Can I get a friend please?

I put off writing this week, partly because I had yet to feel inspired...and I still sort of don't. I have had some mild moments of panic, wondering if this is right for me or if I just ran away from real life, prolonging the inevitable... and not being sure exactly what that is. I don't want to write over and over about my worries because they are constant and a plenty. It's my style, the way I was constructed. I worry and I worry obnoxiously. If it annoys me, it is surely going to annoy you. I just figured I would blog when that feeling passed, and the longer I've been here the more the concern grows that maybe it will not pass. At the same time, anguish and apprehension flow through my veins faster than the Amazon river (which according to my research is one of the fastest rivers in the world, so you get my drift). With that knowledge, I have to force my gears to idle and my heartbeat to slow because if not, panic will turn into dread, and I will be convinced that running backward is what I need to do. I just refuse to do that.


With that said, I decided to take off on Wednesday instead of Saturday (I usually have Saturday and Sunday off) and go into town. Buses don't run into the city on the weekends, which is ass backwards to me, so I had to do it that way unless I wanted to drive, and I'm still a scaredy cat about driving. It's the worry thing again. It was gorgeous out, and I desperately needed a cocktail, secretly. I got there at about 10am and just sat at the first coffee shop I saw once I stepped out of the car. Coffee shops are everywhere, coffee and baked goods are a form of religion here, even if the coffee tastes like butthole... which I have found it to every now and then. I sat there awhile, pretending to be busy texting on my Blackberry, which I totally wasn't because it was 3am to everyone I know, but it was a decent cover up nonetheless. I had some coffee, a croissant, and a Riesling (haha) and then I took off in search of sunglasses. Finally found some sunglasses at a Walgreens-type shop, and of COURSE picked the pair with no price tag, just to make sure the attention is drawn on me. There I was, the american girl that no one knows and all the sudden hates. Meanwhile, another store clerk went in search of a price while I got to sit there holding up the line of bustling Germans wanting their deodorant and cigarettes and utilizing their time burning looks of condescending annoyance into the back of my head. I swear, if there is an uncomfortable spotlight, this girl will find it. In my embarrassed haste, I miscounted my euros, making myself look even more unintelligent as the lady retold me the amount owed. Finally I was allowed to silently sprint from the store. Kill me now, God.

I then had lunch at another cafe ran by some older ladies who obviously couldn't speak a lick of English. Why NOT choose this spot Ash? Staring at the menu, I searched for words I recognized. I found one word, surrounded by several more I didn't recognize, pointed at it, and ordered the damn thing. I figured I'd never been a picky eater, and as long as it wasn't something picked up off the ground, I'd eat it...happily. With that I ordered water and Prosecco, which is like their Milwaukee's Best of champagne. It's cheap, everywhere, and I will TAKE IT. Lunch turned out to be delish and the break I needed. See photo.


After, I had more champagne at a little coffee shop/bar, and came up with a plan. Espresso, then champagne, then espresso again, before another champagne. I didn't want to get drunk my first day out on my own (tacky) so I thought this a good strategy. The bartender was very nice, and spoke decent English, so I asked her if anyone else had ever come up with that brilliant plan. She told me no...they will usually alternate glasses of water, and laughed at me. Well WHATEVER, I call the shots. The espresso shots. I then took off on my way to the bus stop where I was to take the last bus of the day to Finning, where I live. I got there over a half hour early, and somehow still managed to overlook the bus once it got there and left. INFURIATING. So, as I'm getting over my carbonated booze buzz, hot and tired from walking around town for 8 hours alone, I then have to trek over to a taxi and pay him half my arm and all of my leg for a ride home because I can't manage to read correctly, apparently. I am still convinced the blasted bus was a no-show, and I will maintain that until proven otherwise. 


The day could be categorized in a sort of beautiful mediocrity. I had had some high hopes on meeting a friend, but I am not quite sure what I expected. It isn't a large town, and I can't expect people to beg me for my friendship when we can barely communicate at all. Daniela says next week she will take me to Munich which is much bigger, and show me around. After that I can take a train there alone and maybe then I will be able to exercise my social muscles a little more. If you let it, this environment can absorb you a little. I feel like that little boy that got swallowed by the huge whale. It is still roomy in the whale's mouth, but the boundaries are very apparent. You can see where your allowance for movement ceases without having to look far. It has been a week and a half. I have plenty of time, and if I'm aware of a million other things, that is the thing that is boldly italicized. My whale is a friendly whale and he will soon open wide enough and let me out.


 bis zum nächsten Mal

Switzerland has more than just holey cheese.

