Irish Times

Alright, so due to the sheer volume of material I want to cover I've decided it will be much simpler if I break things up a little bit.  So, this post will be dedicated to my visit to Ireland and the week that preceded it.

As it happened I had one last weekend between France and Ireland during which I got to enjoy Hamburg without dealing with packing and other such craziness.  I took advantage of the sun and the free time to say my final goodbyes to my favourite part of Hamburg: the Alsterarkaden.  Once I had gotten myself some caffeine I set up camp on the steps of the canal, fished out my notebook and started sketching the far side.  When I had first arrived in Germany my work had gifted me with a small company notebook which evolved into something of a travel diary for me.  At first I put in directions, maps, and itineraries, but later I included passing observations, notes to include in my blog, and sketches of particularly interesting subjects.  It is now one of my favourite souvenirs from my trip.

The day was fairly pleasant and uneventful, though I became very irritated with some passing tourists.  You see, down in the canals is a great collection of birds.  Mostly pigeons and seagulls but also swans, all of whom are drawn to the bread hand-outs by locals.  These tourists, however, weren't passing out food.  Instead, they were approaching the human-desensitized wildlife and kicking at them until the focus of their cruelty flew away.  I quietly hoped that they would fall into the canal in the process, and resolved that if they did I wouldn't lift a finger to help them.

The other moment of note was while I was sketching away.  I was listening to Patrick Watson's "Mr. Tom" on my iPod, and there was a street performer about 25 metres away.  He was entertaining the crowd with torch throwing and balancing, and he added to the show by screaming theatrically/maniacally.  Just at that moment, church bells began to toll.  It was such a surreal moment.  It seemed like the kind of audio-mix you see in film sometimes, where the protagonist stares into the distance broodingly while the world whirls past in slow motion.  But, as always happens, the moment passed, and real life restarted.  Below is the Patrick Watson track, which (I think) was really what set the tone for the experience.

The week passed quickly, and next thing I knew it was Friday.  Most of my coworkers from Online were vacationing during my last week, so it was something of a last goodbye for me.  For lunch we all went out for sushi (I'm sorry to say it had nothing on sushi in Vancouver), followed by the best cupcake I've had.  Ever.  Which brings me to a piece of advice: if you ever find yourself in Hamburg, the best bakery of all time is Liebes Bisschen, and the best salad I've ever had the honour to consume can be found at Esszimmer.  You can never go wrong with a mound of fresh greens, great dressing, and baked goat cheese.  Sigh.

But back to Friday.  Anyway, that evening we had another company party.  My employers recently bought a smaller company, and so we had a mixer so all the new employees could get to know one another.  It was a lot of fun, though I got my ass handed to me at foosball.  Apparently that's pretty much all they do during their spare time.

I don't even remember what time I got home at, but luckily my flight wasn't until late afternoon the next day.  I made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare, though I was irritated to discover that the "low-cost" airline charged to check any baggage whatsoever.  Thanks for the heads-up guys!  During the flight I wound up flipping through the airline's magazine, which was strange because I never do that.  However, I wound up stumbling upon a little article about something called City of a Thousand Welcomes.  It is something of a tourism project which aims to build on Ireland's reputation for hospitality.  Basically you sign up online and it will pair you with a host; someone who is passionate about Dublin.  You meet up at a prearranged time and go for tea or a pint, and they personally welcome you to the city and provide you with helpful pointers on how to best enjoy yourself.  Tired of traveling alone all the time, I signed up for the next day.

And it was a good thing I did!  Because I had signed up on such short notice I wound up being hosted by the company's founder.  We met up close to Saint Stephen's Green and Grafton Street and then relocated to Bewley's, a beautiful coffee shop right on Grafton Street.  If I remember correctly, the place was built in the late 19th century.  One of its most striking features is the stained glass windows, created by a famous Irish artist.  Unfortunately I didn't get a chance to get photos of them.  Anyway, in the end I was really pleased I had signed up.  I had a pleasant time with my host, who was happy to provide a wealth of personalized advice on what to do while I was in Dublin.

