Cairo, Day One

I'm on the 5 am train from Nurnberg to Munich, the sun is coming up and the countryside is beautiful. I am always amazed how many shades of green the universe has seen fit to bless us with and the serenity of the rising sun over these waking villages makes the gentle whooshing of the train that much more calming. From the few lit farmhouses that pass my window you can smell the brown sugar melting on the oatmeal while the coffee brews. I revel in this for a few stops while the train slowly fills with morning commuters. The lady sitting across from me has decided, with her wet, hacking, phlemy cough that my fairy tale is over, I vow that if she gets me sick on this trip, I will slash her throat with a broken bottle upon my return and convalescence. We arrive at Munich's main train station. I have 10 minutes until my next train, I need coffee and a sandwich.



I have arrived in Cairo at Terminal 3 of the most spread out cluster eff of an airport I have ever seen. I drop $15 on a visa and change 300 Euros into 2700.00 Egyptian pounds. The guy on the train told me Egypt is mad cheap and I'm hoping he's right. 3 or 4 pounds should get me a meal and another 3 or 4 will get me a drink. I walk right through Customs, Egyptians were used to visiting Americans until the Bushes started the war on terror and tourism dropped 75%. They're happy we're back and they LOOOOVE Obama. I walk outside the airport to ask where to meet my friends coming from SF via NYC.
“Tear-meen-al one, my mah-an”

I jump a bus marked terminal one and find a seat. I stick out like a sore thumb but I don't feel any eyes, in fact no one even seems to notice, this makes me feel a little better. For once I like the anonymous feeling, I don't need any attention quite yet. I arrive at the terminal with a couple hours to spare so I wonder around the mall that is:
1)air conditioned
2)inexplicably ½ empty of stores
3)closed at 1 in the afternoon

After wondering around this empty, glass covered cave looking like a lost tourist for what seems like eternity I ask the guy at Radio Shack (the only open store) where I can get WIFI, he tells me the whole place is hooked up. I wire in and update all the people that need updating. Guil askes me for Lance's number. He can walk to Lance's house from his yet I'm getting messages from Portland, OR for phone numbers. I should trade Portland information for Fed Ex'd dry ice packed Los Gorditos burritos.

As Phil and Danille's arrival time approaches I head back to the airport where I am approached by cabbie after cabbie all asking if I need a ride, where I am staying, etc, etc over and over...after 20 minutes of fending them off one finally hooks me. I tell him I don't know where the hotel is but we have one, I don't know what the deal is with a ride but I think we have one. It's a hustle, plain as day so I don't make any promises but because I have said “Maybe” to this guy he's shooing off all the other hustlers It's like we're in prison and I'm his bitch...I'm fresh meat, that's for sure.

Just after forever and just before I give up hope Phil and Danielle arrive and the frenzy starts up again. I tell Phil the prices this guys has given me and they are better than the ones he was quoted so we take a meeting with the guy. He tells us he is employed by the Dept. of Tourism, this is bullshit, but his prices are pretty good and we talk him down a couple bucks so we all feel good. We drop some cash on him, get a phone number, make a few plans and he puts us in a car with a hilarious psychopath; dude plays like he's gonna jump out of the car at 100 KPH, stops in the middle of the interstate bridge crossing the Nile so we can get pics and weaves cars like Parnellli Jones. Dude's rad. He drops us at the hotel, we check in and return to the lobby to see “The Lights and Sounds of the Pyramids” which sucks...it's really, really awful. And boring. It is awful and boring. By the time it ends Phil and Danielle have been awake for 3 full days. We get back to the hotel and crash. Tomorrow we hit the Pyramids for real.

