Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Aardvark dream
I am in the back of a taxi with a girl who has an aardvark, maybe an anteater, colored black and white like a badger. There is a weird morphing accomplished by the aardvark because at various times there are two girls in the backseat vs. one girl and one aardvark. At one point the aardvark is wearing a skirt and I see its bush.
I scratch the aardvark behind its ears. New plumage appears, feathers like a bird's. He likes that, says the girl. I am asking all of these questions, probably because I am nervous. What does he eat? Where do you find enough ants for this thing?
This taxi we are in is out in the middle of nowhere. We arrived at this rural location via another taxi, whose driver we believed knew how to get us to our destination but got lost and handed us off to this other taxi, in which I met the aardvark.
One of the girls in the backseat slips me a note. I am embarrassed. It is addressed to John, but how does she know my name, we just met, and yet my name was already on this thing. It's a valentine. It says, "I love you." Signed by Morgan, her name. She is slow, but she and the aardvark are one.
5.29.2002
May 29, 2002
[7:08 am]
DREAMS
Went to sleep last night pretty early, somewhere around ten o’clock. I was not in a very good mood. At midnight I woke up with a terrible headache, got up and took some aspirin. Advil. Three. With tap water. Lay back down. The mattresses here at West End are easily the worst we’ve come across thus far on our trip. They seem to have springs in them and not much else. I couldn’t get to sleep right away because my head was hurting, I wasn’t comfortable, and my right nostril wasn’t drawing any air. So I got up again and went into the bathroom and took an allergy pill. At 7:06 am, when I woke up this morning, the headache was mostly gone and my nasal passages are as clear as the sky out the window. Halcyon even. Maybe I can even see some mountains in the distance. Em is sleeping.
Anyway, my dream. Main thread. Al Qaeda attacks Belleville, Illinois. Planes fall from out of the sky, spinning in tight circles as they neared the earth. One hit maybe a water tower because me and (who else was it: Taylor? Ryan Klesko?) somebody was at one point running for higher ground and I started “running” on my hands because I wasn’t fast enough on my feet. Al Qaeda had earlier sent a burning van into some building that had a lot of gasoline in it. Everyone was mad at an apartment landlord because supposedly he had let Al Qaeda guys stay there. Don’t know if he was “with them” or just dim-witted.
The with-them theme became prevalent in the main body of this particular thread of last night’s dreaming. Sorry to say that there was more, much more, throat slashing. The fortunate thing was that my friends from this reality were all on my side—the same side as me—during the dream. Ray, Phil Williams, Nick Adams, Taylor, maybe even Ryan Davinroy. But a bunch of other Americans had apparently gone over to the Al Qaeda side and were prepared to kill us in the anarchic hand-to-hand combat if we didn’t kill them. My knife was the same one I bought at the Belleville Fairgrounds gun show years ago with Ray and Paul L. It was nice and sharp to start out with and I was slashing a lot of throats. But eventually it became dull and even ineffective. Phil W showed up around this point—I want to say his girlfriend Emily was with him—and he had one of those knives that folds up into a harmless holed metal rectangle cube. So he did a bit of slashing and stabbing for a while. At some point I got somebody else’s knife but by this point it wasn’t clear that the people we killed had really died. And it seemed like there were dopplegangers of some of the people fighting with us. I think we just got tired of knifing each other after a while.
At one point someone had said, “What’s the benefit of using a knife?” There weren’t any guns. And someone replied, either me or Phil, “It doesn’t run out of bullets.”
My nose is stuffing up again. But I’d rather sit & write in snotty silence than blow it & get Emily out of bed. Hope today goes well on that front, otherwise I’m going to need some serious time to myself. [7:28 am]
The shops yesterday in Munich weren’t all that great. I wanted to go into a record shop and Emily said, “What? Do you even own a record player?” No. Well, then you’re not looking at records. I almost said FUCK YOU but I held it back thankfully. Sorry, Ray. Maybe I’ll get there on my own, or find one in Berlin.
We walked through a pretty ritzy shopping area and through there to a place a little less ritzy. We had desserts at a Café Rishcart, a chain I later understood. Language hang-up there when woman helping me said, “Alles?” As in, is that all you want; I thought she was saying something akin to, “For here or to go?” so I was like, “Hier. Hier.” Finally she said in English “Is that all?” And I said yes. She looked a little exasperated because the people ordering before us were at least half American so it’s gotta be at least somewhat awkward working as a German in a German café in Munich trying to speak the assumed language to everyone but having to break down into English. Disheartening? I don’t know. Eventually the whole language barriers won’t be a big deal because one or two languages will prevail, & everyone will know them. That’s already the case with English pretty much. And there seems to be, understandably, a lot of resentment on behalf of the non-native English speakers in response to this. Maybe they are feeling overrun.
The dessert was good anyway, some sort of strawberry & cream croissant with pretty tasty strawberries (though they weren’t amazing). After Hofbrauhaus we went into a big-ass, six-floor Borders-like store. I was looking for a blank book & Em went in too, just cause I wanted to. I went up to the fifth floor, a little silly drunk & got detached from Em. Came all the way back down via stairs and got herded out out of the stairs. Couldn’t find Em. Went back in & found her on third or so floor. She’s like don’t do that again. Do what again? Go running off like that, you went all the way to the top. No I didn’t. So we left there & were looking for some Internet Café, which we both wanted to stop at. We had stopped at one other one that looked pretty lame, a pizzeria that happened to have a computer terminal at each of its tables. We passed on it.
[Alarm goes off #3]
It was difficult finding the other one. I really had to go to the bathroom—Em had gone in Hoffbrau Haus—and since it didn’t look like we were finding it anytime soon I went into a dept. store, down a floor and all the way to the back; it was a grocery store on this floor and looked like a cool place to shop. It was an immaculate piss and would make my all-time Top 100 pisses. Actually, I think that pizzeria was the place we were looking for and from there we decided to visit the one near the airport—I keep calling the train stations the airports—and also get some Nord See fast fish food at some point. We stop at another Brau Haus and Em goes to the bathroom while I wait outside.
We walk a ways to the train station, do some looping around, pass a Nord See on the outside of the station & eventually locate the Internet Café, which is called Times Square. A nice little place actually & I assume I will be back if not today then tomorrow.
(What I just did now—Em’s in the shower—I also did yesterday when I was in the bathroom. What were you doing in there? What do you think I was doing in there? I really had to go last night, but I couldn’t because people were in the room….) [8:01 am]
Anyway, the Internet Café was .5€ for every 5 mins. and I was on about 21 mins., so like 2€ which isn’t bad at all. Definitely go back, get some drinks, coffee. I e-mailed Brook (twice). She is going to be an aunt she said, her sister Jorin is going to have a baby. Good news. So I told her to send my congrats. And one e-mail Brook sent says she was baking so I asked her to tell me about how that turned out. I also e-mailed Nick saying hello. I got an e-mail back from Ray but he was going to write more later and sounded a bit in doldrums maybe because all of his friends (Me, Phil, Carrie) are out of town & others have left (Brent, Nick). Said something about if he didn’t have to come into work he wouldn’t even hear his own voice. And got an e-mail from Jeff U about wanting to hang in Chicago for the weekend but my priority plan –for reunion weekend I mean— is to chill with Eric Peters so I’m gonna have to get back to Jeff on that one. It’d be fine but I’m afraid that travelling or vacationing with Jeff would be not that much different than vacationing w/ Em but we’ll see. Otherwise I checked world news and sports news. The Chandra Levy case takes a turn, which Em got all excited about: they are sure the body they found in Rock Creek Park is hers.