Saturday, Daniela and Marcel (the couple I live with) had plans to visit Marcel's family in Switzerland. It is only a little over an hour's drive from where we live. He grew up there and loves it, and they invited me to come along. He drove, and I'm pretty sure I remained in a state of cardiac arrest for the majority of the drive. Considering that there is no speed limit on the Autobahn (a 2 lane highway on each side, set up like I-90), he took this opportunity to "shave off" as much time as possible, and get there "quick." Speed is measured in kilometers per hour, and we went about 180-220 km/h the entire way. That is roughly 110-140 mph. Really? Because that is completely necessary? European car engines are designed to take regular gasoline and diesel gasoline, and I think this enables cars to be capable of driving that fast without blowing up... or something. I haven't done research and probably won't bother to either, so I apologize in advance for my girlish explanation. Anyway, we managed to get there safe, and apparently he drives that way all the time. And here I was thinking he was just showing off for me.


Most people under 40 can speak English in Europe. In school students are required to learn to speak three languages fluently (awesome, huh?) Well, Marcel's family spoke no English, so your buddy Ashley here got to sit in a chair on the patio smiling and pretending to be interested in what Lio was doing, which was the same thing for hours....so I actually just looked like a creep staring at the toddler the whole time. I do remember my cheeks hurting at one point and being annoyed with that realization. And then on top of it, they do the whole kiss-on-the-cheek hello and goodbye. It's not like one on each cheek either like in France, it's three times. So I haven't spoken to these people in hours outside of uncomfortable gesturing, and then I have to kiss all 78 of them goodbye...times three?! I'm already an awkward enough individual as it is, so I am sure that they were like "get the hell out of here weirdo"...but I would never really know, because I couldn't have understood their thoughts had I heard them anyway! In the grand scheme of things, their smiles seemed genuine, and all of that was a small price to pay for what I got to see all day. Plus, the coffee is delicious, and I sipped it slowly in effort to look occupied a midst the bustling conversation that I in no way could be included in. I laugh while typing this in recollection as it is embarrassingly humorous.


Marcel made sure he drove through a part of Austria on the way to Switzerland, and I was able to get some pictures. In one, you will see that we are on a bridge over the Rhine river, and Switzerland is on the right, and Austria on the left. Completely amazing, and I thought standing on a state line was SUPER COOL. You can tell that Marcel is very proud of where he comes from, he talks about it lovingly, like he invented Switzerland or something. He has taken the time to explain to me why it is an independent nation from the EU (the European Union, kind of like in the United States with the Union versus the Confederacy...but not really). You can hear some bitterness when he talks about the EU. I don't understand much now, but my brain has taken in its full capacity of knowledge daily since I got here, so it is only a matter of time.


On the terrifying drive home, we passed a lot of signs that were aimed for tourists, directing people to castles. There's just castles everywhere! And then we saw some skydivers in their parachutes heading for land! I was blown away by that! Marcel says that it is pretty common and that they most likely did not jump from an airplane, but from one of the peaks in the Swiss Alps! Umm... AWESOME! I tried my hardest to get some pictures of the mountains, but if it's even a little cloudy you cannot see them well because they are so tall and enormous. I got some pictures of some huge "hills," though. I thought that THOSE were what the mountains were supposed to be, but Marcel and Daniela were hardly impressed and scoffed at my misconception. I guess I should have told them that when they come to Wisconsin, I will show them one hell of a dairy farm. Maybe then I'd be allowed to be impressed with a giant damn "HILL."


The children behaved, the day turned out to be the second sunny and beautiful day I've seen since I got here, and my camera was able to pull out it's best game yet. I will always say that the photos cannot do this place justice, and I mean it, but at least you can see what they are working with. I am one lucky SOB.


Bis zum nächsten mal

Just a walk in the park

Friday was much better. The sun came out and I became this manic nanny on a mission. We must go on a walk, I must bring my camera, I must not look at the pictures I am taking when I take them because I insist on capturing the beauty without aiming at it. Bavaria is breathtaking. I've looked at it like the slums of Detroit the last couple of days because everything has been coated in a gray film and my hair has consistently stayed damp. Even the sky is prettier. I've never been very religious, but the sun comes through the clouds and it instantly takes you to a celestial state of mind...it is almost psychodelic. All I could think about was the unjustified image my camera was going to display later when I uploaded the photos onto my computer. There is just no way to illustrate in words the distinction and unscathed beauty that is the Bavarian countryside.

Anyway, I put the munchkins into a weird yet high tech european stroller and we were off. I live in a small village called Finning. It is about 26 miles from Munich. There are 3 or 4 small villages that surround the town of Landsberg am Lech. It is kind of like Landsberg is Chicago and Finning is a suburb. A tiny suburb...with no gas station, stop lights, or bars. When you picture in your head your version of what you see a village looking like, you are probably more accurate than you think. There is one school, I assume the children of all ages attend there, but I've yet to see any children over 13 or so...but like I said, I've been blinded by rain all week so who knows.