Sweden Part 1

I love Tiffany, she's logical, she's smart, she's funny, she doesn't get mad when I do stupid shit, she's organized and she's down for whatever madness falls from the sky. Yet at 5:30 AM on Friday mornings I HATE her like Vito hates Mookie. (Do The Right Thing 1989)

Tiff: Awww...you are the sweetest...but you're right - not the sweetest early in the morning

I don't know why I agree to shit like this. I've lived with me for 33 years, long enough to know that I need at least 6 hours of sleep a night and yet whenever we buy plane tickets I clap like a monkey and vote for the earliest flight possible, because we might as well get there as early as we can. This time we're meeting up with John and Missy, friends of ours from Portland. John is the band, From Ashes Rise, they are playing a festival in a small town in Sweden and has invited us to come up for the show and to spend the weekend camping in the great outdoors.

We have plane tickets to Gothenberg, Sweden and we're headed to Munkedal, which is about an hour (or 36 fjords) north.

Tiff: Still no idea how to get from one place to the other - but we'll figure it out.

Like most of the plans Tippy and I come up with, we're not totally sure about anything. We know Munkedal is VERY small and might not have any sort of store or place to buy ANYTHING so we'll need to take enough to keep us alive for the whole trip. We are sure we're camping so we pack only the bare necessities:

1 tent

2 sleeping bags

2 tarps

2 chairs

a sweatshirt

socks

draws

an extra pair of pants

various snacks

a couple bottles of water

a bottle of grapefruit soda

and one bottle of Russian vodka

Tiff: Trips on the fly are always the best the way to go - forget planning.

Everything miraculously fits in a rolling duffel bag, and a small carry on, both of which are (presumably) waterproof.

I'm tired and grouchy so I bitch and complain the ENTIRE subway ride to the airport and Tiffany doesn't yell at me, I will never understand this but it will probably get her nominated for Sainthood someday.

There are another couple sitting across from us on the train. You can tell by looking at them that they partied all night, well, he did. He's passed out on her shoulder, she's staring at their reflection in the window, she's trying her best not to just get up and leave this drunk bastard. Her expression is repeating "I have GOT to breakup with this guy, I have GOT to breakup with this guy, I have GOT to breakup with this guy, I have GOT to breakup with this guy, I have GOT to breakup with this guy". We don't speak but 3 out of 4 of us know exactly what's going on and I decide to shut my mouth about being tired and cranky.

Two planes later we get to Munkedal and meet up with John, Missy, Derek the bass player and his girlfriend Ivy. Also attached to our group is one of the drunkest Canadians I've ever met, while we wait for our luggage with he yells about Poutain to whoever will listen, so I video him.

Tiff: Video shot before he threw his luggage on me...and refused to come out to see his family waiting for him on the other side of the luggage pickup...entertaining for a second, but had to shake him.

Missy, John, Derek and Ivy have a ride to Munkedal cause they're rockstars but regular-ass Tiff and I have* to figure our own way. The lady at the info desk tells Tiff there is only one bus to the city, so we can't get lost. We find the bus and it takes us to the train station. We find the right train, eat some lunch and climb aboard the 12:45 north-bound train. An hour and a half later we arrive in Munkedal and follow the punks who lead us first to the liquor store and then to the camping area. Munkedal is small, one grocery store, one liquor store, one pizza place and one small cafe, you can walk the circumference of town in 24 minutes.

Tiff: *GET to figure our own way

Oh, and it's raining pretty hard. Has been for awhile. It's wet and we have to set up camp. We walk to the camping area and survey the grounds, we'll need high ground to stay dry, Tip wants to be far enough away from the throngs that we can sleep while the inevitable party rages into the night, I maintain that if we're too far away we'll simply end up closer to the area that people will be using as a bathroom when the port-a-potties get filled up and/or tipped over. As it turns out everyone ends up being correct.

Hooray.

I set up the tent and rig up a tarp as a front porch/dry dock area with some bungee cords and borrowed string, you can see it in the picture below. Camp is now complete and I can crack a beer and go make friends with the neighbors , a group of Swedes with a massive tent who are sitting around a hookah drinking beers and listening to an old school ghetto blaster. I quickly find out that everyone in Sweden speaks English and is sarcastic, absurd & hilarious. We now have a good crew to hang with in the camp area. Lund, Nils, Svante, Cecilia and Jacob combined with me and Tiff proceed to drink and talk shit for awhile.

