So I sit down the other day for what I expect to be a nice quiet dinner at one of my favorite Thai food spots. Nothing special. I order the Thai chicken curry and a mango juice. I get orange juice instead, but I am not one to complain, so I just drink my orange juice. As I am about to pay the bill, a family arrives and asks if they can take my seat. "Of course" I say, as I was just leaving anyway. However, a man sitting next to me instead invites me to sit with him and talk instead of leaving. He must have heard me panic and use English to the waitress. So, what the heck... sure, I'll chat.
Dude was the freakin man! We ended up just chatting about anything for about three hours at the restaurant. We talked about politics, Munich clubs, his family's escape from Romania, World War II, beer, etc. It was a very welcome interruption to my otherwise mundane evening plans (continuing a biography about the photographer Robert Capa. I found the book in my apartment, and since it was one of the few in English, I opened it and started reading. I love it and I am hooked). I only learned his name in the last minute of our conversation. I think it was "Volker." This is not the first time I have misheard a name. Names are tricky here, and not necessarily intuitive. Regardless, that was an awesome experience.
That sort of stuff is always happening to me here. I meet these random people for no reason and totally hit it off. Case in point (what the hell does that saying mean?): I wandered into a very Victorian looking tea house the other day. Thez have a (NOTE: the "y" and "z" keys are switched on German keyboards, so please excuse the mistakes) great selection of about 40 teas, so naturally I was intrigued. I order an Earl Grey (play it safe first.... i'll be rebellious later). As I am ordering I start chatting with the girl behind the counter.
Zoom ahead an hour: we're sitting down and I am giving her love advice concerning her boyfriend who is a very jealous person. She, however, is totally cool. Mom will be proud: she is Spanish (that's Spain Spanish) and just working and having fun in Munich. Cool! I have practiced my spanish more than my German, unfortunatley... I guess. New friends!
Funny thning: we're chatting and stuff, and the subject of whale watching comes up. Now, mind you, I have never been whale watching before, but as it comes up in our conversation, for no reason whatsoever, I drop that I went whale watching a few years ago. Why the hell did I just lie? I dont look cool or make any money dropping this lie. I just did it. "Oh yeah, I did it once off the coast of Maine." WHAT! That was so unnecessary! I thought it was pretty funny when I was thinking about it later that day. Have you ever dropped a lie, for absolutely no reason whatsoever? I feel dirty.
-Matt
ps. To all of you Project Runway fans out there, namely, Abbie, I actually used the word "caucus" today, as in "no big deal guys, you just caucus about that and let me know." I laughed out loud as I walked away.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Fraternity, Liberty, Equality!
Happy Bastille Day.
Anyway, I realized today that I have superpowers.
Pretty cool, huh? What powers do I have, you might ask?
Smile.
I mentioned in a previous post that I like to frequent this little Italian chain-place by my apartment. It is run by this very charming older Italian man, and he is the only reason I go there. The food is mass-produced, not enough, and sort of bland. But that guy is so nice, that I just keep going back. I was chatting with him at dinner a few nights ago, and he said to me that I have "a good look." Naturally, I let my right hand fall to my side and I put my finger around the trigger of my .45.... just kidding. He then went on to comment on how I am always smiling.
That's when it hit me.
A simple smile can do wonders. Try it out. I dare you. For no reason whatsoever, just be pleasant to the girl behind the counter of Starbucks. Now, of course we must tip-toe along that fine line between being friendly and just being plain creepy, but I have faith in you. You will probably make that person's day.
Which brings me to my next topic: That waitress I wrote about.
I have had requests to post a picture of her. ARE YOU FREAKIN' CRAZY! Here is the only way I could get a picture:
1. Put on my favorite trench coat, fedora, and sunglasses and sit in a van across the street for hours on end, waiting for that perfect photo opportunity.
2. Be Honest. Okay, here's how the conversation will go:
M: Hey, how's it going. Listen, can I take a picture of you?
W: Umm, that's weird. No. Why would you take a picture of me?
M: So that I can post it on the Internet for all my friends and family to see. I've written about you on my nerd-blog a few times.
W: Get out.
M: Does this mean we're not getting married?
W: Not in a million years.
M: So you're saying there's a chance?
There you have it. Have a nice day!
-Matt
Anyway, I realized today that I have superpowers.
Pretty cool, huh? What powers do I have, you might ask?
Smile.
