Excusez Moi

The motley crew I live with in our attempt to take an awkward family photo.

Back row, left to right: The disappointing sister, the meat head brother, the perfectionist mother (who is French and bakes better gratin and cake than anyone else) and the creepy uncle.

Front row: The die-hard Republican father and his brown-nosing son!

I live with a French Nationalist. I am not even kidding.

2 days before I flew out to Germany, I received an email from the study abroad student liaison asking me if I would rather move into the apts. on campus over the 200 person dorm. A very nice gesture b/c my life would have been a living hell if I lived in the dorm hall, b/c it is dirty and it's party central. My apt. now, is shared by 5 other people. We have our own living room and kitchen and everyone is pretty cool. But I still live with a French Nationalist!

It took us all about 3 months to really make an effort in conversation with each other and 1 more month to actually want to hang out together. Now, almost nightly, we are sharing a beer or walking to town to get one and just shooting the shit. The conversation always inevitably merges right into jokes about each other's respective countries and is always ended with the statement by both parties: "you know what guys, fuck you!" Because neither side of the ocean is going to budge about how glorious their country is!

Sure Europe has better drinking laws - it's awesome to be able to hold a beer in your hand and walk down the street, public transportation is 10 times better than America's, they take recycling seriously and you won't be swallowed by debt if you decide to get a college education, but America has a better collegiate structure - even if it kills you with debt, our diversity from coast to coast has a lot more depth and the ability to be self-made is a real ideal in the States.

But listening to the passion of this random French guy I know sometimes makes me go back on all of the things I know my country is great for. Hell living in Europe for 6 months could convert even the deepest Patriot. But on the other hand, it's nice being around someone who believes in their country so much. The energy can't help but be absorbed and just as I feel myself about to agree with this French Nationalist, I remember that I'm from America, bitches!

What really counts though is that we can all live under one roof and still enjoy each other's company. And if we're lucky, sometimes this French Nationalist will cook for us. Because that is a category that Europe really does beat America in. Any French person can cook ten times better than me...it's just in their blood.

I'm Still Jaimie From The Block

I am going to be embarrassingly honest with all of you. I am nearly broke.

I can challenge myself when it comes to packing and live off of only 2 pairs of jeans and 17 pairs of socks (where is the logic there?) But when it comes to budgeting, all bets are off. Believe me, I started with the best of intentions! No shopping, limited coffee breaks, light drinking, never going out for dinner and when I had a big trip planned - no little ones could be taken intermittently. I would say all of that stood steadfastly for about 2 months. (An all-time habit-keeping record for me, may I point out!)

Then things started to creep in slowly. A cute dress I saw in the store window here or an increasing cappuccino routine there. Then came the discovery of blind booking, A LOT of BBQing in the apt. fire-pit and the need to buy a 20 bottle case of Hefeweizen beer on an almost daily basis. (You would think 20 bottles would be enough, but surprisingly, they never are!) And every morning after a purchase like one of those, I wake up in panic, promising myself that I will learn better habits and I will truly cut back more today and tomorrow. And then of course comes the invite to BBQ and I find myself at the store buying a 40 bottle beer case.

So last night after a particularly good BBQ and paying my credit card off, I decided that I really don't care anymore. I toasted that thought to a swig off my Hefe too. One thing I have noticed about this whole financial situation is that I am more than willing, happy to, in fact, share my food and beer and buy more of it if it keeps the fun going and it is appreciated.

Which leads me to the real point...would I rather have money and not be happy or be happy and not have money? Because I have to face it, this kind of a question is a reality in my 20's. I am not going to get that top exec job that allows me to take luxurious vacations, throw raging parties all the time and will pay me the 6 figures I so deserve. I am going to be at the bottom, pinching my pennies for a while, so I better get comfortable with the simple things and become more and more creative when it comes to figuring out ways to have fun.

Last night we played that awesome game Catch Phrase for two hours over home-made Mexican food, (or as Mexican as you can get in Germany) and it was a really good night. One I hope to have more of in my future, because it's liberating to not let the hold of money ruin what's right in front of you.

You know, I really don't care!

Our history classes throughout high school and college never really focused on Spanish days gone by. The only thing I can really remember about Spain is the Spanish Inquisition, but don't ask me to have an involved conversation about it. Which is why I was curious as to what I would hear about this country when we partook in another free walking tour.

In all honesty, I didn't hear much. Of course Barcelona is a huge city and there was only so much we could see within 2 hours, but it really seemed enveloped within its own city walls, like nothing of the outside world could touch it. And in the spirit of honesty, I didn't do a lot of planning for this trip, so perhaps if I had seen beyond the city walls, I could say more.