Tiff: Note our tent in the background - nice job babe

(L-R) Cecilia, Nils, Lund

Tif & Svante

Jacob, Cecilia, Nils

Lund, Nate

Tiff: These 5 were fucking fantastic - we couldn't have asked for better people to camp next too - they were all sooooooo rad!

A good, long while cause it's now 8 hours later, it's time to go to the show and Tiff is wasted.

WAY-STA-D

We make a muddy, slippery trek over a muddy slippery trail through the woods to the show watch at least a couple bands.

Tiff: This is where I fade

On the way in I meet a BIG dude with 2 beers in his hand. I go "you're not allowed to take beers in." He goes, "Oh, okay. Here" and hands me a beer. I ask if he wants to shot gun them, he has no idea what I'm talking about so I teach him, I stick my knife in and he does the same. 1, 2, 3, done. I have a new best friend.

We stumble into the festival, bee-line it to the beer garden where he buys the whole table a couple rounds of beers. A bit later when it's time for him to leave he sticks as many leftover beers as he can fit into his belt and hobbles to the entrance/exit where the beers succumb to gravity. The cops laugh along with the rest of the beer garden and then help him pick up his runaway alcohol and send him on his way. A few hours later I head back to the tent with what's left of Tippy.

Tiff: Wet and muddy me

Sweden part 2

Saturday morning and it's not raining anymore, instead it's gale force winds and our girl, TNT is hung over like a blanket on a clothes line. I feel like a million and change in Kroner, which is about 37 Euros or 22 dollars American. I meet up with John and Missy and we hit the grocery store looking for Gator-aid and snacks, John finds a blu-cheese/whiskey spread for the delicious snack win. I walk with John and Missy back to the band area and end up talking to Texas Terri for a bit. On the walk back to camp to drop off the hangover supplies to a sleeping Tiffany I meet up with a guy who said last year him and a bunch of guys were hiding in the woods scaring people as they walked back to camp. Apparently they jumped out and scared the shit out of the lead singer of Oi! Polloi! and he was so mad he wanted to kick all their asses. Hilarious! The guy is off to score more speed and axes me if I wanna go. I decline and instead head into town with the Swedes get pizza and beer. Tiff is asleep when I get back a couple hours later. Me and the Swedes alternate between coffee and talking shit, beer and talking shit and Irish coffee and deep contemplation. At some point Tiff gets up and we head up to the show. It's only 3:30 in the afternoon. I may have gotten up too early.

We spend the rest of the day alternating between watching the show and watching the rain from the camp and beer garden. Victims, Doom and I dunno who else played but it was fun. Around midnight the From Ashes Rise guys start getting together back stage and I video taped a bunch of it

They had a great set. I'll post those videos later. I gotta get permission first.

We party for another couple hours and head back to the campsite as the sun comes up at 3:30 am.

Tiff: Correction - the sun CAME up at 3:30am

Sunday we get up and tear down camp. We get everything packed up and head into town just in time to see the train pull out of the station. We check the time table and the next one is due in a scant 4 hours. Tiff axed me to check the train schedule the day before and I didn't...I'm a moron. We head to the cafe to get some coffee and eat a 4 hour breakfast. The guy at the cafe told us to check the bus schedule so while Tiff got coffee I ran to check the next bus. Fifteen minutes later, Tiff, me and 30 filthy, muddy punk rockers board a bus that was previously occupied solely by rich, white women headed to the local mall. They are HORRIFIED. The punks don't notice or care. We just sit where ever we can and wait. Tiff and I get floor space, everyone is super rad and very nice.

My view of the front of the bus

And the back...Naomi from Genies in Portland is back there somewhere

Tiff: Tired camp face

The boots of the couple next tous, The same couple that's making out in the picture above this one.

When we get back to Gothenberg our new bus friends invite us to pizza and beers but we have plans so we say goodbye. Inside the train station, while looking for the information counter we see this:

NFC -- They serve fried chicken, so I get that part of the name but what does the "N" stand for? What do YOU think it stands for? Who eats fried chicken? That's right, Norwegians. Norwegian Fried Chicken.