I spent most of the rest of the day doing a little exploring and shopping around the Grafton Street area.  I also got to stroll through St. Stephen's Green, a famous local park. That night I had planned on making a visit to the world-renowned Temple Bar Pub.  And venture out I did.  Unfortunately the weather had other plans for my night.  It had started raining heavily in the early afternoon, and by the time I left my hotel this had turned into a full-out gale.

Now I'd like to throw in a word about navigating in Europe.  Unlike in North America, where street names can be located on posts on every street corner - where they are readable and helpful - in Europe (I noticed this in both France and Ireland) street names can most of the time be found on small plaques placed on the second level of buildings on intersections.  Not every corner though, oh no.  So, you may find yourself at an intersection and the only way of figuring out where you are is by scanning the surrounding buildings, which may or may not have plaques on them.  Now imagine trying to do this at night, when the rain is blowing so strongly that you've lost count of the number of times your stupid umbrella has flipped inside out. Furthermore, crosswalk signals in Europe operate with different timing. Specifically one is allowed about twenty seconds to get across the road, but once this window is passed you will likely have to wait a good ten minutes or so until the next crossing. Apparently Europeans just ignore this and cross the road whenever they damn well feel like it and waiting around is the unmistakable mark of a tourist. I, however, have a strong respect for the damage vehicles can do to the human body and am more often happier to wait the two extra minutes rather than take a risk in areas where I'm totally unfamiliar with the traffic patterns.  To sum up, navigating was endlessly frustrating.

I wandered around the streets just long enough to get thoroughly wind-blown, bedraggled and angry.  To boot, Irish men - unlike German men - have no issue with voicing their admiration of passing women: a "pleasantry" which was rather unappreciated in my windswept and disoriented state.  Plus they were all like 50.  I got completely lost and wound up just giving up on finding the damn place.  Once back at my hotel I headed down to the bar where I nursed a whiskey sour while glaring at the rugby game playing on the TVs.

Weather-wise, the next day was more of the same.  The day started rainy and got progressively worse.  Despite the foul conditions I wandered over to Trinity College Dublin where I saw the Book of Kells (a medieval-era illuminated copy of the New Testament) and the "Long Room".  The exhibit showing in the Long Room was on the court of Louis XIV and consisted largely of books.  The Long Room was another of my favourite places from my European tour.  The photo (like most photos) doesn't quite do it justice.  The atmosphere is much more murky as the windows are all covered over to protect the books. The sense of space inside is so special though - it's the type of place I'd love to have a few hours to camp out within and just take in the surroundings.  The book of Kells exhibit was also really interesting, and included several video displays which demonstrated the medieval technique of book-making.  I was particularly interested in the ways in which the personalities of the various scribes and artists manifested in their different styles of ornamentation and writing.

 

Unfortunately shortly after I left Trinity College and was making my way down Grafton Street the weather took a serious turn for the worse. Once my boots had become thoroughly soaked I decided to go back to my hotel and wait to hear from my one contact in the country, a gentleman I had been introduced to during my visit to Düsseldorf.

Unexpectedly I wound up having a thoroughly lovely afternoon. Having become slightly chilled from all the rain, I headed for the shower and set up my laptop to play some of my favourite jazz. It was a big shower and I wasn't pressed for time, so I wound up laying on my back and singing along (the shower is the only circumstance in which I will sing) to Billie Holiday, Julie London, and Ella Fitzgerald.  While I had had several frustrations leading up until that moment, I couldn't help but feel completely contented and at ease.  I was in Ireland, a place I've dreamt of visiting for the last six years.  While Dublin wasn't my first choice - I've always been more interested in Ireland's smaller, pastoral, southern communities - it was Ireland nonetheless and I was euphoric.

