Stressed out...trying to get things done one at a time...waiting for the stress to pass...

So, so crazy in my head at the moment. I know I've got a lot coming at me, and I can't do much about it...I can't do much to move everything along, either. I think I have all of my visa information in and ready to be processed.

The moving company finally got back to me yesterday with a monster of a quote, which mean I won't be shipping all of my stuff like I originally hoped. I will instead be getting rid of everything I own, somehow. And that is infinitely stressful to me- you just don't even know. J & A are in town for the weekend, so I've already packed a bag for them to take back to the MN for me. I'm contemplating another 2-3 bags. I just need to get my act together and sort some of my stuff out and decide what will get binned, donated or brought along with me. Then, I need to find random things in Singapore on my arrival to refurnish and make my life comfortable. This is a whole new scenario of "...leaving NY, never easy..."

I wish I could associate my time in NY with another song, but that one is it.


I was listening to the 'ol iPod yesterday and I remembered how my friend M. used to be able to connect almost any song that came up on the radio with some experience in her life. I don't know if it had to do with her listening to the same radio station consistently (...thus, hearing the same songs over and over again), or if music was that powerful for her.

Here are some of my monumental songs of all time...that is, songs that automatically take me back somewhere...

Griffin House: Waste Another Day
This song sums up a couple of train trips I took between southern Germany to Frankfurt. I was 22, everything was new and an adventure waiting to happen. I sat at the window, looking out into a mountainous forest- completely picturesque and the epitome of southern German landscape. 'Waste another day, waste another day with me, my love...' That time in my life was about wasting a day, and looking back it wasn't a waste at all. As I move around all of my stuff, I keep flipping through photos of this period and I wish I could experience it over and over again.

Ok. I'll work on the list. One isn't exactly a list. But, it is the start of a list!

So, so proud of Slumdog Millionaire...awesome film...love Dev Patel.

Love me some Slumdog Millionaire. Dev Patel is the kind of guy you can't help but love no matter what. Match him up with his character in Slumdog and you don't have a chance. I'm a huge fan of the Skins series out of the UK and I didn't see Anwar from Skins at all when I saw Slumdog. And, the little kids in the movie are adorable.

I've been to India a few times, and I think Slumdog Millionaire and Outsourced are the two movies which can sum up my experiences there. See them both.

The Golden Globes overall were weird. No intro, no closing, no outstanding craziness to speak of. Sasha Baron Cohen was halarious with his Madonna joke. Shah Rukh Kahn was a great surprise, I'm hoping for more Indian movies to break into the US. I'll keep the picture of SRK up in my cubical for a while longer. :)

Trying to motivate.

Sundays are difficult. Explanation done.

In hot yoga withdrawal. At least it's not possible to go into House withdrawal.

It's been a few weeks since I last wrote, so I'll see what I can do in terms of catch up. Since the end of December, I have become a hot yoga and House (the tv show) addict. Hot yoga. I must have some sort of masochistic mindset when it comes to kicking my own ass. I have the same gratification in finishing an 8 mile run as I when finishing a hot yoga session. How is this possible? I have yet to figure all of this out. I completely recommend hot yoga to anyone. So, so awesome.

House, another phenomenon I can't figure out. I love that show. I love Hugh Laurie and even weirder, I love the character of Gregory House. Thanks to cable tv, I can watch House almost every day. Go figure. Yay!

Hot yoga is...hot.

So, A. introduced me to hot yoga, and I think her with all of my heart for doing so. We went to a session at CorePowerYoga on Grand Ave. and it's a fantastic studio. I had no idea that I liked hot yoga, I just feel like I get a better workout than regular yoga. Hot yoga is hard for me. Super hard. I don't have much balance as it is, and I have much less so when I'm covered in sweat. So, this guy comes in and sets up his mat in front of me and A. and he puts a glass (jam) jar of water next to him. Because he's green or afraid of plastic, I need to be ever-aware of this glass jar so I don't accidently fall over and break it. Great.

The next day, I dragged Nanners along to a session and she became obsessed with it as well. Wahoo...hot yoga friends in St. Paul.

Korean food...it's been longer than it should have been.

The New Year is a big deal for Koreans, so my mom took us out for lunch a few days before hand since she had to work New Years day. At the table, I decided right then and there to confirm my decision to move to Singapore. I guess I had been leaning towards it the day before, but my confirmation email was sent while I sat at the table. People ask me if my parents were concerned with the decision. And, it's funny because that's not a topic of stress or concern in my family. Getting a pet is more of a stressful situation for my family than anything to do with traveling or moving internationally. I could be away for a year or two, but a cat is a commitment of 15 or so years. See what I mean?

