The intermission is finally over and Act II begins.
I'm heading back to the Fatherland. Break out the lederhosen, fill up the steins, and clog the arteries.
That's right. Tomorrow I start the next leg of my European adventures. Up first on the bill: I am flying Austrian Airs tomorrow from JFK to Berlin, with an eight hour lay-over in Vienna. That might sound like a pain in the buttocks, but I am actually really excited about it. After throwing my bags onto my next plane, I have a few solid hours to explore a new city. And apparently Vienna has a thriving coffee culture. I don't know if ordering a cappuccino is a punishable offense, but I'll let you know.
Now, this entire chain of events all started only one week ago. Last Wednesday, after talking to my boss in Berlin, we decided that it would be best if I returned to Germany asap. I was waiting for my French visa to go through the deepest depths of bureaucratic Hell, but found out that it would take a little longer than I previously thought. So I might as well not waste any more time in the States, living as an insatiable parasite upon my parent's bank account. No, it's time to be somewhat contributing kinda slightly to society once again by giving the best damn tour around... and drinking heavily. And telling you about it.
If I said that I was totally ready to get back into it, I'd be lying. I have this dull ache in the back of my chest, which is a feeling I am familiar with. It's the "I think something is going to go wrong but I know it won't" feeling. My guess is that I have become so acclimated to sitting on my ass for weeks on end watching episodes of LOST while eating hummus and triscuits, that the very idea of action and bodily activity is scaring me. But I want to do it. I need to. Right now, I am Jabba... but I want to be Han. Or Lando. I love Billy Dee Williams.
Either way, I am going to do it. Berlin for 22 days, then Munich for a month, then home for 12 hours, then Paris for 4 months. And of course, noble reader, you are coming along with me, because the only way I keep my sanity in a land where I don't speak the language is to talk to myself and then relay that inner-monologue to you. Thanks.