After Internet we went to Nord See—not the one in the station. Then we came back through the station—Viennetta—and walked home. Em is done with her shower. Then it’s my turn & then some breakfast. [8:13 am]
[9:44 am]
DACHAU
On S-Bahn S-2 going to Dachau. Skies got cloudy. Elderly man across aisle sipping on a Lowenbrau. Emily didn’t bring her water. L aim. To travel we’re using our 17.50€ all-zones, all modes of transport pass—purchased at EurAide Reiseburo. It was possible to use EuRail pass for this trip but it would count as a day so we didn’t. Through an area of nice little homes with gardens. Obermenzing. Elderly man switches seats. Maybe he saw me looking at him.
Slight problem: our superpass is only good for the—
[11:26 am]
Sitting down in 250 max. person theater. About to watch documentary.
[8:51 pm]
WEST END
Can’t believe how late it stays light here. Got a haircut today and it was a tough, a frustrating and frightening experience. From this, I will say this: there is a lot of resentment for America in the world, and for good reason (though prejudice, racism, and resentment can never be justified—just understood). The man who cut my hair did a decent but not very meticulous job. I knew very little German, he knew very little English. He gave his fellow barber a rolled-eyes look as I sat down in my chair after coming to him & saying, “Sprechen zie English?” He said yes. And I said can I get a haircut. And he just kind of stared at me, well— Fuck this, I don’t want to write about this. It was in the Hauptbonhaf that I got my hair cut by this man. I felt like he gave me a half-assed haircut and it wasn’t like he couldn’t have done a good job just because I didn’t know English. The haircut was 13€.
I paid not him but a woman working at the counter. It’s a workable haircut though I had to come back here and cut off a spot in front that he totally missed. I forgot to fucking tip him. It never even crossed my mind, I was so flustered and just wanting to get back to the hotel & shower. What I have to say is that I stopped in at one other Friseur and spoke in English to a not bad-looking 30-yr. old or so woman who was in her shop alone and asked me if I had a date—she corrected herself gaily—an appt. at 6:00. I didn’t.
She said she was very sorry & she was; she recommended any of 3 shops in the Hbf to me. She was very amiable and there was no gloom for America in her demeanor toward me. So I am generalizing and stereotyping. I am trying to speak from the barber’s shoes w/o knowing anything at all about him. Who knows what it was like, me to come up to him & ask for a haircut. Who the fuck knows what complexities might make me feel better or worse about the situation. One thing though: what about my responsibility here?
To be able to get my haircut in Germany by speaking German. That is my responsibility & I did not uphold it, so shame on me. And I could have said to him, “Ich möchte mir das Haar scheiden lassen, bitte.” Which is in the phrase book & which I knew by memory at the time but because of timidity or/and nervousness I did not say. That would have been a place to start.
It seems to be there are at least two ways to be an ignorant traveler abroad: (a) you can ill-prepare for your trip—not do any research, not learn any of the destination country’s language & not care about it, expecting to get by because the denizens of the host country will know your language, and you cannot give two rusty fucks about the burden that you heap upon the hosts; and/or, (b) you can have at least a little knowledge and/or interest in the host country—its customs, its layout, its offerings, its language—and because of laziness, fear, timidity you can decide not to act on this knowledge of yours in which case you’re just about as pathetic as Traveler A, but not quite.
I fall into both categories. I was not at all prepared for this trip and it has been, for this reason, very stressful. Though I would come to regret it, if I were offered a ticket home right now, I would take it.
But I’m not going anywhere so that’s just an idle thought. I would like to think that for the sake of the world my incursion into the barber shop—friseur—in the UG of the Munchen Hbf is an act that bore no consequences but I know that it did. I, an American, had my haircut today by an aging German who clipped the scissors very briskly and looked glad to be done w/ my cut—13, 14 mins. at most.
Everywhere I have gone & bumbled through the language barrier I have littered inconsideracies that, whether it be just or not, are colored w/ stars & stripes and over time that shit adds up. Just as each plastic bottle that doesn’t get thrown away (let alone recycled)—where is all of this litter going to go? There won’t be enough room for it after a while. Each act has its consequence & the consequence of my haircut today… {it’s fairly dark now, and hurting my eyes to write}. [9:20 pm]
Em is asleep. I’m clinging to last of light. I labelled date incorrectly. I have not been keeping any ToC for this book & it will be a bitch to do at some point. Feel like I can’t afford to spend the time on it right now.
[9:44 pm]
Em is up now and I’ve turned the light on. We’re getting ready to go to Munich Party Zone. A bunch of clubs in an old potato processing plant. I got Em up at 9:30 pm and she thinks I’m jumping the gun a bit. But we’re not real familiar with the area and we haven’t had dinner yet. I munched on a few of Brook’s cookies. They still taste quite fine to me. If I had my fucking tortilla chips from yesterday, now would have been a fine time to eat them.
I also got some shopping done today and I was a little manic throughout the experience, I think—influencing the haircut idea in the first place—because I had no sense of time, I went to the change rooms twice, once with two items (pants, 100% polyester, one black one grey, 15€ each, on sale, Grosse: 102). I have no idea how the sizes are working here. Chance was on my side; those were the first two things I tried on, though I didn’t buy them, & they did fit me right. So grosse 102. I bought one pair grayish-black polyester-like linen fabric. I think 30€, which really isn’t bad. Then I got two dress shirts, one blue stripes, one purple checked. Em likes the purple so that’s what I’m wearing tonight. Bought these three items for a total of 70€ in bargain basement of store called Karstädt. Then went up to 3rd floor Damen and was coming down a bit off my high but still bought a black belt (reversible!) for 15€. Saw a great shirt & would have gotten it but it was short-sleeved. Got out after that & went looking for a haircut. Haven’t shopped like that in maybe 2 years.
Brook’s picture to me today was “DISCO,” a little disco ball that I rather liked. Just looked at it about 30 mins. ago. Noticed that she didn’t close the “o” in Disco so it looked like “DISCU,” and I’m thinking that perhaps the left-open “o” signifies her fear that disco also means me dancing, potentially with savory German divas which I don’t blame her she’d probably rather not think about. She doesn’t want to be complicit in this or condone it in any way, so she didn’t close the “o,” an unconscious signal to me that she’d prefer if I didn’t close the “o” either and she’ll be glad to know I have no plans to do so—but I do plan on having a saucy good time.
Lunch was an otherwise undazzling Italian ristorante joint south of Karlsplatz. I ordered peperoni pizza and got pizza with peperonicis on it. So I ate it. We also got some bread & I ate that with olive oil. Em got spaghetti w/ lochs that was pretty good. The pants she was gonna wear have a broken zipper—too bad. Should I just throw them away? Well, unless you’re gonna get them exchanged you might as well cause they’re just takin up room in your pack. [10:09 pm]
I was in a fairly crummy mood after lunch today, don’t know why. Dachau was a memorable trip this morning. Could do nothing else in the day & would have accomplished something, had a story to tell, mark on X on the calendar. Took some photos. The documentary contained gruesome footage. What a horrible time in those peoples’ lives! What a living nightmare! Some prisoners would run into forbidden zone near the walls because they knew that they could get shot that way & die a relatively untortuous death. Soup-water and stale bread to eat. Disease dysentery torture emaciation isolation cramped living quarters getting kicked in the shins by some bum who’s lucky he wasn’t born with your name half-burned bodies clogging up the furnaces during 41 during the coal shortage sending mom a mother’s day card from the concentration camp smuggling paper and pen to write down or draw singing songs to stay happy giving up your dignity when you enter the door because that’s the price of admission except of course you didn’t ask to go there but life didn’t give you any other option and you just had to pray that someday you would live to be free again.
Monuments say do not forget what has happened here do not forget why you came here why there is something here in Dachau Germany that people come from more than 34 countries to see it was death and Nazism and discrimination and the evil that we as humans were capable of then are still capable of now and always will be capable of into the future do not forget what is here why it is here because here can be anywhere and to be on either side is nowhere anyone should want to be ever again in the future to come.
[10:18 pm]
5.28.2002
May 28, 2002
[9:32 am]
TO MUNICH
On bahn.