After taking a good long shower I reluctantly got out and began the grooming process, starting with drying my newly-auburn hair.  Thanks to a spark of intuition (and some common sense) I delayed on getting dressed or putting on makeup, suspecting that thanks to the now-flooding conditions (thanks, Irish weather!) my acquaintance would be cancelling our dinner date.  Well, I was right, and though I was disappointed I decided to take advantage of being stuck inside and do something decadent. So, I ordered room service and snuggled in my jammies (yes, I still call them that).  I was thoroughly impressed by the hotel's clam chowder, and their cheesecake was also good though nothing to brag about.  I was less impressed by my entertainment of choice: Pan Am. Eugh, that'll be on the chop-block soon enough I'm sure. I was hoping for something like Mad Men and instead I got something along the lines of The Playboy Club, which I couldn't even finish one episode of.

I can't even begin to express how excited I was the next day when I woke up to sunshine! Feeling elated by the beautiful weather I got dressed as fast as I could and started out for all the landmarks I had wanted to see but hadn't yet. I started with Christ Church Cathedral, which has turned out to be one of my favourite parts of my whole trip.  Built up on the foundations of an older church, it is a sprawling structure with gorgeous stonework and a wonderful atmosphere. I finally got to experience sun streaming through stained-glass windows, and I took a lot of time just taking it all in.  It also has a great crypt which you are able to explore.  Christ Church was a popular filming site for the television series The Tudors, and in the crypts were several of the costumes that appeared in the series. Another surprise I found in the crypt was an exhibit of a mummified cat and rat.  The pair had become trapped in the cathedral's organ in the 1850s, and when they were finally discovered they were in a mummified state. It sounds terribly morbid but it was actually very interesting.

 

Attached to Christ Church Cathedral is a museum which explores the viking presence in Ireland over the centuries. While vikings aren't my favourite history subject it was an interesting exhibit (though more aimed at families I think) and I even got to learn how to write my name in "futhark", ancient viking runes.  After that I wandered over to Liffey river and the north shore.  I made it over to the Ha'Penny Bridge, as well as the 1785 Four Courts. I wandered along the (beautiful) river side and made my way up to a main traffic artery, O'Connell Street, and then up to the famous Henry Street where I managed to find some gifts for my family.  By that time it was well into the afternoon, so I made a brief stop at my hotel before returning to the sights on the south side of the river.  I got around to seeing 1752's Merrion Square, as well as (the exteriors of) the National Gallery (1864), Leinster House (1745), and the National Museum (1890).  Running out of time, I then hurried over to Saint Patrick's Cathedral, first built in the 1190s, but renovated and restored over the years.

This was another experience I wager I'll have for the rest of my life. I arrived just as the sun was setting, and as it so happened the young boys' choir was practicing. My camera died almost immediately after my arrival, but on the bright side this allowed me to enjoy the music without distraction. I quietly seated myself in the nave, basking in the glow coming from the high stained-glass windows. The choir's singing was nothing short of celestial. While I find traditional choir music moving under any circumstances and am also clearly in awe of medieval religious sites, the combination of the Gothic cathedral and the music that was specifically intended for that setting was nearly overwhelming. Though I am staunchly atheist I would absolutely attend church if every experience was like that. Amusingly enough, because it was a practice the priest would often interrupt the boys would loud criticisms and comments on what needed to be adjusted. While I would have loved hearing the music all the way through I must admit that it was rather funny listening to the very particular priest.  Unfortunately I couldn't stay long as the cathedral was closing, but I will always cherish the memory.

After leaving the Cathedral I wanted to complete one last thing on my to-do list: get fish and chips. The Irish Republic is certainly not England, and isn't even Britain, but I decided it was close enough and I desperately wanted to try fish and chips - a favourite of mine - in its native land. When I had met up with my City of a Thousand Welcomes host I had mentioned this, and he kindly recommended the best place to find some. Luckily this wasn't far off, so I picked some up en route to my hotel and was thoroughly satisfied.