Racist.

We get to the hotel, check in and meet up with everyone, and get a late lunch at a place called MAX. It's REALLY good and REALLY REALLY good for fast food. The F.A.R. guys mention that the super idealistic promoters of the show would probably NOT get the irony of seeing them eat fast food. Whatever. Brad eats himself into a food coma and out of the ability to hit the roller coasters with Tiff, Dave and me. He's also playing Wack-a-Mole by the time we get back to the hotel. So Me, Tiff and Drummer Dave take off for Lise-land or whatever. ( Side note: Me and drummer Dave apparently look so much alike that his band mates can't tell us apart from the back.)

This town has an amusement park right up the street from our hotel and I'll be damned if I miss out on some good rides and this place has 3 awesome looking coasters.

Tiff: I think it was Liseberg - a definite recommendation for anyone visiting Gothenberg - an old town Dollywood like feel with roller coasters.

Tiff: You guys definitely look like you're related

The crew: Nate, Tiff & Dave looking forward to Sweden's best non-Bugs Bunny, but still cartoon rabbit based theme park

I'm especially looking forward to this ride, you'll notice that it rips your hair out AND has a fart rating of 5 stars...and judging from the kid on the left it should have a poo rating of Aardvark Sauce & Black Coffee as well.

And this ride which has a ROCK n ROLL rating of 5

a FART rating of 4 (check out the "sneaky lean" on the blonde)

and surprisingly a SNURR rating of 4, and we all know the Snurr rating board does not just hand out 4 stars willy-nilly

This is Tiff and a guy who is not me.

Tiff: The bunny snuck up on Dave - can't you tell by his surprise face?

Roller coaster shot. Dave is so close to crying I can taste the tears. Tiff and I are in the first car, I became a man that day.

Tiffany and the Whitney Houston star...there are like 5 crack jokes, but I'll let you guys make 'em

After that we got pizza for dinner and got wasted and told stories well into the night. After everyone else went to bed Brad, Dave and I wondered around Gothenberg. Brad says he got punched in the back of the head but I don't remember that.

The next morning we bugged out and went home.


And finally here's a picture of a naked woman with a sausage, just for reading this whole thing. Good for you.



Good for you you should be able to read this, good for me I should be able to write it.

PS I got exit row window seats the whole way home.
PPS Good for me I should be comfortable, good for you that you should be happy when I enjoy comfortable things.

Tiff: See ya next weekend in Berlin!

Absolute Hair Metal Volumes 1-11

I grew up on metal, I didn't just have an older sister (Sara) who was totally into metal I had a grandma (Lila) who bought Sara (and by proxy, me) the Twisted Sister "Stay Hungry" cassette, I had a step dad who gave me his Black Sabbath records when I was 11 or 12 and a mom who once cut a shopping excursion short so we could go home cause I bought Girls, Girls, Girls.

My credentials:

I had a 4 panel fold out poster of Mick Mars BY HIMSELF. A real metal head knows how rare this is.

I know why Kane Roberts is so rad. (Machine gun guitar)

I know who Love/Hate is. (Awesome, cheap GNR xerox, guitarist = Skid, singer = Jizzy Pearl)

I made 3 volumes of 90 minute mix tapes solely consisting of songs from the first 3 Metallica albums.

I was SHOCKED that Rob Halford was gay.

I can quote "The Warrior's Prayer" to you right now in it's entirety, verbatim, with the Scottish brogue.

My love of KISS was not based only on the cool-make-up-decent-songs-Destroyer era, I loved 'em during Lick It Up through Hot In The Shade. I'm talkin' Vinnie Vincent, Mark St John and Bruce Kulick, man the suck years. A whole wall of ugly, makeup-less posters. A whole wall of shame.

I grew up listening to metal.

The other day I downloaded a torrent called Absolute Hair Metal. It ended up being 111 volumes deep with 14 tracks per album, most of them by bands I knew peripherally at best. I can't POSSIBLY listen to all this and neither can you so we're gonna go through it in bits and pieces. I made a playlist today to listen to while I did dishes and we gonna talk about each track real quick.