Heading to Munich. This morning Em wakes me up at seven. I get up & take pack into shower w/ me. Unload what I need. See that there’s no shower curtain & set pack aside. Take my shower. Brush teeth. Em is dressed when I get out of shower (she showered last night). Get everything ready, all misc. items including towel & shoes back into pack. Fully dressed. Take only day packs to breakfast. Many youth also up. Long line. Em just got coffee & sat down. Neither of us was going to get anything we decided. We could eat at the—I said airport—train station. A Mitzy sighting at breakfast but no contact. Went back to room after our cups of coffee. The roomies had gotten up; before, while I showered, we dressed & got ready, they had remained in bed. We had been as quiet as possible. Get back & they are up & dressed, so as soon as we left they must have gone into action mode. Freshening up, getting changed & ready. They left the room before we did. Em & I went & checked out. I got my passport.
We walked down toward the road where we could catch our bus. Em was fishing in her Buddha coin purse for 1.80€. I was thinking about how I had gathered my fare this morning, the exact amount; it was now sitting by its lonesome in my left jeans pocket. John, I don’t think I have one-eighty. I checked my other pockets. Came up with .15€, which gave her 1.55€.
That’s all I’ve got, Em, I don’t know what to tell you. I asked you if you needed any change and you didn’t say anything. Well, I don’t need any change! She went back to the check-out counter and got 2 2€ and 1 1€. So we were in business. [9:47 am] (Train has stopped; Man said something over speaker, people don’t look too upset; Gewërbeflacher; A lumberyard; Cute girl eating a banana.)
On the road, dusty, green, we pass a riff-raff group of seven or so and one looks me up & down a bit derisively, I thought. At breakfast the guy who said “Hallo!” out of the 2nd floor window yesterday was looking at me with a loser-ish Cheshire cat grin and, sitting at the bus stop, I was feeling very American and thinking it was odd that coming here—specifically Germany, & even Heidelberg, has made me more proud of my heritage than I’ve been in at least a few years. Yes, I do come from America, whatever that means, and I’m goddam proud of it, motherfuckers. Eyefuck me again and see what happens. Ah—I don’t really know what to feel but I hate these little fucking grins I get from these complacent shits here & there like this guy on the train whose seat is facing mine. No use venting at length. [9:51 am] (Train moving.)
As Em went back to get change, the bus we wanted, #33 passed us by (cute girl is painting her nails; in her bag is a book: Praxisbuch, NLP. Ah, she has just grabbed it & opened it.) So it was going to be about 20 minutes until the next one came. We sat on the bench at the bus stop. On our right was no view down the road really, because of an advertisement for the world cup (WM). In other words, we couldn’t see Mitzy as she made her way down the road from the hostel to the bus stop. So it was all of a sudden that she was upon us. She acted very casual, which I suppose is fine but if I learned one thing from this it’s that: if you are going to desert, it’s OK; there’s no reason why Mitzy has to be hitched to us just because we struck up a convo w/her; but if you’re going to desert, you should inform, & certainly this has not always been my custom. Hereby, it will be: John, if you are going to desert (dessert?), first you must inform.
Maybe Mitzy’s just Mrs. Cool-toes, but in her shoes
(I’m such a shoe-a-holic. (That was on the bus this morning. She planned to get some Birkenstocks here because they were only 40€.) I bought like three pairs in Spain—now that’s the place for shoes if you wanna buy shoes—and I had to send them back early w/ my aunt cause I wasn’t gonna have any room for them.)
Mitzy asked us something about the castle, like if we got to see it. But I don’t know—what kind of question is that cause of course we got to see it, she was there w/ us. Then we were talking about what we did after the castle. This was Em’s big part, “We went to a pub & got something to eat & drink. Then we walked [into a tunnel, third tunnel today. Evil eye, from snooty guy, up yours too] around some more. Then we went to a café where we got some more to eat & drink.” How about you I said to Mitzy. She looked at cuckoo clocks because, she said, her father was “crazy about them.” But she didn’t buy any even though she saw some she liked. “I’m gonna wait until I get to the Black Forest area.” Freiburg. That’s where she was going today, and depending on how much she got done there, she was maybe going to come to Munich, like us. So Mitzy may be out there somwhere again. [10:17 am]
No bad dreams last night. Frank Sinatra singing a number about how he calls breasts Jamies because of this girl he was singing to, Jamie Bozelle. “I get the Jamie from Jamie Bo-zelle….” And thread two was about how in New York you can get an easy ground-level view of events at (I guess) Madison Square Garden just by walking up to the window & looking in but nobody ever did it. Some guy was talking telling me about it.)
(I should stop wiping my pen on permanent objects cause I looked at the fabric of the seat between my legs & it’s definitely marked up. I been wiping my pen everywhere. And lookin’ at asses. I admit it! Auf der geigens it aussteigen.)
Em & I first checked out the board. Our train would be @ 20 mins. late. We went lookin for something to eat. There were two choices, a small counter & a large counter. I went to large counter and was looking. A lady asked me if she could help me & I hadn’t really decided on anything. Some of the signs for items were obscured so I said “nein” & eventually left that place. (Moving in opposite direction now; well, my seat is facing opposite way. I poke Em with my pen. “I don’t know.” I think we’re OK though.) Em had come over & said I’m gonna check out that place. Em had maybe come from there & thought, too, that it looked better. So we went there & ordered two little pizzas & a still water. The woman there asked us if we wanted it here or to go & we didn’t know what the hell she said. The woman next to us in line translated. We thanked her. The woman helping us looked annoyed after that point—understandably so. We stood at a tall table & ate .
Still facing backwards. “We’re 30 minutes late.” “Pssh. Fine with me.” An old lady loses an argument with her grandson about where to sit. Em sneezes, & sneezes again. Plochingen. A thousand million ecstasies, time fulfills my fantasies, a look from Mephistopheles, and now my eyes slip back with ease.
[10:40 am]
Little kids, who cut the cheese? Wipe pen inside my sweatshirt. Our pizzas were damn good. Supreme & I’ll have gas later from the sausage or whatever it was, but mmm. Em went to get some juice. I drank all the water up & went to look for plastic recycling. I didn’t really find it but dumped it in a thing for packaging that maybe was for plastic. When I got back Emily yelled at me for leaving her bag unattended & I wanted to tell her to go fuck herself. She was ten feet away & she never asked me to watch it. “Really, John, I’m serious. Don’t leave my bag unattended again.”
“Alright,” I said, & went to the shop next door to look for more water & snacks. The woman at the register there now was the woman from the pizza purchase counter so I was a little fretful. I looked @ for a good bit & got two bananas, an Evian .5L, & some tortilla chips. It was 3.60€. Not bad. Danka. Em got something. Then we walked to our platform. No, first, I bought a newspaper, an International Herald Tribune for 2.10€. Read some on platform & ate banana #1. It has articles from NYT, W Post. Interesting. World news. Suicide attack in Israel. Bush visits D-Day memorial. Govt. pre-suspicion but un-acted-upon about attacks? Who the fuck knows. Train was a bit late. When I went to throw banana peel away, I said Em I’m going to go throw this away. Train came & we got on.
Em is clipping her nails again. A word or two about getting to sleep last night. I got back to room & knocked softly twice. No answer. Then I went & moderately kicked wall about where Em’s head would’ve been in her bed. She answered and was like, “Finally, geez!” This made me angry because I would’ve liked to have stayed out much longer. Now she asks me, “Did you talk to anyone last night, or were you just writing?” I just wrote. What were you writing about, you already wrote a lot earlier in the day. Just stuff, the events of the day, reflection. Exasperated sigh.
Woman comes and asks to see our pass. Em cannot find it. I get frustrated. Woman asks us what our end station is, “Your end station is?” but I think she’s still speaking in German so I don’t even hear that it makes sense to me. Munich? Munich, yes. Emily finally finds the pass. I don’t think she (the woman) ever came back to check it.