I mentioned in a previous post that I like to frequent this little Italian chain-place by my apartment. It is run by this very charming older Italian man, and he is the only reason I go there. The food is mass-produced, not enough, and sort of bland. But that guy is so nice, that I just keep going back. I was chatting with him at dinner a few nights ago, and he said to me that I have "a good look." Naturally, I let my right hand fall to my side and I put my finger around the trigger of my .45.... just kidding. He then went on to comment on how I am always smiling.
That's when it hit me.
A simple smile can do wonders. Try it out. I dare you. For no reason whatsoever, just be pleasant to the girl behind the counter of Starbucks. Now, of course we must tip-toe along that fine line between being friendly and just being plain creepy, but I have faith in you. You will probably make that person's day.
Which brings me to my next topic: That waitress I wrote about.
I have had requests to post a picture of her. ARE YOU FREAKIN' CRAZY! Here is the only way I could get a picture:
1. Put on my favorite trench coat, fedora, and sunglasses and sit in a van across the street for hours on end, waiting for that perfect photo opportunity.
2. Be Honest. Okay, here's how the conversation will go:
M: Hey, how's it going. Listen, can I take a picture of you?
W: Umm, that's weird. No. Why would you take a picture of me?
M: So that I can post it on the Internet for all my friends and family to see. I've written about you on my nerd-blog a few times.
W: Get out.
M: Does this mean we're not getting married?
W: Not in a million years.
M: So you're saying there's a chance?
There you have it. Have a nice day!
-Matt
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
My Life, the Sit Com
I am currently sitting inside of my old hostel, hijacking their internet connection. Looking around, I notice that the usual cast of characters are all in here. I am going to give you a brief run-down of the people who I see every day.... and an interesting bunch they are. (I hope they never read this: actually, it would be pretty terrible if they did. Executive decision: I am going to change the names to protect the innocent) parenthetical aside in italics: The song by REM "Losing my Religion" just came on the radio. I remember being so afraid of this song as a youngster. It still bothers me to this day.
Slinky: One person described Slinky as the "God of tour guides." That mayhaps be a slight exaggeration, but he is very good at what he does. And he knows it. Slinky is pretty much obsessed with himself. Very charming dude. Granted. But honestly.... you're a tour guide. Slinky seems to believe in the art form that is "guiding." Dude, you are a tour guide. Thankfully, I have no delusions of guiding grandeur. This is a fun job, but I am by no means an artist. Well, now that I think of it.... I am an educator and an entertainer. Maybe there is an art to it.
Jimbo: Jimbo is the dude who stands on the corner handing out flyers for a pub crawl company here. He is not "all there" as they say. No, Jimbo is that kind of person who when they speak to you are staring off into space at the same time. He's not being rude, he's just "not all there." Nice guy besides that, but a bit of a weirdo.
Jack Daniels: Jack runs one of the bike companies here in Munich, and he is freaking hysterical. He is not trying to be, he just is. A big American dude with funny facial hair (think soul patch with a part in the middle), he is basically a giant teddy bear. Very good dude, if maybe not the smartest. He rides his bike around taunting us walking guides in a playful way.
I would continue, as there are so many more, but I am ridiculously hungry. Back in my neighborhood where I live, I have befriended many of the local restaurant owners. There is the bald guy over at Soul Kitchen, the sweet Italian man at Pasta e Basta, and the Jesus-looking dude who runs the nut stand (50 grams of almonds is the usual order for me. Nice healthy snack.) I am feeling Italian. Maybe Spaggetti Carbonara with a nice cappoccino.
OH DUDE!!
I forgot. One last thing. I have a dilemma:
Should I become a stalker?
I know that thought has gone through your head before. Here is the situation: That waitress who I previously mentioned in a post works on Wednesdays at this coffee place. Should I be a total sketch-ball and go there on Wednesdays now? Is that the first step to being a stalker? I mean, I know her schedule. Pretty soon I might set up a mini-shrine dedicated to her in my refrigerator: complete with undercover photo, empty cappoccino cups, and all the change that she has given me. I'm doomed.
-Matt
Slinky: One person described Slinky as the "God of tour guides." That mayhaps be a slight exaggeration, but he is very good at what he does. And he knows it. Slinky is pretty much obsessed with himself. Very charming dude. Granted. But honestly.... you're a tour guide. Slinky seems to believe in the art form that is "guiding." Dude, you are a tour guide. Thankfully, I have no delusions of guiding grandeur. This is a fun job, but I am by no means an artist. Well, now that I think of it.... I am an educator and an entertainer. Maybe there is an art to it.