Rip and Tear - LA Guns

Once LA Guns starts a rockin' do you think they're gonna stop? The answer is "No, of course LA Guns is not going to stop rockin' JESUS, that's just silly Mr. Silly Goose." Also, they are not asking permission to come after you, they are just going to do it, but don't worry they "shoot to thrill" and think you are "nice n' sleazy."

Bang Bang - Danger Danger

I'm not real familiar with this band so I cannot say for sure if the whole band has a stuttering problem of they always say things two times, two times. They sound like they picked this song out of Jo Bo Jo's trash. Radio pop metal....gross.

I Wanna Be Somebody - WASP

This song rules. End of review.

PS If you get a chance to see WASP this summer, go do it, they sound exactly the same as they did in 1987.

PPS It's because they're using backing tracks for all the music and lip syncing all the words... Chris Holmes died BEFORE he filmed his interview in the second "Decline"

Riot In Everyone -Crashdiet

You named your band Crashdiet?? Seriously? It's just my 2 cents but maybe you guys should have had one more band meeting before settling on "Crashdiet." This song is the classic example of "we're a live band, the producer didn't understand our vibe" Someone turned the metal down and the suck WAAAAAAY up on this band. Too bad, if they were a bit harder and had a better name I'dah asked Chris Pelner to marker it on my jean jacket in middle school. You can't write CRASHDIET on the back of your denim next to Celtic Frost and Motorhead, you just can't.

Wild In The Streets -Helix

AC/DC called, they've been doing this for awhile already and doing it much... much better. Check back with us if the WHOLE BAND chokes on ONE GUY'S vomit.

I'll Be There For You - Black-n-Blue

This is SOOOO gay. Hey Black n Blue, do you intend to be there for your friends? Even when times are bad and things are looking blue? Should friends and lovers live like strangers? What are you even TALKING ABOUT??

Right To Rock - Keel

At least when Beastie Boys did this song they were joking.

"Don't let anyone tell you how to live your life.

We won't turn it off, we won't turn it down, cause it's our way of life"

Good rhyme, Ron.

If I ever have a son I'm gonna give him this song as a test and if he ever quotes it back to me I'm gonna beat his momma with a shovel because she obviously cheated on me and I've been raising some bastard kid.

Damned If We Do, Damned If We Don't - Sleeze Beez

A poor man's Def Leppard with horns. Sample Lyric: "Momma said son don't you be a fool, it's time to face the golden rule"

then it goes on about cutting your hair and getting a 9 to 5 job. Hey Sleez Beez, the Golden Rule is "do unto others as you would have done unto you." It has NOTHING to do with anything you're talking about.

They also mention (as metal songs from this era tend to) the all-hated "three piece suit." You know who wears three piece suits? Lawyers, accountants, executives and other college graduates, not greasy drop-outs who MIGHT get a graveyard shift at the Pump-n-Dump if they can get up before 5 pm to ride their 10 speed with the bull horn handlebars down the block and turn in a fucking application...jeez.

Dead, Jail or Rock and Roll - Michael Monroe

I was betting on Dead but I Wiki'd Mikey and it looks like Rock and Roll is winning....so far.

This song opens the windows on your Firebird...you say you don't drive an Firebird? You do now.

Shame - Pink Cream 69

I had never heard of this song or this band before today, it's a good song, it's got a good hook, and smart lyrics, unfortunately it's written and preformed by PINK CREAM 69

I have 10 more songs including "Pedal to the Metal" by The Bang Gang but this is getting a bit long and sweaty so I'm gonna cut it down a bit. I will do a second installment if you guys like it.

Let me know.

The Monastery plays once a year

So I get a call from Phillip at 11:49 on Tuesday night. I'm not gonna answer it because I don't wanna meet for beers with a drunk Phillip at 11:49 on a Tuesday night, I also don't wanna have to wade through the accent, especially at midnight on a Tuesday. The next day I check the message.