Anyway, last night. I get back into the room. Emily offered to turn on a light. The two roomies were in bed. I said No, no, no. Went to bathroom. Climbed the mini ladder up to my bunk. Had taken shoes off but lay in bed w/ jeans & thermal still on. No covers yet. (A field of goldenrod, piles of logs, horses.) Was thinking about my foto friend & almost asleep. But then doors banging, I guess the door to the hostel, right at the end of the hall, outside of our room & it was banging open & close about every 15 seconds & I could not sleep & felt like I was wasting my time, I could be reading or something. Took socks off. Took shirt off. Took jeans off. And fell asleep after being in bed for 45 minutes or so. Not bad.
[11:03 am]
Em goes to bathroom & gives me Eurail pass in case woman comes back asking for it. Frisch & fit. Tortilla chips. Tennis courts. A man in a field w/ a hoe. Sleepy, day-dreaming. [11:31 am] Rova to www.greeger-gruppe.de.
[2:15 pm]
WEST END
Hotel West End. In a nice set-up here at the hotel. Dreary, off-on rainy out. Going to get some stuff to eat. Turkish fast food. Then to cash some traveller’s checks: Können sie einen Reisechecke einlösen, bittë? Kurnern zee ighnen righzershehk ighnlurzen, biter.
“Friendly Canadiens” at Reiseburo Euraide booked us the room. City or train? City. Did you know that Thursday is a holiday here? Noooo… Day of Corpus Christi. Roman Catholic holiday so it might be hard to book a room. We asked for 3 nights, Tuesday-Wednesday-Thursday. And he made a call. Looked like a German Canadien JFK.
[2:24 pm] Leave.
[4:45 pm]
HOFBRAUHAUS
Roughly, the place to go for beer. Paying gagglefuck. Gave waiter 16€ for two 5.93€ beers. So I got pissy. Took a cheesy picture of Em with her big beer. There is some German tabloid here on the table and we’re looking at that a bit. Em is having a cig and the smell of it makes me want to never have a cigarette again. She—We are thinking about an Internet café a bit later. They were supposed to have Ump-a-lumpa music but there isn’t any. Pretzels came by and we passed. That was our chance, we missed it. Well, we’re fuckin broke after the beer debacle. (Besides, the pretzel I got yesterday at the street vendor wasn’t any good.)
The beers are a liter big and have psychoactive effects. Not really. The glasses say HB/München. Maybe the music will start up at fünf. The Hard Rock Café is across the street. I’ve got some gas building up.
Itches rashing fleas
Warlocks sipping teas
Swipe my hands across my knees
And grand ma-ma’s snowy peas
A tanker tipping in Cadiz
Skipper lifts a leg and pees
Free checking count there are no fees
Let’s tear apart those dungarees
Armies storming in humvees
Those funds I say are mine to seize
Plumage flocks from X. Valdez
A dancing prancing Socrates
[5:03 pm]
My mother’s whim I will appease
Seventy-seven hear ye hear ye’s
Peaches lost in this spring’s freeze
And now the eyes slip back with ease
Mimics making mockeries
William Makepeace Thackeray’s
FETAS CHEDDARS SWISSES BRIES
Mustached man decries, decrees
Hold on a second while I sneeze
(Hey, grab a tissue if you please)
A-high we sail the seven seas
In humpty-dumpty’s random sun-breeze
Zipping zapping sniffing bees
His I’s Mine’s & Me’s
A’s & B’s & C’s & D’s
Durings, metas, posts, and pres
Democracies
Meritocracies
Bureaucracies
Aristocracies
Hickory-dickory-dockerees
Let’s laugh at the retardees
Their bus is bound for chimpanzees
B-dee b-dee b-dee b-dees
It’s about time we looked at your praeces
[5:20 pm]
She’s he’s we’s a tease
We can profit from all this debris!
Afresh afresh those budding trees
Cross-checked, referenced indices
Into the future like crash-test dummies
Undo the knots in our tummies
Mind the current’s boundaries
Even now they fly daily sorties
That waffle cone I say’s Ranjee’s
Crispy crunchy spicy Lee’s
Another cig & I’ll begin to wheeze
Arby’s HB’s Sunday aft QB’s
Without a photo jealousies
To do it use some elbow grease
And you’re gonna be so jealous you don’t have one. [5:29 pm] Well, you have to write down that the music started at 5:30. Did you write down that I got a pair of shoes? I think so, why? Just wondering, just curious.
[9:08 pm]
WEST END
Deliver me, God. Deliver me. Em driving me a little fucking nuts. Feel like she just won’t let me be. John, what are you doing? I was f-ing asleep. Ate my tortilla chips. Well, I thought you were asleep for the night. Aren’t you going to write for like five hours in your journal? Are you just going to sit there like that? Ugh. What are you doing? I don’t like that light (by which I write).
Thursday, March 03, 2005
5.27.2002
THIELEN
[12:31 am]
last night here in Cologne, or Köln. Feeling a little better and haven’t had to use the restroom since this afternoon. But my head hurts and I didn’t eat as much at dinner as I could have.
After we left Thielen this everning we walked through the station, where Em got some Marlboro Lights & a lighter. She was going to get some West cigs, a brand that seems to be popular here, but they didn’t have any West Lights, so she got the Marbs.
Walking through the station is standard for our walk to the lively part of the town. It’s usually pretty active there and there are lots of shops and places to eat. Em stopped at an ATM because the only Euros she had were a 50€ and some coins but the ATM was only letting her withdraw an amount divisible by 50 and she withdrew 50 and got it all in a €50 note. She saw a girl w/ brown Pumas on and said she liked them.
We ate at Campi im Funkhaus. Outside the menu includes several pasta dishes but inside we got a different menu, with zero pasta choices, so I decided to order fish. There were also two pasta specials, a canneloni & a lasagne w/ meat; I should have ordered one of those but ordered my fish entrée instead. Yet, when I ordered the menu fish, goldstatte or something, he recommended some other fish, zielof or something, so I said what the hell and got that. He was an excellent waiter, maybe Italian Em thought, and with his English he helped us with our German—
I want to say real quick that between the station and Campi we stopped at an Inter Net Café, the one Emily went to last night. We [12:43 am] went up to the second floor to use computers ochs (8) and zien (10). I checked my Artsci account first and had a message from Brook. She said she’s taking care of my plants and the she misses me like the devil. This week she has an interview with a design firm, potentially for a part-time job next semester. I also checked out fantasy and mailed Ray. I mailed Brook of course. And I checked the BBC, as well as my two hotmail accounts. Need to e-mail Nick.
So back at the restaurant we order some chardonnay and some still water. I get a salad, the dressing on which I didn’t care for but Em liked—it was just “a very basic oil.” It tasted nutty & buttery to me and it wasn’t quite what my stomach was after. Em helped me out on it. We got bread & butter. The chardonnay was very passable, a solid 6.5. To order our entrees we said, “Ich hette gairn,” and this worked. But when I was presented w/ the fish order alternative I said “wievel” and this didn’t work. Em explained that what I said was “How much,” not referring specifically to the price, but to size, portion, etc.
The fish came out, I think it was a trout, as a big honking complete unscaled fish w/ head & tail. It was split in the belly and this was where I went in. The fish was good but I didn’t eat but 60% of it. Also I got eggplant which Em said was the best eggplant she’d ever had but which I wasn’t crazy about. It was oily and heavy and too much for me. We got another flascher of wasser. When we were done the waiter asked me, “You did not like it?” And I said Yes but, oh I said, “Es var gut but ich bin voll,” which was, “I liked it but I’m full.” Well, not exactly does it mean that and the waiter helped me out with the expression: I would say, “Ich bin tsat,” “Ich been zat.” He pronounced his “Ich” not like “Ik” but like “Isch,” or “Eisch.” He was very nice. Em ordered zvie cappuccino.
