shopping season, but every year I cannot get through it without buying a bunch of presents for myself first. Because I am the worst.

I used to feel guilty about it, until I saw this episode of Parks & Rec:




So I've decided to do what I do best: Justify my ridiculous behavior. This weekend I embraced the Treat Yo' Self philosophy. Curious what sorts of material happiness I've bribed myself with?

1. J.Crew Lodge moccasins in vibrant coral

Because I might have some lodge needs in my future...

2. J.Crew Edie pursette

With the MUSTHAVE 30% off sale code it was practically free.

3. Airplane tickets to Paris!

Ellen and I are meeting halfway between Malaga & Berlin
to continue our Christmas market tour!

4. Mentos

In hindsight, these were a mistake. I think I might have broken my jaw.
But sometimes you want what you want.

5. LillyBerlin lamp [TBD which one...but I have given myself a mental gift certificate to purchase a lampshade from this adorable store down the street before I leave.]

 The hardest part will be deciding on which one. Here are a few of my favorites:

This is a pretty signature Rachel color

I heart this, but does that make me a small child?

This would be kind of an "adult choice", right?

There is nothing better than this.

Now that I have this behind me I can focus on others...hopefully.

You Spin Me Right Round

Last weekend a friend shared her sage dating perspective with me. Apparently due to my "unsettled energy" I tend to attract guys with the same qualities. There I am in all of my tornado-esque glory, chaotically rotating with someone else. Neither of us with anything to tether us to the ground. 

And honestly, I have really loved this about my life during the past few years. I am happy to be flexible, waiting for the next thing that comes along. If I had been in a permanent place, I never would have been able to come to Berlin. I would have missed out on this experience. 

But now I am at a cross roads. What's next? Do I choose to make "life" decisions pinning me to a specific place? Am I ready to commit to the idea of one "future" with the hopes that I will find someone with the same plan?

Some mornings I wake up and think yes! Other days I roll over and go back to bed.

This is the kind of crap you find on Pinterest.

Is the energy you send off into the universe what you get back? Truth or SATC content filler I choose to ponder due to lack of anything else interesting in my life to share?  A little of Column A, a little of Column B?

My Weekend As A Glorified German Exchange Student

After my trip to Austin, I will be honest, I was not the least bit excited (read: not at all happy) to return to Berlin. And then I punched myself in the face. Because I have a month left in a great foreign country, when am I ever going to have this opportunity again? Suck it up and enjoy it, you idiot.  

And that's what I did last weekend. I overcame my genetic predisposition toward laziness, and when presented with an invitation to do something, I made myself say YES.

This went into effect on Friday when I made an effort to join a few work acquaintances and their friends to go out for Carnival. Not only that, I invited this group of relative strangers over to my flat ahead of time. Partially because I had far too many bottles of Prosecco (or Sekt as they call it) in my fridge, but mostly as a reason to stop living like a slovenly homeless person. When you have no roommate to yell at you about unpacking, a suitcase can stay in the middle of your hall for a really long time, so I've learned. (In general, I only clean for company, a life long lesson attributed to my mother. But that's better than never, right?)

The night turned out to be really fun with six of us sitting around my 90s mod East German living room. Although we spent plenty of timing researching Carnival parties around Berlin, it soon became clear that the thought of bracing the cold to pay money at a club was not particularly desirable. Fine by me - the 3am commute to your bed from the living room is far superior to any other option.

Although it was fun to do something other than wallow in my own self pity, the big takeaway from the night is how a lot of my life in Germany is sort of like watching a US movie set in a foreign country. The actors have Euro accents, but they're speaking English. It's not natural. You know that if the purpose wasn't for you to understand then they would be speaking in their mother tongue. So in situations such as that evening, those talking to me would speak English, but others having a separate conversation would revert back to German. Just because they know English doesn't mean they prefer to speak it. I get it.

The other big language lesson I learned was on Saturday night. My friend Ulli, the one who I have known since working with her in New York, invited me to go to her parents' house in Jena (south west of Berlin). A chance to see a new German city? The opportunity to meet her family? An excuse for a train ride? Check, check, check. No brainer.

It was great, although an entirely new level of language barrier to face. Even though her family members have a good understanding of English, they don't really speak it. So we tried some to communicate, with Ulli as our translator, but to be honest, I enjoyed my role as a silent observer.

Since her parents had agreed to make a favorite family meal of homemade pelmeni (Russian dumplings aka the world is global), her brothers and sisters and their significant others all joined in too. Seated around a large table, all I could think about was how I felt like I was part of a table read with German actors. There was something about the flow of conversation, the interjections, the pauses and the laughter that were too well-timed for it to be real life. Maybe the fact that I only got about 30% of what they were saying helped make these other aspects more heightened in my mind. Either way, it was an experience.