"Hay Nate, remember when you said you'd sing for Kloster's 15th anniversary?, well the guitar player and drummer are going to meet you Thursday at 11 in the morning for band practice, okay? Good. Bye-bye."

I do remember agreeing to this but only because I didn't think it would ever happen. I HATE moving, I don't help people move, I just ain't "that friend" but if you and I were drunk and you were like "Shomeday, imma move tah fahkin space, brah".

I'd say "dooooode, I will totally help you move to schpash". That's what this was, drunk sincerity. I didn't think it would ever come together and now, 2 days before the show, I was meeting up with a drummer I'd never met and a equally mysterious guitar player.

Thursday morning rolls around, I show up at the bar and it's me and Phil. We wait for 45 minutes and Stephan the drummer shows up. I know Stephan, I like him. He rebuilds American Muscle cars and sells them here in Germany, cool guy, he has rough hands, and usually has a beer in one of 'em. While we wait for the guitarist to show up Stephan and I write up a set list, mainly classic bar songs, Johnny Cash, The Clash, Sam Sham & the Pharaohs, just sing along stuff. An hour later when the guitarist still hasn't shown up and I leave confident that I just dodged a bullet and I was right, this isn't going to happen.

Later that night while I'm DJing Phillip informs me he has found another guitarist and this guitarist will meet us FRIDAY MORNING for a practice so we can play a show SATURDAY EVENING, this is a recipe for disaster, like letting your teenage daughter intern for Tommy Lee. I am not looking forward to this, but I said I would and I'm not gonna let Phillip down.

Friday morning Stephan and I meet up with Wolfie, a 21 year old kid that plays bass in a German AC/DC tribute band. Wolfie doesn't drink, smoke, or mess up when he plays guitar, the kid is PHENOMENAL. Wolfie informs me that his favorite type of music is German acapella. I don't know him well enough to be able to tell if he's yanking my chain. I assume he'd HAVE to be...but he wasn't smiling when he said it.

Band practice is MAD fun and we rip through 10 songs a couple times and there's no way it can go bad.

The next day, my throat is SHREDDED. I haven't sang since I got here so I'm WAAAAAAY out of practice. My stomach hurts and I'm 90% sure I could throw up at any given time. I spend the day eating cough drops, drinking throat coat tea and trying to figure out how this could POSSIBLY work. And I just can't.

Tiff asks me if I'm sick, I'm not, I tell her my stomach just hurts.

"When was the last time you felt like this?"

"Just before I do kara--oh.......right " I can sing my own songs with my band anytime, anywhere but karaoke always makes me nervous. What if it's faster than I'm used to? What if I miss the intro? All that stuff just kills me. It's a damn good thing Tippy knows me better than I know myself. Still doesn't help my tummy, but an explanation is nice.

At 6:30 I meet the guys at the bar, I figure we'll do a couple songs at sound check, I'll sound like shit and we'll cancel the whole thing due to "illness." As soon as we play the first song all the bad stuff melts away and we have a great time. A couple hours later we rocked the place, it was packed and everyone sang along.

What I wanna know is how a dude from Portland that's only been in the country for 3 months ends up singing for the house band at one of the coolest bars in Nuremberg.

Luck I guess.

Next time, the futbol match...

Step one, tell the government you live in Germany

I'm fucked. Maybe. Hopefully not, but from what I've read I'm practically staring at a "burner" waiting for Tiger to text me back with a room number. I've been living in Germany for about 70 days, that means I have 20 left on my tourist visa. You can legally visit Europe for 90 days at a crack, after that you gotta go home and tell you friends the same stories that they've already read on your blog for 3 months before you can go back.

The problem is I like Tiff a LOT and I don't want to go back to the states without her. My dog and all my hats and shoes are here too, and I like them almost as much, so leaving is the last resort. There are 3 ways this can go:

1) I get a job, which grants me a work visa....I've been looking for a job, believe me. But to get a job here isn't so easy. I speak rudimentary German at best. I can get a beer;
"Eins Bier, Danke"
and get rid of it, "Toilette?"
But after that I'm seriously just learning, and unless I find a company that speaks mainly English I'm kinda looking for a paddle.