[12:57 am]
Over the coffee I started talking about U.S. policy & the video I had seen at the Art Museum Ludwig….
…Ludwig. Great museum. Lots of work, many kinds. Started out on pop art but went to top floor and there were some TV’s w/ VCR’s & headphones up there, in an orange room w/ pillows to sit on. I picked up the one about CIA smuggling drugs & uzis into South Central LA. This was a story I had heard before, and there’s an article about it in The San Jose Mercury News from ’96 or so by some guy who got blacklisted after he wrote it. This could have been him talking for all I know, there wasn’t any tag saying what the video was. Anyway, he was talking about the CIA & drug smuggling, the Iran Contras, Oliver North, & it was really fucking interesting but then Emily comes over & she’s like let me listen and I’m like I’m in the middle of something leave me the fuck alone. So she got mad & left & it really fucking pissed me off because here was something of utmost interest to me and I asn’t going to get to listen because who the fuck knows where Em went & fuck fuck fuck. I just want to be able to see what I want to see & not have to g-d follow her schedule. It was also about smuggling heroin back from Vietnam in the gutted body cavities of dead soldiers w/ red toe tags and CIA and military and gassing in Iraq and Bush & it’s the same people from Vietnam, just older, and some bank account called “belly button.” It was g-d interesting & I’d-a sat there & watched the whole fuckin thing if I could’ve. So, fuck…. [1:07 am]
So I was talkin about all this shit, masonry, the masonry symbol I saw on the cover of a catalogue of Ludwig advertising the new show coming up which “promises” to be “political.” Have brochure and must check out on the web. {FYI: It was Matthew Barney's "Cremaster Cycle." -ed.} Thought maybe I saw masonry symbol—compass—on floor of the Dom cathedral, the big ass main draw church in Köln.
Em thinks I’m a bit schizo talking about conspiracy & Carlyle & she started to hurt my feelings a bit saying I’m ‘strange’ and ‘weird.’ I don’t want to have to be labelled weird just because I’m intrasted in this stuff.
(In the Internet café the keyboards were different w/ positions of “y” and “z” switched and many of the shift functions moved around.)
I got two Post-It’s today and Em found one of them, stopping to check it out & stooping to pick it up. This made me feel really good & not so strange.
I guy got into trouble by a red-and-black-cloaked priest for eating popcorn in the Dom. He looked chastised: sheepish. [1:14 am]
My head & neck hurt. When Em went to the bathroom at dinner after cappuccino I settled the bill, something that Emily didn’t believe when I told her—I had to show her the receipt. She said she was proud of me. And the whole exchange went rather well. I got his attention and said, “Die rechnün, bittê.” He said, “Die rechnün,” and came back w/the bill. It was € 44.50 and I gave him a € 50, getting two back which is a tip of € 3.50—could have done more, should have gotten 1.50 € back maybe, but it was OK. He asked me if we were from America & I said, “Ja.” He wondered if we lived here now, or if we were working & I said no, just travelling. Said we were trying to use language some and he acknowledged it & said it was difficult. But I was happy. Em came out & we left.
Walked to the “progressive” jazz bar but it was quiet so we went to “traditional” jazz bar and lingered outside for a bit until some younger-looking people came out & we heard music.
(The shoppes were closed today on account of its being Sunday. Why I said? Emily said, “it’s still the Christian infuence tradition," and I said yeah but I thought that was over. She said, you know the chicken place, Chick-Fil-A in food courts, & I said yeah. They’re closed on Sundays she said because their owner is some kind of fundamentalist.)
We went in & it was a small place w/ peanut shells & Sion Kölsh coasters on the floor. Jazz band was playing on a small little landing: sax/clarinet, trombone, piano, drums, & cowbell. Sax/clarinet guy was proficient with both. Em ordered us two beers, 3.60€ each, rounded pay eight. Group in corner playing some game. Couple reserved. Two African women. Two Middle-Eastern men. Me & Em Americans. One lonely looking guy in right corner. Three 20-ish girls working bar. One woman in red dancing; at her table were two guys who wouldn’t dance. Three well-to-do middle-aged guys getting along fine at bar. A crazy man we later saw partaking in some public urination (second such incident of the night) came in looking for food or money I guess. One of the m-a wtd guys offered him a white translucent plastic bag with what could have been a pie or just a round tinfoil leftovers container in it. At first the crazy man didn’t take the food but then he went out, came back in, took it, & left again.
(Today a Middle Eastern woman dressed rather nicely—leather brand-name purse, black leather jacket came by as Em & I sat & ate our ciabattas for lunch; she was holding her daughter’s hand, pointing to her, then holding her hand out, palm up, asking us for money. Em gave her some coins. “Nein,” I said. Are you kidding me? Woman looks like she just came out of a hotel. She did not look hard up. Not near as hard up as man who sat in front of nearby unopen-on-Sunday store playing his organ, beginning w/ a Dracula number making me & Em laugh. Man was still there when Em & I went out for dinner eight hours later, playing a happier tune this time around. The woman, whom Em said was a gypsy—“that’s what they do”—she said—“you gotta be careful because what they do is work in groups, like I wasn’t watching my purse, one of them will come up to you & distract you & another will take your bag. Good advice, I said; I wasn’t watching my bag either. Lunch was good, ciabatta mit putenfleisch, 3.00€. Evian for me—get some less expensive water next time, says EM—and Coke for Em. Drink some of this she says, you need sugar for energy. Sugar is not energy, I say. Yes it is, she says, carbohydrates. Sugar is not carbohydrates, I get carbohydrates from bread. Yes but not that many. Em took care of the bill at lunch & that waiter spoke English, too. )
We went into that jazz bar about 11:20, “Let’s just go in,” says Em—positive source of motivation for us. And es var gut. But band ended about 11:45 pm and we finished our beers, me not completely cause I’m still achy.
(God, I really hope I feel better. There was a room in the Dom open “For Prayer Only,” and neither Emily nor I went inside. Guess I could have but all I could think about was God, make me feel better, which I deemed not worthy of private room prayer. Tours (guided) of the Dom were cancelled today. Beautiful stained glass windows in there. Or I thought, “God, give me strength to make sense of all this masonry bullshit even if it kills me, in your name this house was built in theirs. Amen.” I said that in the Cathedral, and maybe it will get heard.)
[1:46 am]
Em had to change so I came out and I’m sitting in a little chair next to the bathroom on the landing of our floor. The bathroom stunk like pee when I first sat down but now I don’t smell anything. Em is most likely asleep by now. It’s very quiet. Some men on lower floor were maybe having beer & playing cards during most of this but I think they’ve too gotten ready to sleep.
(I don’t want to have any more dreams like I’ve been having. I might feel better if I throw up which I was prepared to do and almost did this afternoon in the bathroom. Told Em about my dreams at dinner and she had fun attempting to analyze them. The one about driving in a car w/ Jack. Who’s Jack? An old roommate. When did you room with a guy named Jack? I don’t know, one apt. ago. I thought Jack was your alter-ego. Emily, no. Was he driving? Yes. What three adjectives would you use to describe him. I don’t know. Well, what can you say about him? He didn’t clean up very much. So, messy? No, I wouldn’t say that. Irresponsible? No, not irresponsible; he’s got a good job now in Boston with some technology thing, he was an engineering student. Inconsiderate? No, I wouldn’t say that. Well, ok, so what was the dream? Jack & I were driving and some guy jumped in the back of the car. What kind of guy? He was large, Samoan, Hawaiian.
(Big time déjà vu. )
Like the guy in Pulp Fiction? No, you never see that guy. Yeah, you do, a little bit. Emily, you don’t, Tony Rockahara. Anyway. So I grabbed his cigar and stuck it in his eye, like in Waking Life.—Jah-nuh-thin, you never shoulda seen that movie…
It’s late and I’m tired. [1:56 am] Going to bed. Alarm set for 8. Packing in the morning. To Heidelberg where finally I can visit a library/university.