Jimbo: Jimbo is the dude who stands on the corner handing out flyers for a pub crawl company here. He is not "all there" as they say. No, Jimbo is that kind of person who when they speak to you are staring off into space at the same time. He's not being rude, he's just "not all there." Nice guy besides that, but a bit of a weirdo.
Jack Daniels: Jack runs one of the bike companies here in Munich, and he is freaking hysterical. He is not trying to be, he just is. A big American dude with funny facial hair (think soul patch with a part in the middle), he is basically a giant teddy bear. Very good dude, if maybe not the smartest. He rides his bike around taunting us walking guides in a playful way.
I would continue, as there are so many more, but I am ridiculously hungry. Back in my neighborhood where I live, I have befriended many of the local restaurant owners. There is the bald guy over at Soul Kitchen, the sweet Italian man at Pasta e Basta, and the Jesus-looking dude who runs the nut stand (50 grams of almonds is the usual order for me. Nice healthy snack.) I am feeling Italian. Maybe Spaggetti Carbonara with a nice cappoccino.
OH DUDE!!
I forgot. One last thing. I have a dilemma:
Should I become a stalker?
I know that thought has gone through your head before. Here is the situation: That waitress who I previously mentioned in a post works on Wednesdays at this coffee place. Should I be a total sketch-ball and go there on Wednesdays now? Is that the first step to being a stalker? I mean, I know her schedule. Pretty soon I might set up a mini-shrine dedicated to her in my refrigerator: complete with undercover photo, empty cappoccino cups, and all the change that she has given me. I'm doomed.
-Matt
Sunday, July 8, 2007
All is well!
Hello everybody!
So, what is new in the life of Matt? Well, yesterday I was on the verge of seeing the most awe-inspiring spectacle on the planet... until I chickened out. It is called "Deep Space Night." Jane nearly convinced me to go to this apparently very popular rave in Munich that has a Star Wars theme to it. Serious. Darth Vader comes out in the middle and does a dance with the Storm Troopers. I am not making this stuff up.
Why the hell would I miss such a golden opportunity, you might ask?
Dude, really think about it for a moment. It sounds like a great idea. It might be fun. But in all honesty, it would be hysterical for about 5 minutes... then it would just get scary. These people are actually enjoying this! In order to spend more than 38 seconds in that place, I would need a bag over my head and also be under the influence of heavy horse tranquilizers. I don't think I could handle it otherwise. How do you dress for a thing like that?
Anyway, I didn't go because I decided to go out with another group of friends instead.
Basically, I have three groups of friends here: 1- my tour guide buddies and everybody who works for the company. That's Murdoch, Murray, Jane, Katie (who left for Switzerland), and associates. 2- Natalie and Philip. I met them when I did karaoke at the Irish Pub, and we totally hit it off and are good friends now. Natalie is my partner in musical expression here (we sing at any given opportunity). 3-My German buddies Josef, Steffi, and Sabine. In order to tell how I met them, I must be brutally honest. Sorry! So, I was stumbling home one night (I was....uhh.... studying.... yeah, studying real hard that night) and I see these three people ahead of me. Sabine turns around and asks me something in German, to which I have been programmed to automatically reply "Sprecken zie English?" They were looking for a place to go to, and I just happen to be ending my night, so I showed them someplace and actually stuck around with them. We had a great time! Now, we're buddies and hang out on the weekend. I am actually supposed to meet up with them for an open air opera in about 15 minutes. Good stuff.
Observation of the Day: I love it when people do the "I'm Ready" dance on the subway. When the U-Bahn is totally packed with people, and a person's stop is next, without fail that person will do a little dance of adjustment to signal to the others that, in fact, he or she is ready to exit. I think it's pretty funny.
Thar be it. It's time to steal toilet paper from my old hostel. Come on... they had three weeks of my business: The least they could do is part with a roll of their sand-paper TP. How am I going to get it out of there? Oh god... yeah.... smuggle it in my shirt. Oh, how desperation can turn the most unassuming into the biggest lame-ass. Woe is me.
So, what is new in the life of Matt? Well, yesterday I was on the verge of seeing the most awe-inspiring spectacle on the planet... until I chickened out. It is called "Deep Space Night." Jane nearly convinced me to go to this apparently very popular rave in Munich that has a Star Wars theme to it. Serious. Darth Vader comes out in the middle and does a dance with the Storm Troopers. I am not making this stuff up.
Why the hell would I miss such a golden opportunity, you might ask?