Merry Christmas! I'm done baking ;)

Merry Christmas/happy holidays/all that jazz. MN is a snowy crazy place, as expected. It was 20 degrees today and it's supposed to reach 30 tomorrow. Whoa, heatwave. I've spent a great deal of time just hanging out either with friends or House. House on TV, yes that House.

I hung out with A. (J was also present), M and S a few days ago. I was explaining how I would have to disown my unborn future kids if they told me they were republican creationists. The others laughed, but sort of agreed with me. A. replied 'Well, I believe in God and I also believe in dinosaurs.' Wouldn't that be an awesome t-shirt? I kind of want that on a t-shirt. Makes me want to create a top ten list of t-shirt ideas.

10. I believe in God and I believe in dinosaurs.
9. That's what she said.
8. Only true New Yorkers know that people living anywhere else must be kidding themselves.
7...
Ok, I'll finish or revise the list later.

Baking. Oh baking. I want full and fantastic kitchen more than anything. Professional grade stove/oven, stainless steel cookware and a full espresso machine/bean grinder/steamer. My parent's don't have much of an interest in all of that, but their kitchen is a few times bigger than anything you could find in a NY apartment, so I baked to my little heart's content yesterday. Pumpkin bars and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies were made. But, I'm certain to spend more time in front of the oven in the upcoming weeks. I need to get it all out of my system before I start gettting busy again.


I'm getting into crunch time. Decisions, decisions... Three days and I'll know what the future will hold for me in the next year.

Finished off the Adventskalender instead of dragging it to MN...feels a little sacrelig...but it was lecker!

Tuesday was perfectly 'holidayed' for my taste. I rushed around finishing things up and cleaned up my desk before I headed out for the holiday break. The annual team gift exchange brought a familiar X rated touch that is almost trademark of the group and I love it. I couldn't work with anyone else...ok, I could, it just wouldn't have the same amount of craziness and amusement. We followed it up with some bowling all while I hoped the snow would cease so I could get out of JFK.






Luckily, the precipitation did cease. I arrived in Minnesota. I experienced the softest landing of a plane that I can remember. As a true Minnesotan reminder of where I live, the plane pulled up to an alternate gate because the original gate was frozen shut.

Every time I leave New York, I miss it. It's an inevitable and reliable feeling that occurs within 48 hours of departing from the city. Here is the trigger this time. I was watching 'Keeping the Faith' this morning and Edward Norton says* "...the true New Yorkers' secret belief is that people living anywhere else had to be, in some sense, kidding themselves." Three years ago I didn't understand how a dirty, crazy, expensive, big city could be so captivating and attractive. I catch scenes in movies and know the places they shot it- places I walk through casually. Celebrity sightings are something to tiredly nod at or to believe it was meant to be, depending on the person - either way, it's an unalienable right in a common place kind of way. As I've said so many times before, NY and I have a love-hate relationship. I love to hate it. I hate to love it.

*It came from either from Woody Allen or John Updike (describing Henry Bech. I tried looking up the actual origin and can't seem to trace it...also, excuse my very loose restated interpretation of the quote...

Tis the Season...

So, before I ran into Jemaine (:::swoon:::) on Sunday, I had a funny Saturday. Since I'm infamous for making a long story longer, I'll expand on this one too.

Last year after sleeping over at M.'s (which sounds like a scandalous story, but really isn't...it was more annoying than anything and I'll talk about it another day) after a crazy night out we went down to Yucca for brunch. Yucca has since been my favourite brunch in all of NYC. Partially because of the spicy Bloody Mary's and mostly because of what I saw that morning. I was sipping on the spicy delicious beverage when I saw a Santa walk by. Crazy, but I suppose it is NY and a Santa is bound to walk by. Then a Christmas Tree walked by followed by another Santa. My friends and I stood up and tried to see over the random cars parked between us and Tompkins Sq. Park where hundreds of Santas stood. Yes my friends, SantaCon.

This year, SantaCon imposed itself on NYC last weekend. A few of us headed down to South St. with some reindeer antlers ready to see a few Santas. We got some stares on the subway because we busted out the antlers on the train to do our preparation. As we got out of the train and into the station, about 10 Santas emerged from other train cars... When we got above ground, it was like a movie: tacky red and white velour and fluff were coming at us from every angle. I felt so underdressed. I had a huge red and white deficit going on with my outfit, but I was just too amazed at all of the Santas to be too concerned.

We were in front of the Christmas tree that sits in the middle of all of the shops and watched some Santas singing and doing Capoeira...And as we walked past the tree we saw the hundreds of Santas that were hidden behind it...The vastness of Santas was mystifying. The sheer numbers are easy to see, but the infinite types were impressive.