This week there was a traveling trailer that set up a circus style tent in the courtyard of the school. In it were tons of activities for children; sewing, carpentry, painting, etc. I am not sure what their purpose is, but if I had to guess I would assume their cause was to make their way through villages giving children something to do, something different and more exciting than what they are used to in a place where life is mostly mundane. Mundane doesn't always have to be a negative adjective describing life though. Not here. These kids will all grow up to be resourceful, kind, uncomplicated individuals. This small yet productive environment will ensure that. I almost want to get emotional thinking of how much we could learn from this unpracticed yet improved way of life. Don't get me wrong, these aren't farmer's running around not knowing what the hell Google is, they just don't view it as a necessity. I have wifi where I live, and I'm sure most people do, it just isn't what defines these people. They are more concerned with how much more inexpensive it is to buy your flowers at the wholesale market rather than a flower shop.

Lio was pretty intimidated by the strangers and older kids that he didn't know around the tent, so we went to the playground instead. He obviously wanted to slide, so he went up to the top and slid down to the bottom. Afterward he was pretty pissed because his butt got soaked from the little rain puddle left at the top that he dragged all the way to the bottom. Ohh Lio. I got a good before and after shot though, pretty hysterical. Daniela came to the park and they played so then Mia and I did a little swinging together. She had some sun in her eyes, but sadly my sunglasses were a little too big for her 8 month old head. It was a simple yet completely satisfying day. The perfect remedy to my ailing thursday. I would've paid a million euro for my reclaimed sense of belonging that the sunshine gave back to me.

I do remember telling myself that if I was a painter I could perhaps seize the significance that was my first friday in Germany. Considering words are my paintbrush, I have to hope that Germany will accept my pen instead.

Bis zum nächsten mal

I Will Have Weak Moments...and that's ok.

I can't figure out what was different today. Maybe it was that I talked to my boyfriend on the phone for the first time. Maybe it was that it has been so difficult to get my boyfriend on the phone UNTIL today. Maybe it was that it is so difficult because I am 7 hours ahead in time, therefore I couldn't manage to mathematically organize a proper phone conversation successfully. It could be that I am running on a lack of vitamin D as well. It has been raining since tuesday morning. The seasons and weather are similar to the midwest, so I don't anticipate these rainy blues forever, and I am a big girl and can handle it. A little sunlight may brighten up this looming dark cloud; that although small, has still descended on this thursday. I suppose it was all of those things in combination with the horse-sized pill that I may have finally swallowed. A slight homesickness has started to incubate and its manifestation seems inevitable :(

Don't get me wrong, there are no complaints on this end. The fact that I am searching for a logical reason that's colored in black and white makes me feel better already. It proves I am not questioning this decision and not questioning the option of quitting it. Maybe it had to do with the immensely overwhelming support I have received in the less-than-one week I've been gone. I've never been an overly sensitive mushy gusher, but I inhaled much heavier than I am used to when I was reading everyone's messages of love and support, and my exhales were slightly sharp and short in effort to hold back tears. While it made me feel so much farther away, it also made me feel so much more purposeful. Those emotions in themselves will fill the void that is white and black with every color of the rainbow. That rainbow is ever more important than the raindrops that has filled this week and the cloud that has taken its temporary shelter over my eyes.

I once read that there are actually theories that color holds power over us. Maybe it's the cerulean blue of my boyfriend's eyes or the yellow mustard stain on my couch cushion at home. Maybe its the neons hanging in the windows of Legends, or my green rug that so badly needs vacuuming. It could also be the black dressy sandals I forgot to pack that has so robbed me of my thrilling thursday, but either way, that theory holds truth for me. I miss those damn things in a very colorful and very powerful way.

I must be thirsty today because my glass seems to be a little more half empty than usual, but this blog is about me; my emotions, my experiences, and also for my special on Oprah's comeback show one day. It won't be fake, won't always be good, but will always be annoyingly me.
Today was just fine, but tomorrow will be better. It can't rain forever.

Bis zum nächsten mal

A Little About the Children (so far)

There is a bigger reason for me being in Germany. I am responsible for teaching 2 toddlers the American way in which we speak English. Did you know that English people hate the way Americans speak their language? Yet most of Europe still prefers our dialect over the latter.

The children are 2 years (Lio) and 8 months (Mia). They are completely adorable, and utterly spoiled. I will fix that...later. Lio has his mother in the palm of his hand. She's aware of this, and seems to be okay with it. He is almost always smiling, and even when you tell him "Nein" (no), he will comply with a smile. I think he does this because he knows he will try his unlawful actions again in 5 minutes, whatever they may be. He eats everything on his plate, and then some. He loves corn, and he loves his sister. He also loves liverwurst spread...totally bizarre. His favorite song is "Good Life" by OneRepublic. He has a stuffed animal that already looks older than myself, but I can relate because I absolutely brought my Little Foot (Land Before Time) stuffed into my carry-on. The same carry-on that had to get searched (mind you), so all of the uber classy brits got to see the 24 year old american with her dirty ratty stuffed dinosaur. Classy, Ash, keep it classy. Lio has giant brown eyes and he looks at the world with adventure and pure adoration. The only thing I've seen that boy cry about other than his empty belly was the moving walkway at the Munich airport. Scared the bajeezus out of him.