My friend and I had rescheduled our dinner meeting for the next night, so once back at my hotel I got myself organized and waited for word.  Unfortunately due to a prior commitment we had to push back our meeting time, and I had a vague feeling that things might not come to happen at all. Sure enough the hours passed and with them went my certainty that we would be meeting up at all. Finally, at shortly before 11 he messaged me to let me know that his engagement had run long and he wouldn't be able to make it. I bitterly (and perhaps a little unfairly) thought to myself that that had to be a first: imagine getting stood up two nights in a row by the same person! To add salt to the wound, had I not expected to be seeing this person (I'll remind you: the only person I knew in the entire country) I likely would have chosen to visit a different part of the country more in alignment with my interests. I don't regret going to Dublin and I did enjoy much of what I saw there, but I didn't relish the "adjustments" to my social calendar.

The next day was once again sunny and clear, but for me it was off to the airport and back to Hamburg. Both the ride to the airport (via bus shuttle) and the flight were unremarkable (thank goodness), and I made it back "home" with no trouble at all; with only two days left at my workplace and less than a week to spend in Europe...

Fast track to Type 2

... Diabetes, that is!

Hey kids, long time no posts - I know.  The reason I'm finally getting around to it now is because today's diet consisted mostly of coffee, diet coke, and chocolate, so I am super hyper.  Hence the diabetes remark.  Anyway, since it's been so long since I updated I'm going to have to attack this by topic rather than chronologically.  I guess if you don't give a shit about my career then it'll make it that much easier to skip the boring part and get to the gossip, but otherwise you're just going to have to put up with some minor jumps in the narrative.

Work:  Okay, so nearly a month ago I moved from the Advertising department to the Design department called Ligalux.  As it turns out Ligalux is waaaaaay more like what I've done before, so my transition has been really smooth.  We mostly deal with logos, brochures, and, well, design.  I wish I could explain better what "design" is, but you kind of have to do it to know it.  A further improvement is that while in Creative we worked predominantly with Photoshop but in Ligalux we are more reliant upon InDesign and Illustrator, which are old friends of mine.  Yessssssss.  Work continues to be impressively fun as most of my days are spent enjoying my favourite music while doing some glorified doodles.  Doing layouts is less familiar to me, but creating logos is a really enjoyable challenge so they balance out nicely.  This week I've been working on creating gift cards, and I have an idea I'm pretty excited about - let's hope it gets picked up by the client!

As for the people they're all pretty nice, but I haven't gotten to know them as well as I got to know the Advertising guys.  I think part of it is because I actually know what I'm doing now and so I rarely have to ask for help.  Also, while we get together for lunch fairly often we don't do it every day so I have had fewer opportunities to get to know them.  On top of that Ligalux has a wider age range and the employees are more into doing their own thing, and finally I'll be with Ligalux for several weeks less than I spent in Advertising.  Ohhhh well.  I've stayed in touch well with the Advertising crew though, who as per usual are a pretty hilarious bunch.

Having said that, let's move on to my social life....

Adventures:  Alright, so I suppose it's time to think waaaayyyyy back.  Last time I updated was after Düsseldorf, so we'll start with the following weekend.

For many years now I've nurtured a love of Classical music and opera.  I'm familiar with Puccini (who doesn't love La Boheme?), but it actually wasn't until I saw 2009's Quantum of Solace that I looked into Tosca.  Though the music played for only a short scene I was instantly hooked, and swore that if I ever got to Europe I would see Tosca live in Germany.  I am happy to say that after checking out the Hamburg Opera's Autumn lineup Tosca was set to start September 4, so I bought a ticket and waited impatiently for the day to roll around.

Things got off to a bit of an imperfect start.  I wasn't thrilled to be going solo, so waiting for the performance to start and during the intermission I was a little bored, lonely, and depressed.  Also, the theatre itself is a relic of the '80s, possibly my least favourite era of architecture.  The libretto (a translation of what performers are singing that appears at the top of the curtain during the show) was in German, so I couldn't understand it.  Luckily the program included a short English plot-summary so I wasn't completely lost.  Finally, apparently not even Europeans know how to dress properly for the opera.  To add some context, this was a Sunday show and the first showing of Tosca this season.  And yet, there were still waaaaaaaaaaaaay too many people in casual clothes and even jeans.  If you are into opera enough to be attending Tosca on a Sunday then you should know better than to show up wearing that.  And no, I don't care how elitist that sounds, it's just proper etiquette!