(I think I’m deyhdrated & water is hard to come by here. I used the last bit of club-soda-tasting sparkling water to swallow my vitamin pill which had been in my 5th pocket all day with small denomination euro coins and it tasted like tin & lint—flint.)
Em appears to have chewed on the cap of this pen cause I know I didn’t do it.
[2:00 am]
[10:35 am]
IC to HEIDELBERG
Back on the train, baybe. This one moving fast & bouncing. Blue skies out. Some clouds. I ordered coffee. Ein kaffee, bittë. Attractive woman came around & checked our tickets. Man w/o shirt near VW bus writing something for railroad company. Orange vest nearby; ancillary track. Fields of farming. Moving slower now. Gardens. Greenhouse. Sprinklers. Every possible façade near a railroad has been tagged. Em eating paprika pringles. Me with WSJ Europe. Rheingas. [11:00 am]
A river, bluffs. Houses on the bluffs. Read some of the WSJE. Article on Carlyle offering to London-based equity group, Coutts. Schauff. Ein netter zug. Some forests on hills but not the Black Forest. The kinds of trees I’d expect from the Black Forest, though—pointed dark green pines. Covered hills that look like one big spansive tree. Maybe the Black Forest. A church & steeple. Black slate mountain sides. People speaking German up front & behind me. The river again, on the left of the train. Open, soft green fur-like fields on the left. Slowing…. Fields on slanted hillsides. Pines whose branches droop with needles like a red-garmented priest’s sleeves droop when he opens wide his arms in prayer. People out on paths walking with dogs.
Frank. RWE. A bison, bisotherm. Elektro-union. Adamdunkel. Piles of sand. Real. Bahr. [11:16 am] [11:20 am] Abfahrt, Mainz-Mannheim, Ausage Beachten, Heidelberg. Koblenz Hbf, Friseur, seeing some satellite dishes, across a river. Ausgang.
A guy opens a vending machine & gives someone a candy bar; must have been stuck; consumer looks genuinely happy. There was a castle but now it’s obscured.
(The Dom survived WWII bombing virtually unharmed. Köln got it, though.)
Em after we both napped yesterday: “We can’t be taking long naps, like this anymore.” I was feeling very tired. Been here at Koblenz Hbf for about 5 mins. Fünf. Leaving now. [11:26 am] Chairs like half-open wicker baskets but blue metal. Attractive attendant comes by at every stop. Look ahead, at the clearing, I think I see someone wanting to get on there!!
More green-covered rock mountains. A Heineken sign. Over a river. A pleasure boat. Rocks lining the shore. Over it. Street-level now. Me in a single seat. Em across aisle in a double seat. Opening some hideous wrapper & throwing it away. Power bar, I think. A castle yellow halfway-up green mountainside. Never seen anything like that before. Beta Union. Avis. Zschimmer & Schwarz. Stück gut. Hideous f-in wrapper. Opel. Nicolai. Hideous wrapper. Look over at Em & laugh good-natured laugh. Are you putting down that I’m eating a lot? That’s not what I’m putting down. Then what are you putting down? All observations. Now river is on my right. A barge.
Dinkholder. (Sign on dock.) Hills slanting up at ~55º angle, and still, fields on them rows of cultivation. Definitely satellite dishes. Not lots of fields on tree-cleared hillsides. Strips of growing green on brown. Em opens a sparkling water. That’s all that we could find at the drugstore at Köln Hbf.
(What is haup? Capital, central, main, station.)
Joline barge. [11:42 am] No time zone change. Our big bags in sturdy racks above. Emily is clipping her nails again. Houses in big cluster on river. A levee. Hirzenach. A Shell station. People leaning out their windows. I think it’s the Rhein we’ve been on. A peninsula jutting way out that people are walking on. Into a dark tunnel. Out of it. Engulfed by tall skinny trees. Skies are not blue anymore but filled with clouds, some dark clouds. Zig-zagging hill paths step through hill-side fields. A helicopter spraying something on crops. Into tunnel again. Out. A small yellow-bodied boat. Bingen D.S.A. A church. A castle atop a hill. Most of the bricks old & grey. Some new & terra cotta brick red. Cute girl in tanktop enters door of house below. White tanktop. Black athletic pants w/ blue stripe. Water levels maybe higher than normal cause I see trunklees tree archipelagos. A long boat with French flag. I smell cigarette ashtray butts old & stale nasty. Ehrenfels. A helicopter higher up. Hotel Rheingold. Barge w/ Mazdas on it. Ruined castle. [11:58 am]
Another castle built up onto the hill—that’s what houses looked like back then. With flag flying. Heidelberg is said to have big castle. A gull. Orange buoys in river lowspots warning. Pair of kayakers, many more kayakers now. More. In boats blue, green, yellow. A gull. A crow. A castle.
Em: “John, wine.” Rows of grapes, a vineyard at a slant on a hillside. German wine…. 531. Along riverside, some kind of marker. [12:03 pm] Rows & rows of grapes up & to the left, which I can’t really see. Someone leaning out of blue minivan on road below & to my left, leaning out of backseat window to photograph them. Rüdesheim. Rheingauer. Bingen-Rüdesheimer. Willkommen, welcome. Hierophany cover: airplane toting headline banner, or castle flag saying it, “Hierophany.” Rheinstrasse. All of these beautiful quaint stucco houses with their white round blaring satellite dishes. Vineyards aglore. Weingut.
A white patch-winged magpie. Abfall ist under fall. Plenty of tagging still. Willi gleck. Armbruster. Volksbank. A guy went up & got a sandwich & a coke. Weisbaden-Schierstein. Ferchau. Getting a little sluggish. Train is slowing. Woman leaning out of window having a cig. Auto-geng. Wiesbaden ost. Close my eyes….
[12:28 pm]
[12:59 pm]
Em says we’re running late a little bit. Hombach. Tall signs for McD’s & BK. Ate some of the paprika pringles. Giving them to me Em says Once you pop you can’t stop. I stopped after too long. Drinking the mineral water & getting used to it. Haven’t seen any castles lately. R. Keskin. Abbott. Manheim Hbf. Em: It should be just about 10 minutes.
[7:13 pm]
CAFÉ JOURNAL
In Heidelberg. Did the Schloß this afternoon. Rented two beds in the supposedly only youth hostel a ways out of what Em and I regard as the older, neater part of town. So the long & short of it is that we had planned on maybe two nights here but now we’re going to do just the one and move on to Munich one day early. The hostel was further out than we might have thought—a 30-minute walk from the station, maybe a 45-minute walk from where we are now, on Haupstraße, not far at all from die Universität Heidelberg.
(We stopped in there briefly: one excursion into the copy center when I was looking for a change machine—we need coins for the bus back, & for our lockers at the hostel: it’s a buck each time to lock your stuff in them & get the key so that you can take it back out—; and the other we went into what looked like the library building. I saw computers; Emily stayed back and I asked her if she was going to get on a computer—I was trying to load news.bbc.co.uk (first I typed nnews.bbc.co.uk) but it wasn’t loading and Em said, “I’m just waiting for you to get kicked out.” No change machine around; the search for the wasserrette goes on.)
So the hostel is holding onto my passport at their desk. On the bus there from the train station we met Mitzy (it wasn’t until we met her again on the bus to the Schloss Heidelberg that Em learned her name). 1.80€ to do a one-way bus ride. Much cheaper if you get a bulk bargain-rate card. [7:41 pm] We went to the reiseburo after we got off the train and asked how much a double room would cost. The woman working there who was not friendly at all said it would be 70€, which seemed a little high considering that it was 42€/night for the both of us in Cologne. So: what-evah. We got on bus 33 to the youth hostel.