They next day I saw the sites of Jena, which is the birthplace of the shot glass. Unfortunately it was Sunday therefore the shot glass MUSEUM was closed, but I was just happy to know it exists somewhere in the world.

As we walked through town I kept making Ulli stop when I saw something "German" enough to warrant a photo. Here are a few pictures.

But Who Will They Cast?

Romantic comedies are inherently bad. I know having seriously studied them during the decade of 1994 - 2004 where I saw every unrealistic 90 minute love affair that was shown "at the mall" or "the theater across the street from the mall". This time conveniently coincided with a wallet full of babysitting spending money and nothing better to do.

But from all those movies, whether the object of desire was young and handsome, nerdy and cute, or dashing and British, in the end, the guy would fall for the girl. It didn't matter that my already pragmatic mind would be nagging, "But what will happen next? How will they make it work?" I still fell for the story every time.

So it's because of this that whenever someone's response to one of my stories is "Wow your life is just like a romantic comedy" I get a twinge of hopefulness rather than the thought that perhaps I should be rethinking my life decisions.

This is especially unfortunate for me considering it's never the recap of the great, romantic date that prompts someone to compare me to Julia Roberts. (For the record I have never been in a prostitute-esque situation that would warrant a Pretty Woman comparison, but it is a fantastic movie, right?)

No, the leading lady on the tip of everyone's tongue is almost always BRIDGET JONES. Sad, but true. Unfortunately so very, very true last week. I shouldn't have told anyone, but I did. I mean, when you experience a real life movie-montage moment, you have to share, right?

Luckily this time, my Bridget moment didn't involve getting sprayed by dirty water. But it doesn't mean it was pretty. Okay fine, here it goes:

There is sad Rachel in her bathrobe. Sad Rachel is listening to the radio, waiting for the tub to fill. She is wearing a green mud mask in an ill-timed attempt to battle winter's cruel effects. Luckily she lives alone so no one can comment on how terrible she looks, but she knows it to be true. That's unfortunately not even the worst of it. There on the counter is a container of American frosting she had smuggled back in her suitcase, meant to be used for brownies, but who needs to go to the trouble of baking these days? Instead she is eating her feelings with a tiny, delicate German spoon. And then, if things could not get any more pathetic, the radio switches songs. Adele's "Someone Like You" begins. The first few chords play. There is no stopping it. Sad Rachel knows has no control over her emotions when the haunting heartache of Adele infiltrates the airwaves. By the time the chorus starts, "Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead," she is full-on sobbing. Her green face bobbing up and down, stuffing itself with chocolate to suppress the tears. There is no denying that this is a low point. 

You can totally picture that scene being in the movie right? Good ol' rock bottom. But Bridget comes out pretty well on the other side. She ends up with Mark F'ing Darcy. And I think we can agree that you can do a hell of a lot worse than Colin Firth.

So this holiday season my Christmas wish lists consists of a tall, handsome man in a reindeer jumper. You hear that, mom? Start shopping.

Size L or XL, please.

PS: I have already linked to this before, but this Mindy Kaling article (and chapter from her book) about types of women in romantic comedies is perfection. God I love her.

How Will This Carnival Turn Out?

The idea of celebrating the start of Carnival Season on November 11, or 11.11.11, was first brought to my attention six months ago at an outdoor wine bar in Murray Hill. The client who had championed my onsite work in Germany was visiting New York and over drinks, she brought up the possibility of us having a meeting in Cologne, home of German Carnival, in order to be in town for the festivities.

That was the only time the two of us discussed making the trip, but a few months later the idea would come up with someone else. The German had worked in Cologne before moving to Berlin, and Carnival became one of many "We should do that's".

Once I realized it would fall on the same week as my Texas excursion I knew it would never happen, but then the suggestion of taking part in the Berlin parties was thrown out there too. "We should do that."

The German was the king of "we." "We should go to Hamburg." "We should eat at that restaurant." "We can go to the aquarium." (Tip: Do NOT get my hopes up about sea creatures!)

And now all these unresolved "we"s continues to bug me. Not just that they didn't happen, but his motivation for saying them in the first place. Did he ever have any intention of following through? Or is he just one of those guys who is reckless with the "we"?

I also can't help but wonder why he did anything at all. All of the well-documented niceties, his apparent interest in making me happy. If he didn't have strong feelings for me then, what was the motivation for creating scenarios where they might grow? If he could walk away at any point, why did he make it so much harder for me when he did?

These are the questions that I can't shake. Well those, and wondering if maybe his decision had anything to do with the fact I've gained five pounds, or perhaps it's that I was too cavalier about being fresh faced in front of him? Would exercise and makeup have made the difference?

Now I know I'm headed in a bad (CGS) direction, drunk from a self-debilitating cocktail of lingering jetlag, PMS pity, and an unshakable headache.