However, all these things ceased to matter as soon as the show started.  Opera in any setting is moving, but opera performed live is totally overwhelming.  You get swallowed up my music, and I found again and again I would get goosebumps and chills during my favourite sequences (notably "Tre sbirri... Una carrozza", "Vissi D'arte", and the piece before/after the murder [I don't recall the title of that part just now]).  It feels as though all of a sudden you have muscles in your ears you never noticed and they're all flexed at once.  That description sounds uncomfortable but I assure you it's completely exhilarating.  I didn't cry, but it took a decent amount of effort not to, which I consider a good measure of how good the performance was.

The following weekend wound up being a busier one.  On Friday night some of the ladies from work (the secretary and one of the girls from Accounts) invited me out to Terrace Hill again for a Rockstar themed club night.  After work I wound up having drinks and playing darts with the Advertising guys.  It seems my darts skills have improved drastically since arriving - after two months here I finally won my first game!  We had a really good time but eventually I had to home so I could get ready for the night.  Unfortunately the rest of the evening wasn't as totally awesome as the start.  It wound up being one of those nights where you spend all your time waiting in lineups: waiting to get into the club; waiting to check your coat; waiting to get a drink; waiting to get your coat again.  The crowd at the club were a little on the obnoxious side, and unfortunately none of my group seemed very into the scene.  I spent most of my time on the outdoor terrace enjoying the view of Hamburg and the fresh air.  I won't lie, it was a little depressing though, and I was missing home a lot and mostly brooding about the language for the millionth time.  For all the complaining I do you'd think I'd get around to doing something about it but German is NOT an easy language.

Anyway, the next day was pretty fun.  I went boots hunting for the eighth (?) week in a row.  I only brought ballet flats, sandals, and high heels to Europe because boots are bulky to pack and I thought I'd find something I liked here easily enough.  Not so.  I'm pretty picky, and everything here was all wrong: the toe was the wrong shape; they didn't hit at the right place on the leg; the sole was awkwardly cut; the fit in the calf was wrong; they had weird buckles or accessories.  The list goes on... At the start of September I had found ONE pair that I liked, the perfect pair.... but they also happened to be wildly expensive.  I decided to keep looking, but after checking high-end, low-end, and mid-range stores I still found nothing I remotely liked except for the one amazing pair.  Anyway, I concluded that after having searched all of Hamburg and a good part of Düsseldorf I wasn't going to find anything so I caved and got the pricey ones.  Sigh.  Anyway, in case you're wondering they're exceptionally simple: black, just below the knee, with a loose fit to the calf and no tapering at the ankle (ew).  They have an almond toe and no adornments whatsoever.  You'd think that these would be easy to find anywhere but apparently not.  But enough about shoes.

After a supremely self-indulgent day (much of which I spent hanging out at the canal next to the Alsterarkaden, a very beautiful area) I was just stopping for coffee when something caught my eye.  There's an open area in a place called the Gänsemarkt where vendors often set up on weekends or brands hold promotions.  Just as I was sitting down I noticed a group of 15 or so people all dressed in white shirts and black trousers.  One woman was dressed as Marilyn Monroe in a white dress with blond curls and red lipstick, and two gentlemen were wearing no shirts but little white collars, bow-ties and fedoras.  I was very curious so I went over and asked what they were selling.  As it turned out it was white-dress-woman's bachelorette party and they were all out celebrating.  They were a very friendly bunch (unusual in Germany) and so I wound up getting pictures with the two guys and a couple of the whole group.  In retrospect I wish I had chatted them up more - opportunities for meeting people here are so few and these guys were very receptive (haha) and friendly to boot.  But I didn't want to bother them and had plans to get to anyway, so off I went.  That evening I had plans to meet up with my Advertising crew in an area near where I live called the Shanze.