Didn’t know how much bus cost till we got on & had to endure the driver’s wrath. Gave him two 2€ coins and wasn’t getting change back right away so I turned & started walking back. The bus began to move & my balance was being tested and I heard him say, “Hallo?” So I turned & went back and grabbed the .40€ he was pointing to in the return slot of the little Euro change pay machine he was working.
So we drove over the Neckar River and past the Kinder-Clinic, which I thought maybe could have been the youth hostel but thankfully didn’t express such a thought. Past the zoo & got let off. Followed some people with backpacks a little ways in the wrong direction but then Mitzy—“Are you all goin’ to the youth hostel?” “Yeah.” “Ok, do you know what stop to get off at?” Em knew—saw a sign & said, “I think it’s back that way.” And it was. She had a southern, maybe Texan accent…
(Where was Mitzy from? Tennessee. Tennessee.)
…and she asked us where we had come from. Said Köln. From there Amsterdam. How long are you travelling for? Just two weeks. How about you? I’ve been in England for this past semester and something or other going to New York for a month after this and then Sweden for 10 days. Said she had taken a boat up the Rhein from Kolberg; a six hour ride but very beautiful. So we walked up to the hostel & saw plenty of youth. Were able to converse in English with the people working there and paid 39 for the both of us for a night. That included sheets and breakfast the next morning. Also included youth hostel membership cards (3€/per). (Don’t forget about your passport. Oh yeah, I’m gonna forget it.)
Room 59. Interesting key entry where you hold card in front of sensor light on doorknob & it lets you in. Six bunks. We were the first two people in there and who knows if all six beds will be full when we get back. We left there via bus (ran for it toward the stop a bit) at about 2:00 p.m. I put my sheets on the bed before we left, as did Em. Sheets we got were a fitted sheet, a pillowcase, & what I thought was a regular blanket. On each bunk was what I thought was one mattress pad & one pillow. We took the bunks in the corner because these might have been the quietest. I put my fitted sheet over the “mattress pad” and then it took two tries to get my pillowcase right. Pillowcase, opening.
Then took “regular sheet” and spread it out on top of fitted sheet but saw that sheet, like pillowcase, had a slit in it and that’s when I said, “shit,” and Emily said, “What?” I did this wrong. Well tell me how to do it so I don’t do it wrong, too. This thing is a comforter; this goes inside of that. Like a b—duvet.
(And I thought about that scene in Fight Club where Brad Pitt is like, what’s a duvet? I don’t know, it’s like a comforter. It’s a blanket. That’s all it is. It’s just a blanket.)
I went to the bathroom. Em had successfully put her pack away in the wardrobe. I hung up my blue hoody & put my one € in a couple of times before Em helped me out w/ it: have to put it in, close the door, & then turn in order to get it out. It had begun to rain & I wished I wouldn’t have locked my hoody in there. [8:20 p.m.] I hadn’t intended to go out minus it. We went out to counter and asked a guy worker how we should use the bus to get to the castle. What’s the stop we want to get off at?
(Em writing postcards. Did you tell Mom & Dad about the marijuana we smoked? No.!.are you kidding me?)
Caught the bus. On way to bus someone
(Café Journal is the perfect place to write in your journal. Are you gonna write down what I just said?… Maybe. Alright, I won’t put any pressure on you. I think she went on break.)
from second floor, a younger type, maybe 16, said, “Hallo!” I looked back & waved, “Hallo!” Then heard him say something like, “I come from America.” Don’t know how I feel about that. Thought on bus about how not to take something like that personally. I was sitting in a one-shot seat and Emily sat over by Mitzy. They started chatting it up and I started regretting having sat where I was sitting. There were others standing. Should I give up my seat. The bus was seriously crowded—not seriously, really. Some youths around, chatting happily. The people around me appeared to be rather garrulous & I thought about home & wondered if I was usually talkative like that w/ my friends & concluded that that probably wasn’t the case. Been too stoned a lot of the time. A very attractive dark-haired girl sat opposite Em…
[9:44 pm]
HOSTEL
…and offered her seat to an elderly man when he got onto the bus. In the youth hostel now and it’s gotten rather boisterous in here as a group of teenagers passes through but they’re gone now. We got back to our room and met our two roommates for the night. Said “hallo” back & forth but then it was semi-awkward silence for about ten minutes while Emily & I got settled back in. Finally I decided I was going to take a walk around, find a place to write, maybe see about Internet, and as I sat & put on my shoes I said, “Sprechen zie Deutch.” And they said yah. And I said, “Sprechen zie English?” And they said “a little” and laughed real politely. They are from Stüttgart my sister found out; she is able to converse with them some but I didn’t follow much of their conversation at all. It was a short-lived convo. We said we were from America. They asked—actually, they are two girls, one was on top bunk, one on lower, both reading, very nice, quiet so far, and maybe 19 or 20—mature.—what state we were from and Em said near St. Louis, which I now realize didn’t really answer any question about state. Then Em said she lived near Washington, D.C. [9:56 pm]
That was about it. I helped Em with her duvet and we both exited the room to explore the hostel building. We said “tschus” as we left. They said the same. Em & I came down our hall, out into the open area, following the sign for Internet room only to come upon a pay Internet machine with “DEFEKT” on it. The kaffee machine is also defekt.
I am sitting at a table doing this. And Em has gone back to the room. Maybe she is conversing with the roomies. Phil Collins, no—Sting CD has been playing. Now a jazzed-up solo version of “Roxanne”: Rahhx-anne rah-cks-anne. You don’t have to put out the re-uhd light. Rah-x-anne. Etc Etc Etc. It’s not bad actually. There are three convos going on. One at table on my left is German. Color me clueless on what’s being said there. Table at 12 o’clock is I think two English-speaking girls talking to a guy who maybe is not native English-speaking but probably a German speaker fluent in English. The girl doing the talking is maybe from Chicago, or Ohio. She is talking about how she & a friend flew into Amsterdam but had some sort of fall-out, and have since split up. [10:01 pm] So it does happen I guess. I could see myself in the depths of a depression, doing what her friend has done: come to Europe, to Amsterdam, and clammed up, holed up in a budget hotel somewhere for some reason petrified and unmotivated to do anything and wishing you were back at home; wondering what the hell you were doing in Amsterdam & what the possibilities of catching an early flight back might be. What a relationship gagglefuck that would be—and thank God I’m not at that depth, through the embarassment at Sion Brewhaus, a.k.a. the “3 entrees, it’s spargelgeist, eat too much & feel like barfing meal” coupled with probably some bad tap water and thereby some sort of viral infection, culminating in some psych-o-somatic funk had me messed up for about 20 hours there.
It should be said that I’ve a swollen, tender, reddish lymph node an inch or so below the hairline of my left armpit. I noticed it last night & it’s a bit out of the ordinary for something like that to appear on my body. It seems unlikely that it’s unrelated to yesterday’s sickness. If lymph nodes are an aspect of the immune system then I figure I can take this as a sign that I really did have some kind of bug, whether viral or bacterial; whether induced, or welcomed, by a weakened immune system made weak by a) physical stress from travel, i.e. Jet Lag; b) psychological stress from travel, i.e. self-consciousness due to language issues; c) miscellaneous body shocks including a reduced intake of marijuana and/or alcohol, a drop in sexual activity, a.k.a. orgasm; d) change in diet; or, e) my lone gunmen outsider fun theory—water withdrawal.
I am usually a fuckin fish when it comes to water intake & on this trip, weened from my nalgene & now afraid to drink from the tap I’m left to have the occasional pittance of sparkling water, which I’m actually growing to have a taste for. See, my body has gotten used to getting a certain amount of H20 in a certain amt. of time. For a good 6 months of being on a heavy water diet—and suddenly that drops. This is like the corporation factoring into its budget for the upcoming FY not only the same amount of gross cash influx it got FY-1 but maybe even more; and when H20 recession hits—BAM—everybody’s fucked, left sifting through desert sands, for the spare drop of water squeezed from a shard of camel’s skin. Upstream without any water.
