I’ve been rather unable to write of my exploits of late.  I feel like that’s a good thing, though.  You know?  I used to use this blog as some sort of cathartic vacuum, that I was allowed to yell into and vent all of my frustrations concerning the world, and my own dissatisfaction with how I interact with it.  I don’t anymore, though.

I always reference my happiness.  Or, I guess referencing earlier, my lack thereof.  Why does my happiness matter?  Well, it doesn’t.  But the point being, no one writes a story about being perfectly happy.  Something always comes up.  Shit always hits the fan.  The best laid plans are torn asunder.  And so on, and so forth.

But not anymore.  I am going to write now, because I want to.  I kept on putting this off, because I thought I had to have some sort of witty, idiosyncratic, and clever take on German society.  It was either that, or wallow in self pity.  And because both were out of reach, I put this off.  But I’m done.

I’m going to Berlin this coming weekend.  And I plan on taking it all in.  I don’t even know where I’m supposed to go, but I know I will.  Sabine will no doubt have some sort of suggestions.

I wrote too often, and I wrote too much when I first got here.  For whatever reasons, that’s true.  But as things started to get better, I stopped.  And I DO have an experiential learning requirement to fulfill.  So I’ll try to write a good few more times before I leave.  I know I have a few weeks to make up for.

I can’t help but look outside at the surrounding buildings and think, “Why the fuck was I so pissed at how adorable all of the buildings are?”

Last night, I ate literal raw meat.  It wasn’t cooked a second, and it was slathered about a piece of bread as though it was jelly or peanut butter.  But, and here’s the kicker: IT WAS DELICIOUS.

So I recently started cooking food on my own about a year and a half ago.  Like, not Mac ‘N Cheese or Ramen, but pork, or spagehtti, or cheeseburgers.  I’m AWFUL at it, but one of the things I can say I can cook well, is a good hamburger.  Well, my mom’s a pharmacist.  As such, ever since I started learning how to cook, she’s always been insane about the potential risk of E. Coli and infection that you can get from undercooked meat.  I prefer my steaks and burgers on the rarer side, so her reticence is understandable.

But last night, I ate raw meat.  RAW MEAT.  What?  I’m confused, how did that even become a thing?  I was talking to Sabine, and evidently it’s a VERY popular German meal, and I definitely get why.  They add onions, and have a specific sort of spice relegated to the art of eating raw meat.  And it’s delicious!  It really is!  Maybe some people add more condiments to this delicious death wish.  I dunno, I’d heard about it before yesterday, but I was more amazed at the fact that the fear of death wasn’t enough to stop them from eating raw meat, than notice what sort of condiments that they add to this delicatessen of death.

The World Cup final is in like, 45 minutes.  It’s raining.  I always like it when it’s raining.  Germans seem almost entirely adverse to air conditioning, so the rain always welcomes clouds and winds, which make it a lot colder.  That’s always welcome, especially since it’s summer.  I probably won’t watch it.  I need a night off.  I’ve been really busy lately, believe it or not.

Remember the whole 7-1 Germany vs. Brazil victory?  Yeah.  So do I.  I was there.  Even *I* was going crazy, and I’m not even from this country.  Additionally, it was my mentor’s birthday on Monday, so I had to make a guest appearance for a while.  On Thursday, one of our Korean friends was leaving for Korea early.  Don’t know how that’s going to work out in terms of the whole “finishing the semester” thing, but it was fun.

But I ate raw meat.  And…  I’ve watched more of the World Cup than I ever have of any sports contests, be it the Super Bowl, the World Series, or the NCAA championship bracket.  And I walk everywhere.  And I live in an apartment without air conditioning.  And I’m dating a German.  And I use pizza.de when I’m too lazy to go out and get food.  And I recycle in an UNNECESSARILY complicated fashion, in which there are four bins designated to the different kinds of recycling.  And I buy 1 Euro Bratwurst at Domplatz Nord when money’s tight, and I’ve been eating far too much Schnitzel from Edeka.

I guess there’s no real point that’s meant to be understood as a conclusion here.  Just that I’ve overcome this initial reluctance to actually try to experience what this country, if not just THIS CITY, has to offer.  And that’s cool.

I may be a bit late, but hey.  Better late than never, right?