Barcelona was another Blind Booking and once we found out that we would be on the coast of Spain, all we cared about was sitting by the beach. Aalen, Germany is a cute town and Germany is a great country, but there is no water to found anywhere, unless you count a small, dirty lake that is a 2 mile walk after a 15 minute train ride. Coming from a coastal state and living right on the Saco River and always having the option of a swimming pool, not being able to lay out by water at a whim has been torture. It's one of those things that you don't realize you miss until its gone I guess! So it was pure luxury being able to soak in the sun by the Mediterranean Sea.

During the time in which Spain was held by a Fascist regime, those that went against the government were executed through a firing row. Those shooting the victims spared no mercy and all of the holes in this building were made from bullets.

A reminder to all about what happens when you live under a Fascist regime and to never forget those who lost their lives to one.

This square we visited was a medley of buildings from contemporary to 1960's ugly to buildings reminiscent of the early century. People living near them hated how they all looked together and formed a beautification coalition and begged that something be done to spruce the square up. So they had an original Picasso painted onto the buildings wall. This is a piece Picasso painted while drunk on Absinthe and was a parody of another Spanish artist alive during his time.

Salvador Dali's museum.

The square in which Christopher Columbus paraded all of the treasures he found in the Americas upon his return.

Barcelona likes to separate itself from the rest of Spain. The Pyrenees Mountains block Barcelona off from Northern Spain and throughout history has been battled over by the Romans, French troops and Germanic tribes. When it finally did reach independence its people identified themselves as Catalonian among a few other provinces.

This attitude is very apparent amongst the Spanish exchange students here. When we were all introducing ourselves, they made sure to make a point that they weren't from Spain, they were from Catalonia.

This is their official flag. It was established after a particularly bloody battle and the leader of Catalonia was badly wounded. His comrade came to him to help and found he had his blood on his hands and he ran 4 bloody fingers down the leader's gold shield. Thus giving way to the flag!

I share a name with the King of Aragon and Count of Barcelona, Jaume the Conquerer. I love having an androgynous name. Unfortunately my name in Spanish is pronounced "hi-meh," which sounds a lot like hymen and is the exact reason I opted for French in high school instead of Spanish. I was painfully reminded of this fact over and over by the tour guide who I ironically shared a name with - and yes the tour guide was a guy. Somebody has to represent for all the hymens in the world!

Barcelona residents are provided bicycles that they can use for 35 Euros a month. There are bicycle hubs all over the city and you have 35 minutes to use a bike until you have to return it to a hub. If you can't find a free spot then you can swipe your ID card for an extra 10 minutes. If you can't get a bike back in time then your charged something like 50 cents or so.

It's a great idea, but they really screw you with the time limits. Where can you go and what can you do in under 35 minutes? I would love to see something like this instituted in my own town though.

The building where Picasso went to school. It is now closed down, but people have thrown paint against the door to remind everyone that art isn't dead.

In an attempt to be kind of touristy we tried searching for the famous Gaudi mosaic lizard. My first trip to Barcelona was 10 years ago and I drank contaminated water making it so I couldn't leave our cruise ship when we reached Spain. The one thing my mother and other travel companions raved about was this lizard. So I figured this was my second chance to see it.

We traveled 6 stops on the subway, hiked up a mountain and ended up on the other side of this famous lizard and couldn't figure out a way to properly see it. We were so close, yet so far away and after an hour of trying to figure it out, I decided that I really didn't care about the lizard and longed more for the beach so we let it go...after all that work.

It reminds me of that blonde joke where a brunette, red head and blondie are all challenged to swim across a 100 foot river. The brunette and red head make it 30 feet, get tired and decide to turn back, where the blonde makes it 90 feet, gets tired and decides to turn back.

Words cannot describe how much I love water and beer, together.

My lime green poser sunglasses that I negotiated hard ball style for!

Spanish Arc de Triomphe

- You're welcome for this picture

- Thank you Rich

Feels Good Man, Feels Good!

Life is so funny. It is so simple yet it comes off as so complex when you're entrenched in the mundane, everyday ritual. Sometimes you need to just step (WAY) outside of yourself to gain a clear perspective. So I went to Istanbul to do that. It's been an interesting beginning of the month compounded by another round of Blind Booking, which helped open my eyes to some of the things that had been swirling around in my mind.

In all honesty, German Wings and Blind Booking has figured out a way to transcend time and has figured out a way to turn 48 hours into 26. My roommate and I booked 2 days in Turkey and what we got was: a flight that left at on Sunday at 10pm from Stuttgart, arrived in Istanbul at 2am on Monday and then a return flight that left at 4am on Tuesday and returned to Stuttgart at 6am. (We then had to catch a connecting flight at 6:45 that same morning to Barcelona - but that is a different story.)

Flying into Istanbul at 2am was a little unnerving. I wasn't about to wander around the city in the early hours of the morning, so we slept on plastic chairs in the airport for 5 hours. Around 7ish we peeled our eyes open and grabbed a coffee and went about trying to get to the Western side of city, seeing as we flew into the Asian side. A fact we hadn't considered and hadn't factored an hour and half bus ride into our plans.