(Sting has lost his faith in the politicians.) [10:20 pm]
So it was a little hard to recount the day’s events with Emily sitting right there—no offense. But can anybody say Schrödinger—no, what I mean: Can anybody say Heisenberg? To observe is to effect. To attempt to measure it to subjectify the observation. This has got to be me and me because if the artist is too worried about the critics he might as well get a how to make a standard work of art kit and leave his self & his experiences at home in bed to enjoy themselves while he’s away wasting his worth.
It was a steep walk uphill to Schloß Heidelberg. Mitzy was with us. Em had a bit of sputtering trouble but she made it OK. About 10-12 min. walk uphill. Cobble road. Hazardous walk because cobble was slick.
(Gas bloating—have to find bathroom, not in-room bathroom.)
Gave Em last of my water. Made it up to level ground & got cameras out. Castle was pretty high up & even at this point the view was impressive. Orange tops of houses. Clouds tangled in hills. A dam. The city stretching out in the distance looking bigger than I thought it would. Heidleberg is supposed to be 225,000 whereas Köln was like 950,000. Only 1€ for students. “Zvie students, bittë.” Went up to the terrace, which overlooks H-berg at a good view. Em & I had Mitzy take a picture of us here. Then Tim Freytag from a local university, probably Universitat, came and asked us if we would fill out a survey. I said sure. As Em & I discussed later, this was probably the catalyst leading to Mitzy’s desertion of us. I had a pen. My thinking was: it’s pretty shitty to hit somebody up for a survey two minutes after they’ve paid admission to the castle; but anyone who’s ever had to fill a survey quota knows that numbers are numbers & desperation is desperation.
One survey wasn’t so bad—it was kind of a public service. I didn’t even read what was on it. 3 pages. A little long. Em was saying how she hadn’t even been in town long enough to answer most of it. Mitzy said why not just make it up. I said yeah. That was the last I heard or saw of Mitzy, though she is staying in this hostel & we could see her again tomorrow for all we know. I walked to a corner of the terrace w/ a good view & was just standing there for a bit & Em was like, “Come on, John.” So I went. And I was like, “Where’s Mitzy?” It didn’t matter a bunch to me. Em said she thought she had gone off, deserted us. Perhaps. I looked around on the terrace real good to make sure she wasn’t still around & that if we left we wouldn’t be deserting here. Didn’t see her so walked on.
From there it was just a bunch of walking around, taking pictures of a few things. The highlight, or most memorable moment of the day came when I had just taken a photo of a ruined cylindrical column w/i the castle. Em was phuckin around with her camera. It had rewound early, after 15 exps., and she thought maybe it was messed up but then she decided that, yeah, it was probably just a 15 exp. roll. She was like, “John, my film’s messed up.” And I was like, “Well, what do I look like? Some kind of camera expert?” She put in a new roll & all was good. [10:43 pm]
About this time someone taps me on the shoulder, or maybe just attracts my attention by saying, “Excuse Me.” It was a Japanese woman roughly my age wearing, oh, a beige sweater let’s say, a skirt going a bit below the knees; darker than white skin; hair dark but not black going two inches below the shoulder; a pretty face; loafer-type shoes that didn’t have laces—a sort of slip-on. A collared shirt under her sweater, and somewhere: red. Maybe her collared shirt was white, her skirt black or red—damn. She will know what I was wearing. She said excuse me & her friend was nearby. Someone had a camera, not just me, maybe her & her friend. Maybe she had a camera around her neck & mine (Brook’s) like a lump of coal in my pocket. She does some pointing and I don’t know if she said, “Could you…?” Could I…what? Surely I thought she meant could I take a picture of her and her friend somewhere w/ scenic background behind them. Sure, I could do that, just give me the camera. But I wasn’t being handed any camera and I realized that her friend had the camera and my “friend” was saying something like “me & you?”
I was saying sure to whatever it was that was being asked and suddenly I’m standing next to this girl getting ready to have my photo taken with her. I didn’t put my arm around her waist and of course I’ll always wonder if I could have or should have. I had a good smile to start off w/, maybe a sincere stunned flattered smile (but, see, should I be flattered, or…I don’t know, I don’t really quite understand the whole thing) but the picture didn’t come off right away & by the time it was snapped the smile was supported only w/ my mouth & cheek muscles & not by my eyes—a fake smile though I wouldn’t have been faking awe at the moment. It was a moment, a fine moment and she’ll have the photo and I never will.
(It occurs to me now but I could have given her my e-mail or postal address & gotten the photo that way—you fucking idiot! It would’ve been a beaut.—spontaneous, unpredictable,…)
She said, “Thank you,” and I said sure or, “You’re welcome,” maybe said Bye, I don’t even know. Turned back to Em and her film, feeling like someone who has won the lottery: unsure of what to do with all the money. I made some embarassed awkward babble talk w/ Em and she was like, “Ha ha! You got grabbed.” Grabbed? I didn’t ask her what she meant by this; if my moment was more traditional or customary that I might like to imagine then I didn’t want to know. [10:54 pm]
I kept my eye out for my photo friend & it was a long while before I saw her again. I was coming out of some part of the castle and she was w/ her friend, the photographer, coming out of the gift shop. We had eye contact and it was one of those boom—ooh, stomach drops—immediately look away kinds of eye contacts, another genuine moment beautiful. Maybe she had some kind of plaid somewhere—the front of her sweater perhaps. We both looked away. Her friend looked my way & registered me. I don’t think Em knew what had transpired. Her friend looked at me not so good and I made eye contact w/ my friend again and felt that regret, that what the hell should I have done there besides what I’ve done regret and that was it, we were headed in separate directions. Em & I made our way out of the castle, down to the Haupstraße to eat.
I have to knock (it’s a hard knock life rap song overhead) to get back into the room & Em left a while ago, so…gotta call it here.
[11:04 pm]
{Note: At this point in journal, a red-and-white banana sticker with yellow lettering, “Colombia,” and black lettering, “turbana®” is affixed.}
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
5.26.2002
[8:33 am]
Now about that dream. I told Ray while I was in it: “I can’t tell if I’m dreaming or not.” And I was thinking about this apartment right above Breve but there were complications. Flood in Forest Park, pumping their lungs but damaging, driving with Mom, Brook in FP thread, out of season going uphill, I feel bad, save two babies. Morning after series of crazy dreams. More threads:
[8:36 am]
[7:55 pm]
Strange afternoon nap dream. Me & Jack driving; big frat guy jumps in. I take cigar from his mouth & put it in his eye. Then they all come over to my house & I try to kill them but can’t; chopping stabbing slicing. Call Ray over. Tell Mom it’s matter of life and death; her & dad back from walk. I determine that they’re all dead, that’s why I couldn’t kill them.
In another thread there is a sinkhole in the house. I tell Nick, Adam Schwartz, & someone else—Ginny Busch—that I’m coming to play B-ball with them but I stop & talk to Mom & Dad about the sinkhole; Mom is preparing brunch. When I get out to B-ball, those three have all finished, saying they were going inside for brunch. It turned out, though, that brunch wasn’t ready until 20 mins. later; Adam was not happy with me.
Later I ran into Ginny working at a bank and she said something like, “At first I thought you were just really shallow but then I read your book and…I think you’re special,” or something like that. She was talking about my DayMinder and I was like: you read my book?!?
[8:03 pm]
MORGEN
Today.
Wake 6:30a; shower; then bathroom, sip some water, get back to bed, sleep till Em’s alarm goes off (7:30 a) and get up; but I’m feeling really shitty, my stomach in knots & thinking of retching; take first gruel-some shit.
Lay in bed, sit in bathroom, go down to eat 8:20a or so [8:05 am] and say guten tag instead of guten morgen. Ask for kah-fay & get some OJ but no food. Sit at table, sip, & start to write some but I’m feeling like absolute shit. Em comes down about now and tells me to eat something.