Dude, really think about it for a moment. It sounds like a great idea. It might be fun. But in all honesty, it would be hysterical for about 5 minutes... then it would just get scary. These people are actually enjoying this! In order to spend more than 38 seconds in that place, I would need a bag over my head and also be under the influence of heavy horse tranquilizers. I don't think I could handle it otherwise. How do you dress for a thing like that?
Anyway, I didn't go because I decided to go out with another group of friends instead.
Basically, I have three groups of friends here: 1- my tour guide buddies and everybody who works for the company. That's Murdoch, Murray, Jane, Katie (who left for Switzerland), and associates. 2- Natalie and Philip. I met them when I did karaoke at the Irish Pub, and we totally hit it off and are good friends now. Natalie is my partner in musical expression here (we sing at any given opportunity). 3-My German buddies Josef, Steffi, and Sabine. In order to tell how I met them, I must be brutally honest. Sorry! So, I was stumbling home one night (I was....uhh.... studying.... yeah, studying real hard that night) and I see these three people ahead of me. Sabine turns around and asks me something in German, to which I have been programmed to automatically reply "Sprecken zie English?" They were looking for a place to go to, and I just happen to be ending my night, so I showed them someplace and actually stuck around with them. We had a great time! Now, we're buddies and hang out on the weekend. I am actually supposed to meet up with them for an open air opera in about 15 minutes. Good stuff.
Observation of the Day: I love it when people do the "I'm Ready" dance on the subway. When the U-Bahn is totally packed with people, and a person's stop is next, without fail that person will do a little dance of adjustment to signal to the others that, in fact, he or she is ready to exit. I think it's pretty funny.
Thar be it. It's time to steal toilet paper from my old hostel. Come on... they had three weeks of my business: The least they could do is part with a roll of their sand-paper TP. How am I going to get it out of there? Oh god... yeah.... smuggle it in my shirt. Oh, how desperation can turn the most unassuming into the biggest lame-ass. Woe is me.
Friday, July 6, 2007
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Alive and Well
Jeez, I miss a post for a few days and I feel like I am cheating on you, my faithful reader. Unfortunately, this will be the norm for now on, as I have moved out of my 40-bed dorm room and into my new apartment!
Dude, the place is awesome. I already gave you a run-down of some of the specifics, but after sleeping there for a night, I have a new appreciation. Besides being in the best part of town (Schwabing, the student district), besides being surrounded by countless cafes and restaurants, besides being on a rather quiet street in a house that sits in a wooded courtyard.... I have my own place! The freedom is incredible! No drunk people are puking in my bathroom! It's my own bathroom. No, it doesn't have a shower... but its got a damn good bath tub. I christened that bathtub today (after thoroughly bleaching the entire tub and toilet). Good times.
Unfortunately, I do not have internet at my place (nor TV. But, I do have a tape player with jazz cassettes!), so I will not be able to be online as often as I was before. But I think three times a week or so is totally possible.
In response to a question from Sexy Paul: is there room for a guest. Honestly, I could have four people sleep in the room. My actual room is kind of huge, with a couch and all. So, if anybody wants to come visit little ol' me in Munich, you certainly have a place to stay. Just be ready to take a bath.
I am going to try and post some pictures now. Let's see how that goes.
Cheers!
-Matt
ps. Everything else in life is going great. Tours are going well. Life is grand.
Dude, the place is awesome. I already gave you a run-down of some of the specifics, but after sleeping there for a night, I have a new appreciation. Besides being in the best part of town (Schwabing, the student district), besides being surrounded by countless cafes and restaurants, besides being on a rather quiet street in a house that sits in a wooded courtyard.... I have my own place! The freedom is incredible! No drunk people are puking in my bathroom! It's my own bathroom. No, it doesn't have a shower... but its got a damn good bath tub. I christened that bathtub today (after thoroughly bleaching the entire tub and toilet). Good times.
Unfortunately, I do not have internet at my place (nor TV. But, I do have a tape player with jazz cassettes!), so I will not be able to be online as often as I was before. But I think three times a week or so is totally possible.
In response to a question from Sexy Paul: is there room for a guest. Honestly, I could have four people sleep in the room. My actual room is kind of huge, with a couch and all. So, if anybody wants to come visit little ol' me in Munich, you certainly have a place to stay. Just be ready to take a bath.
I am going to try and post some pictures now. Let's see how that goes.
Cheers!
-Matt
ps. Everything else in life is going great. Tours are going well. Life is grand.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Apartment!
I have a place to sleep that isn't surrounded by 39 other people!
The place, however, has.... hmmm.... "charm."