Of course, as it always does, everything worked out and we were dropped off in the middle of who-knows-what-busy-square and left to fend for ourselves. Since we only had 26 hours in the city, we didn't bother booking a hostel so we had to carry our luggage in 80 degree weather all day. (Between that and sleeping in an upright position for a grand total of 17 hours, I would gladly accept a massage without guilt.) This just confirms for me though that my mental capacity to handle discomfort is very high - something I am very proud to say!

After all of this, I would do it again and again. Istanbul was amazing. It was beautiful, a melange of culture, the food was delicious and I have never felt as though I really got a taste for the city in such a short amount of time anywhere else. I am making a list of all the places in my lifetime I have to visit after I get this trip out of my system and taking some extended time in Turkey is definitely on that list.

City square with the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia.

Courtyard of the Hagia Sophia. Women weren't allowed to enter without a long skirt and head scarf, which was too bad for me b/c the inside is amazing from pictures I have seen.

Istanbul is very hilly, which is awful if you're carrying luggage, but totally worth it once you find what you're looking for! We trekked all over trying to find the Grand Bazaar. Once we did, the amount of people, buyers and sellers flying around in your face was an experience all on its own.

Of course we took a boat tour. Best and most relaxing way to see the city.

As I was browsing in a shop the shopkeepers gave me this book as a present. How they can compact Islam into 200 pages is a mystery in itself, but I intend on reading it and finding out.

Turkey is the best place for food! (Except for Turkish Delight. I bought a huge bag of it and could only make it through 5 pieces before I gave it away to my waiter.) The figs, cheese, olives, spices...everything was amazing.

Of course we had to hookah while we were there. It was a classy affair, with the store owners freshening our coals every 15 minutes. We had 5 hours to spare before our bus left for the airport (and when I say bus, I mean some shuttle we paid for on the street and hoped that it would be there when we returned. Don't worry, we didn't pay in full until the very end!)

While we were sitting back and relaxing and discussing how good it felt to feel our feet again and let the smoke course through our veins and practically put us to sleep the call to prayer rang throughout the city. It was amazing to hear. I videotaped it here and I am so thankful to be able to be there for it.

It makes you think a lot about differences and how small or big they really are. Kind of like life and whether it's simple or complex. Sure the details can get in the way and maybe muddy things, but in the big picture we're all the same and shouldn't be delineated b/c of what we believe. It's just amazing that such a small detail can create such big hate sometimes.

I want light fixtures like that all over my house!

This is what 26 hours of no sleep, dirt, grime and a backpack on all day in 80 degree weather will do to me- and I'm proud of it;)

Save me from myself!

I bit the bullet and I turned 23 a couple of weeks ago! I am not going to lie, I was a little apprehensive about this birthday. Birthdays are usually my thing and I don't believe in a life without (huge) birthday parties, but this one felt a little weird. Don't get me wrong, I am thankful I am still in my 20's, but I feel a little old.

18, 19 and 20 was all about fucking up (Neil Young style) and making poor decisions while the latter part of 20 and 21 was trying to figure out a way to navigate myself out of all of the poor choices while living up the ability to drink in public. 22 was recognizing that even though I am not 21 and am closer to becoming a bona fide adult, fun can still be the main theme in my life with little ramification. 23 means I am closer to 25 and getting further and further away from 21, when life was so simple and fun.

Again, don't get me wrong, my life is amazing and for someone as old as me, I have aged very well ;) BUT 23 represents a time where I have to start seriously thinking about what I want to do with my life. Grad school? Entry level job? No job - and no money and just travel...see where the wind takes me? What do I really want to focus my energy on? More importantly, who do I perceive myself as and how is that going to translate through the decisions I am going to make.

This is also the first year where I don't have college to fall back on. I never had to answer these questions b/c UMaine was patiently waiting for me to go back to it's safety net of a pseudo-apartment and structured classes. The biggest decisions I ever had to make was really about whether or not I was seriously going to wake up for that 9am class or should I just drop it now or what comforter and curtain theme did I want to go with for my dorm that year. Big shock...all jobs start at 9am and there isn't a drop option for that. Well poverty, but that isn't really an option.

I would say that even though I was having mild panic attacks the week prior to July 2nd, I handled my birthday with grace. It was very low-key, German bowling in the afternoon (and yes, there is a distinct difference! All the pins are on strings among other things) and having a dew drinks in the city center with a bunch of friends who were awesome enough to come out!

I am declaring this year as the age of humility, being less materialistic and less high strung. I will start with that and see what else comes my way. I have had it pretty good for the past 23 years, I can imagine the next 23 will be even better!

The losers!

There is something about the French that brings out the class in anyone!

Spanish Mafia!

Started the birthday with a round of Absinth shots and a toast saying "to green grass and blue skies for as long as we're breathing!" It doesn't get any better than that!