But I am too proud to ask any of these questions. The additional rejection would sting more than its worth. What would be the point?

Luckily, though, there is a little silver lining. Today is Friday and there is still a chance I might make it to a few Carnival parties after all. I have a month left, might as well make the most of it right?

Lorraine Y Tomas

The sentiment "Lauren stole my dream wedding" was uttered by at least one person and felt by many, including me, a girl whose camp experiences were limited to that of the "yearbook" or "church youth group" variety and thus never dreamed of having a camp wedding herself. I didn't know it was an option! Now I can say: It's a great option!

Awhile back, Lauren wrote a guest post about how hard/stressful wedding planning can be, especially when you try to make everything Style Me Pretty-esque beautiful. Let me tell you, her hard work paid off. All the details, from the customized Mexican banners to the outdoor leather chairs to the dock from which I came very, very close to falling in a pond during pictures, were stunning.

Being only an hour outside of Austin, Camp Balcones Springs was a perfect choice as a mini-destination in Marble Falls. Plus we got to stay in cabins. Cabins! Best of all, in terms of getting a second chance at camp experiences, I even found myself a camp boyfriend. What makes a camp boyfriend you may ask? The main factor is that your love stays at camp. And considering this guy lives in Oklahoma, it is fairly certain I will never see him again. (Which is preferable when your camp boyfriend is also a rebound...)

Anyway, here is a short recap of some of my favorite things from the weekend:

• Being there for Lauren and Thomas' special day.
• Choking back laughter when the priest, whose first language was definitely not English, kept referring to them as Lorraine y Tomás.
• Seeing my Austin pals.
• Gossiping about boys with aforementioned pals.
• Margaritas, queso, Tex-mex, guacamole, more margaritas.
• Post-rehearsal dinner dance parties that play R. Kelly's Slow Motion, which will probably be the first dance at my wedding because that song is so timeless, right?
• Receiving a "compliment" from one of your best friends about how 'you're SO awkward at dancing, yet you still manage to get guys!' (I feel like this would be a good quote for the back of my not-yet-written autobiography.)
• Having the weather be freezing one day and 75 the next.
• The adorable ringbearer and flower girl singing the ABCs with a bunch of people in their mid-20s before the ceremony because a) it's a song we all know and b) it never hurts to brush up.
• The fact I did not die from jet lag. Yet.

Rehearsal dinner. Looooved her dress.

Perfecto for the Mexican cocktail hour.

New signature solo shot pose showing off my BFOH corsage.

Oh look, it's catching on!

Doesn't she look like Barbie?

Too cute.

Color scheming.

Hill Country sunset

It was a whirlwind trip, but well worth it. 

Girl Crush: Mindy Kaling

I have a new friend. By friend, I mean celebrity girl crush with whom I would love to laugh with over brunch. Mindy Kaling, triple threat actor/writer/director for The Office, wrote a book which I knew would be amazing. I have been building it up to myself and others for weeks (months?).

Luckily Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? lived up to my incredibly high expectations and proved to be the perfect entertainment for my trip back to Austin. I started it on my first flight, and the next thing I knew, I was more than halfway done with it. Since I pretend like do this new thing called “implore self control”, I tried to pace myself. You shouldn’t read a whole book in one sitting. You need to savor the humor. Let it marinate in your mind.

And that is sort of what I did. Mostly because one flight would end, forcing me to put it down and go through security again because clearly that is necessary, Chicago. But either way, Mindy was a great travel buddy. Assuming you take all of my recommendations very seriously, please go buy the book right now so we can talk about it. Kind of like the best book club ever because it’s the only way to ensure I read the book on time. In case you forgot, it's all about me.

Anyway, one thing I like about Mindy is that she doesn’t intimidate me. I would pee my pants if I met Tina or Amy. Chelsea would probably humiliate me while she peed her own pants (if you’ve read any of her books you know this is a signature Handler move), but Mindy just seems like someone who I would totally assume wanted to be my best friend until she awkwardly had to remove my hand from her shoulder and be all “You seem like you could be funny, but I have to go now…”

Which is exactly what I’m looking for in a new pseudo potential celebrity best friend.

P dot S: Turns out Mindy wrote one of my absolute favorite Office episodes where Michael burns his foot on his George Foreman grill. Please enjoy this genius:

Michael Scott: “I enjoy having breakfast in bed. I like waking up to the smell of bacon, sue me. And since I don't have a butler, I have to do it myself. So, most nights before I go to bed, I will lay six strips of bacon out on my George Foreman grill. Then I go to sleep. When I wake up, I plug in the grill. I go back to sleep again. Then I wake up to the smell of crackling bacon. It is delicious, it's good for me, it's the perfect way to start the day.”

You cannot deny the logic.

Update: It's not just me! Fellow blogger, and person named Rachel, also recapped how much she liked the book too.