At the appointed hour I headed out, but everyone seemed to be on their own timeline as it took a while for us to all get together.  The evening was a little more on the mellow side, which I didn't mind.  We were at the same bar we went to waaaaay back when I first arrived, the one we like to call Sofa Bar but has some other name.  Anyway, it was a crowded night so we wound up sitting with two strangers, one of whom was exceptionally handsome and who made eye contact right away.  He was typically German looking, with good bone structure, blonde hair, blue eyes and an athletic build.  I was just plotting how I was going to strike up a conversation with this conveniently close hottie when our group swelled, and to my great dismay the two who we had joined wound up leaving.  Just my luck.  I spent the rest of the evening having forced conversation with a friend of my coworker, brooding about how I would much rather be chatting up a different guy and could have been had I not been such a coward.  I left earlyish (around 1am) and spent the rest of the weekend beating myself up for missing two great opportunities to meet people.

Which brings us to this weekend.  A friend of mine from University is spending a semester in Mannheim, and to my surprise he got himself together and visited this weekend.  When he arrived on Friday we spent the evening catching up and then getting to bed early in preparation for a loaded day on Saturday.

On Saturday we started things off by taking a free walking tour (Sandeman's New Europe tour, in case you're wondering).  One thing I found totally bizarre was that one gentleman on the tour (a German) wore no shoes.  At all.  For the whole time.  I began to think of him as the "shoeless wonder", as he would walk down the cobbled streets (broken glass everywhere) without batting an eyelash.  I wondered if he was allowed in stores like that - "no shoes, no shirt, no service".... right?  Anyway, I never did find out what his deal was, but it wasn't high on my agenda.

We went around to at least four or five different churches, each of which was interesting in its own way.  One was set at the highest point in all of Hamburg (a tiny hill to my Western Canadian eyes), another held what was once the world's largest organ.  Johann Sebastian Bach had wanted to work there, but they had rejected his request as this was prior to his major successes.  Later Napoleon used the same church as a munitions storehouse when he occupied Hamburg.  We then moved on to see several of Germany's famous "contour houses" (it might be "kontur haus", I'm not sure).  These are basically just interestingly designed old buildings.  We saw Chilehaus, Afrikahaus, and we saw the building where Zyklon B gas was manufactured during the second World War.  We went to St. Nikolai church, of which only burnt bricks and a single tall tower remain.  We went right up to the top, which had a great view of the city.  It felt like at any moment Nosferatu could walk out behind a pillar, which was pretty fun.  After a coffee break the group headed on over to Hafen City, which is down by the docks of the Elbe.  It's Hamburg's major industrial/storehouse area and quite the sight.  We saw the new building for the Hamburg Philharmonic, which will have cost close to half a billion dollars by the time it's complete.  We also visited the Dutch portion of Hamburg - the oldest part of the city - and also where the great fire of the 19th century started, which destroyed much of the city.  We walked along cobblestones that had been there for nearly a thousand years, which was pretty damn cool.

Once the tour was over my friend and I went to the Hamburg Dungeon, which is a really elaborate haunted house type thing.  Basically you move through something very similar to a haunted house, but you'll be stopped in various rooms by people in costume who will tell you the darker parts of the city's history.  Unfortunately it was all in German, so I didn't understand any of it but it was still really cool.  Toward the end you go on a boat ride and then to a ride where you're raised up and then dropped without warning - you'll be familiar with these rides from any amusement park.

By the time we left the Dungeon it was closing in on evening, so we trekked back to my apartment to eat, rest, and get ready for a night on the town.  The same group that organized the walking tour also does a pub crawl in the Reeperbahn, Europe's largest red light district.  After such a long day I wasn't sure I was all that ready for a night out as well, but I didn't want to pass up a good opportunity so off we went.