Mia doesn't say much, but makes a tremendous amount of noise. She would easily win a baby food jar eating contest. I'll be taking bets all next week. She also has the biggest brown eyes, thanks to her Papa. She likes to be played with and held a lot... if attention ventures in another direction, she will instantly let you know of her dissatisfaction. I have continued to remind myself that she is totally at that age, and she is also teething. When she's happy, she's laughing... that can almost surely erase the memory of the aggravated whining that may have been only minutes before. She loves that Lio is so attentive to her, and she loves to dance. She's a better dancer than I am, in fact. I consider her a clean freak because she eats a lot of pampers baby wipes, and her favorite song is the German one Daniela sings to her when she's fussy.

It will be impossible not to love these kids for my whole life with a whole heart. 48 hours has been long enough just to note the things that are already so obvious. I have already caught myself hugging them when they're in my lap...smooching kisses all over their faces. I fix their hair when it's messed up and make sure they have socks on. Today, I taught Lio how to make a wish in a wishing well. He had no idea what I was saying, but one day he will. He thoroughly enjoyed throwing my money into the fountain, so I at least know that all of us are taking these baby steps together.

Bis zum nächsten mal (until next time)

Goodbye Wisconsin, Hello 48 hour travel time.

Somewhere in my procrastinated scramble to bring this all together, I thought it would be a good idea to just stay up drinking with my friends, seeing as I would have to leave for the airport at 5:30am anyways, and I had yet to even pack. That was a horrible plan. Not only did I end up with 4 bags I was assuming I would just check onto the plane (would have cost me more than $200 probably...idiot), but I also felt like a sort of horrible death.

Kayce and Andy's engagement party was that sunday, so once I'd convinced my post-going away party hangover to get in gear, my thought process was already in motion. So drinking it was. Arriving home at a ripe 1am, and after getting all packed and ready to go (sort of), I heartbreakingly said goodbye to the most supportive and loving boyfriend to have ever lived, hugged my adorably stupid cats, and got in my mother's car. Still drunk and not loving it.

After being yelled at for my Grade F packing job, my mom made me empty all of my things out and condense them into only 2 suitcases. I suppose it would look slightly pretentious getting off the plane with 4 bags and 2 carry-ons. What kind of peon au pair is so high maintenance? Not to mention the European compact car I was going to have to shove all that into? Good thinkin, Ma. If she didn't own an SUV that I could crawl around the back of, unfolding and refolding items of clothing, I probably would've just threw a bag or 2 out the window, cursing at the sun. I hate packing!!

I slept for about 4 hours on the 8 hour plane trip. The first couple hours were rough, ohhhmahgod. At one point, I did have to ask the man next to me for his extra bottle of water, due to the fact that I thought I might throw up at any given time. He begrudgingly obliged my request, probably after seeing my pale, ghastly, used-to-be drunk face. I'm sure the overhaul of nerves didn't help my already weak stomach either. By the way, who's great idea was Vanilla Doctor McGillicuddy's? Remind me to open-palmed smack them in the face.

I landed in London at 10:45pm, 5:45 central time, where my layover was to be overnight until 7am the next day. My thoughts were that I would just rome around, maybe smoke a "fag" and mingle with the smart talking folk. Maybe pick up a baguette and some lukewarm mineral water. You know, fit in. Uh, no. The HUGE international airport was CLOSED! No shops open, I had to walk pushing a dolley with a bad wheel and 2 overpacked suitcases on it all over the place looking for a BUS to take me to a whole different terminal. For some reason these people could take one good look at my forehead as it screamed AMERICAN, so I tried to hide my accent as much as possible when asking for help...which is pretty hard when it is the way that you TALK. Luckily, I ran into an english angel who was my age, traveling back from Iowa, USA to her hometown near Manchester in Britain. Small world after all, huh? So we latched on to eachother until about 5 am when she had to jump on her flight. Thank God for her or the boredom would've surely killed me. So, yes, I was finally able to baguette with the best of 'em.

Overall, the trip went very smooth. The family's great, my room and set-up is ideal, and the countryside is damn gorgeous. I'm going to start jogging soon since this is a great place to do it, once I learn where the hell I'm going. For sake of not making this first post any longer than necessary, I'll end now.

bis das naechste Mal. That means, "til next time." Yes, I totally just googled that. I'm not that good...yet.