2) I have an appointment with the Alien's Office to get a Resident Visa. I have a job back in the states and I saved enough cash to get me in some SERIOUS trouble in Mexico and from what I've read it's a pretty simple process, show them that you have:
a)Money
b)Insurance
c)A place to live
d)A reason to be here
If you can prove all this they can approve you for up to a year at which time they will probably renew it no questions axed as long as you still fit the requirements.

This sounds fine and/or dandy but they don't say how much dough you need. I remember when I was 18 I worked as a mechanic and I was about to go on my first vacation, the guy who owned the shop asked me how much I had with me for my trip and I thought I was rich.
"I've got 6 hundred bones saved up"
"how long you goin' for?"
"a week"
"shit, I keep more in my pocket when I take my kids to Chuck E. Cheese" and he pulled out a knot to prove the point. The concept of "rich" is subject to interpretation, folks.

The other thing is they can just say no. I could have all the insurance, Carlos Slim money, a place to put my head and all that stuff but they can just say no, stamp my paper, close my file and say "Tschüs" and that scares me.

Option number 3) Just stay. But never be able to come back. If I don't leave the EU, they'll never have a reason to check my passport. If I don't do anything dumb I won't have to deal with cops. But when we leave, that's it. Europe is closed.

You got ideas? I got 20 days and I'm listenin'

I've had less stressful months.

Things I've learned (so far) in Germany

I'm a tripper. I don't I mean I fall a lot, I don't freak out about stuff for no reason but I do, inexplicably take FOREVER to figure shit out. Let's put it this way; if I met a woman in a bar that had a fist sized Adam's Apple and 3 days stubble it's possible that I wouldn't figure "Cinnamon" was a dude til "she" was at the urinal next to me.

I feel like I trip and fall through life, I skin my palms, I rip the knees out of my new jeans, that kinda stuff. Next year I'll figure out shit most 23 year-olds knew a decade ago. With that said here are a few things I've learned since I've gotten here, if it's common knowledge re-read the first paragraph.

1) Coffee comes in 1 size and it's not enough. Not by a damn sight and they fill it up just below half-way in the "to-go" cup. It always costs 1.70, order 2.

2) You can't walk around the block. You can try but you'll turn nine times and get lost thrice. Nothing is square, parallel or equidistant. Positive you're walking north? it's south west. If you turn right when you leave my house you will be inside the city walls in 11 minutes if you turn left, about 4, they are equal as the crow flies. I'm thinking it wormholes.

3) Don't bother bringing electronics outside of your laptop. Bulbs don't work in lamps, converters are expensive and bulky, a toaster might start the house next door on fire somehow...I'm scared to try the smoothie machine

4) The Euro is a buck, stop converting it in your head, it'll just make you crazy

5) If you're in a bar watching futbol, don't pick a side unless you're willing to fight about it

6) The walls are so thick in our apartment it's insane. You know that game "Florida or Germany"? it exists because you can't hear anything through the walls. The screams of the third hobo the guy next door is carving up will never be heard through the foot and a half of concrete, brick and mortar that makes up these 500 year old apartment buildings. They ain't standin' cuz they didn't make 'em good.

7) The hours are on the 24 clock. Ask Sven to meet you at 5:30, you're thinking after Cheers re-runs and before the evening news, he's thinking before the roosters start looking for people to wake up, you meant 17:30, dick.

8) Sunday is for quietly being at home, or loudly being at a festival. There is no in between. Most stores are closed, the streets are empty and it's the only time parking is plentiful. If you need food on a Sunday, you're eating eight Nuremberg brats on a bed of kraut and 1 piece of farmer brot (bread) in a huge tent next to a family of 8 in Leiderhosen that is all smoking, drinking and singing. Sing with them, they don't care that you don't know the words or the tune, you're not gonna remember anyway.

9) When you're looking for parking, stop where ever you feel like. If someone honks after 5 seconds keep going and try another spot, if no one honks, you're good, you can leave your car there indefinitely...or 'til you lose it to Turkish gangsters.