We met up with the group at a 99 Cent bar, where - you guessed it - everything was 99 cents.  The others on the tour were two Australian guys, two Brazilian guys, an American man, a Bulgarian guy, two German girls, and I don't recall who else.  My friend and I immediately got along with the Australians, and throughout the night there were many toasts to "The Commonwealth!"  It wound up being a spectacularly fun time.  One of the earlier stops was to a bar with live music playing the likes of ACDC and typical American rock, so we got our dance on and had a glorious time.  I asked the Aussis about amusing local sayings, and my stand-out favourite is "we're not here to fuck spiders".  It basically means let's do what we've got to do.  On the whole it was pretty perfect, though my guest managed to (unknowingly) proposition a prostitute and then get on the wrong side of her pimp, which is the type of thing that would only happen to him.

In a disappointing conclusion both the Aussis were leaving Hamburg the next day to continue on a Contiki tour.  I begin to suspect that Europe is conspiring to ensure I have no lasting friendships... ever.  Anyway, we spent all of Sunday recovering, and yesterday it was back to work as usual.

Travels: Yesterday evening an old friend of my aunt's was in Hamburg, so we arranged to meet up for dinner.  Luckily we got along well, so this weekend I'll be visiting her family in Munich and attending Oktoberfest, drindl and all.  I'll be departing Saturday and returning Monday, and I'll be using the train for the first time since getting to Europe.

I've also just made plans to visit my extended family in Lyon (France) during the second weekend of October, which I'm very excited for, especially since I can actually speak functional French.

Perhaps what I'm most excited for though is Ireland.  I've finally thrown caution to the wind and will book flights tomorrow to go during my last weekend in Europe.  I've had a mysterious but nonetheless powerful attraction to Ireland since I was about 16, so I am beyond excited to fulfill a dream I've had for the last six years.  Hopefully I'll be seeing one of the Irish guys I met in Düsseldorf, providing he's not too busy with school.  But regardless I think it'll be pretty amazing.  Then, before I know it, it'll be back to Canada.

My initial plan had been to return straight to BC, but I'm now contemplating a stop off in Toronto.  There's a job opportunity I'm very interested in (more on that later), and I'm also dying to see my family, who I haven't visited in nearly five years.  Tooooo long.

Romance: Ugh.  I feel like that pretty much sums it up.

Things had briefly looked up with my Düsseldorf fling.  We connected via facebook (of course), and not long after my visit he and his girlfriend split up, which was wayyyyy more than I had expected out of that.  Unfortunately since then things have hit a serious lull, and I'm fairly certain the end of things has come and gone.  He returns to school soon, and I have no idea whether he'll be visiting Hamburg.  Even if he does my schedule is now so packed I doubt we'll be in the same place at the same time.  I guess it wasn't "meant to be", but that hardly makes me feel any better.

Apparently my life's narrative has turned into a broken record though.  I don't know how well you read between the lines but you may have inferred that I was leaving some details out of this past weekend's pub crawl.  I got along especially well with one of the Australian guys, who of course had the cute accent (I'm a terrible sucker for accents), the blonde hair, the tan, and - what do you know? - a girlfriend.  Not that that stopped a dance floor make-out session from taking place.  Seriously though, WHAT THE FUCK?! Why does EVERY guy I meet have a girlfriend?  And why hasn't that stopped me recently???  Before I got to Europe I had never cheated on a boyfriend and I had never been involved with a guy who had a girlfriend.  But all of a sudden I get here and manage to have this happen twice in what? three weeks time?  I mean on the one hand I'd like to think that I'm not the one in the relationship and therefore it's not my responsibility to ensure these guys are faithful (also, in both instances it was only kissing), but then again once upon a time I had a lot more compassion for these guys' girlfriends.  For some reason that has recently totally evaporated and been replaced with a complete lack of remorse.  'Bye moral compass, it was nice knowing you.

Once again I find myself irritated that I've met someone interesting and fun who I have great chemistry with but zero future.  I suppose it's ridiculous to expect any kind of future seeing as I'm leaving the continent in just over a month, but human beings are so irrational.

Alright, I've been writing for close to three hours now, and I think this update is officially long enough.  Bravo if you made it to the end all in one go.