The building itself is located in a small courtyard off the street. You walk into the courtyard and see a bunch of buildings covered in ivy. Very nice. Then you step inside of my building. Up one flight of stairs, and there's my room. Walk in the door and you are greeted by a small lantern/mini-lamp that hangs at about chin level. Ok, that's kind of weird. No big deal.
To your left is the bathroom. You will see a normal toilet. That's cool, but where's the shower? Um, there is no shower. There's only a bathtub. Hahaha, that's "charming."
The room is decked out in 1930's furniture, including a leather chair (that kind with brass studs around the perimeter. For those of you who don't know my ultimate fantasy/goal in life, it is as follows: I want to have a big study or library in my future house. It will be furnished with leather chairs with brass studs, lots of dark woods, bear skin rugs, and lamps with that green glass. The walls are filled with thousands of history books in wooden bookcases and interspersed with portraits of the Marquis de Lafayette [my idol], Napoleon, FDR or Churchill, and various other historical figures. As I enter the room [in my silk smoking jacket] I reach into my jacket and pull out my pipe. I hate smoking, but I will smoke a pipe in my fantasy world. So, I light the pipe and sit down on my leather chair with brass studs. Right on cue, my two bulldogs waddle into the room to keep me company. The big fat one who sits at my feet: his name is Suleyman the Magnificent [I call him "Sooley" for short]. The fatter one, who slobbers on the furniture.... his name is Lu Bu, but I call him Louie. They enter the room and sit at my feet, while I smoke my pipe. I pluck a volume from the bookcase, and then stare proudly at my antique rifle case that is near the ceiling. Inside, there is an original m-1 Garand and a 1911 colt .45, along with many others. Smiling contently to myself, I think "isn't life grand?") and the room also has a bookcase! Sweet. It also has a nice couch, where many a drunken friend will pass out. Turn the corner and you will see my little kitchenette (that's redundant. Can there be anything but a small kitchenette? A large one would be.... well... a kitchen. I digress...)
It's located in Schwabing, which is the young part of the city. This is where the university is located and is the traditional artistic refuge of the city. Hopefully I'll fit in. I need to find some black rim glasses...
That's about it. I really hope nothing goes wrong with this one. It's perfect.
-Matt
The place, however, has.... hmmm.... "charm."
The building itself is located in a small courtyard off the street. You walk into the courtyard and see a bunch of buildings covered in ivy. Very nice. Then you step inside of my building. Up one flight of stairs, and there's my room. Walk in the door and you are greeted by a small lantern/mini-lamp that hangs at about chin level. Ok, that's kind of weird. No big deal.
To your left is the bathroom. You will see a normal toilet. That's cool, but where's the shower? Um, there is no shower. There's only a bathtub. Hahaha, that's "charming."
The room is decked out in 1930's furniture, including a leather chair (that kind with brass studs around the perimeter. For those of you who don't know my ultimate fantasy/goal in life, it is as follows: I want to have a big study or library in my future house. It will be furnished with leather chairs with brass studs, lots of dark woods, bear skin rugs, and lamps with that green glass. The walls are filled with thousands of history books in wooden bookcases and interspersed with portraits of the Marquis de Lafayette [my idol], Napoleon, FDR or Churchill, and various other historical figures. As I enter the room [in my silk smoking jacket] I reach into my jacket and pull out my pipe. I hate smoking, but I will smoke a pipe in my fantasy world. So, I light the pipe and sit down on my leather chair with brass studs. Right on cue, my two bulldogs waddle into the room to keep me company. The big fat one who sits at my feet: his name is Suleyman the Magnificent [I call him "Sooley" for short]. The fatter one, who slobbers on the furniture.... his name is Lu Bu, but I call him Louie. They enter the room and sit at my feet, while I smoke my pipe. I pluck a volume from the bookcase, and then stare proudly at my antique rifle case that is near the ceiling. Inside, there is an original m-1 Garand and a 1911 colt .45, along with many others. Smiling contently to myself, I think "isn't life grand?") and the room also has a bookcase! Sweet. It also has a nice couch, where many a drunken friend will pass out. Turn the corner and you will see my little kitchenette (that's redundant. Can there be anything but a small kitchenette? A large one would be.... well... a kitchen. I digress...)
It's located in Schwabing, which is the young part of the city. This is where the university is located and is the traditional artistic refuge of the city. Hopefully I'll fit in. I need to find some black rim glasses...
That's about it. I really hope nothing goes wrong with this one. It's perfect.
-Matt
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