Pimp Santa...
Scottish Santa...














And even one of 'Santa's Helpers'...

Stalked Jemaine Clement, then he followed us around.

Long haul flights are a love/hate situation for me. The only 'hate' is obviously the very long amount of time cooped up in an airplane that will never have enough space. The 'love' is having enough time to fall asleep for more than 15 minutes and to catch up on some shows. For me, a trip to Asia = catching up on Flight of the Conchords. A friend of mine sent around a video of the guys doing Business Time about a year ago and I've been a fan ever since.

I waited for M. yesterday in the lobby of MOMA and alternated between looking through old messages on my phone and scanning the room of museum goers. I look up and see this guy walk by with his girlfriend. OMG. It had to be Jemaine Clement from FotC! I follow him into the MOMA store and start looking at random gadgets at the kiosk next to him. I pick up a paper robot kit and look past it and directly at the guy in thick black rimmed glasses with a black knit hat instead. I couldn't quite tell if it was him or not. Actors tend to look a little different on TV than in real life... M. showed up so I pulled her into the store and we both picked up random accessories and looked past them at this guy. I looked up his height on Wikipedia and it said he should be 6'1", so I tried to estimate if he was tall enough. In the end, M. said "No, it's not him...the lips are different, just look at his face..." I agreed and we headed upstairs to wander our way though the museum.

We walk through the architecture room and over to the railing that overlooks the big lounge space. I take a few shots of the crowd and look to my right to see the other museum goers walk past us and there he is! 6'1", dark rimmed glasses, dark tossel-headed Jemaine. The real one! The guy in the store was just a guy who looked eerily like the real Jemaine that was standing in front of me. He walked past us and into the architecture exhibit. I forced M. to follow him with me. After about two minutes of looking at bogus models of buildings and thinking of the coolest way to talk to him, I finally convinced myself to walk over to him and say "Hi, sorry to bother you, but I really love your show, just wanted to let you know..." He awkwardly replied "Oh, thank you very much..." His New Zealand accent confirmed it was him. Then I had to follow right behind him to get to M. Awkward! M. and I head out of that exhibit and moved into the next room. Then we noticed Jemaine was on the same museum route we were on. We followed each other from floor to floor. It just became more and more awkward because I was the girl who walked up to him and said 'Hi!'...and he knew I knew he was Jemaine. So, we avoided and ducked past each other from room to room, floor to floor.

The only way I could have upped the ante in awkwardness would be to sit next to him on a plane while I caught up on episodes of Flight of the Conchords...

Week is almost over...phew. One week until Minnesota!

I have been driving myself crazy with the help of miscellaneous extraneous factors. Work was about 75% of the extraneousness and 25% is/was/will always be the regular life administration.

So, Work. I've been worrying and thinking about my job and life for the past few weeks and it all came to a head two days ago. Basically, I need to decide my next step. The easier choice for me is the crazier choice if any outsiders to my life saw the options. To be honest, it's the choice I'm leaning towards at the moment. It gives me a chance to further live out the life I describe/aspire/see myself living. It's a bit rogue, exciting and allows me to be foreign. M. said a few months ago that I '...love to be the foreigner.' And, I do. I also like being nomadic and mobile. A few more weeks and I'll have this settled. The second part to work was that a lot of my friends at work were let go. So, while I was stressing over the official chance at a new period of life, they were getting notified to leave. I've literally never experienced anything like that. I walked into the office and it felt toxic. The air, the people and the space all seemed toxic. Everyone knew what was going on. It wasn't until the next day that the air cleared and everything seemed normal again. It was an awful experience to witness, but it was good to see. It was good to see how people are affected. How difficult it is and how it's not something anyone can take lightly however, it also needs to happen sometimes.

I'm glad this week is finally ending, and now I'm only a few days away from Minnesota! I discovered a new brilliant pastry at my favorite stand in the Union Square Market - the Apple Tart. It sounds normal. Apple, pastry, done. But, no. I swear it is so much more than a standard pastry. This pastry helped me get through this week. The apples are great- baked and tender but not too mushy. The pastry is sprinkled with raw sugar and tastes like real butter in every bite. If I become obese because of this, I'll get there happily. This is a pick of a fantastic pastry stall in Borough Market, London to help you visualize my obsession with pastries.


Tomorrow I'm going to try and join in on this...

SantaCon NYC. A friend is going to try and pick up some antlers for me tonight. If all goes well, I'll be buddying up with hundreds of festive Santas tomorrow. Tis the season!

T-minus 8 days and counting until I land in the Twin Cities!

I kind of have a complex about staying in one place too long. I think my dream would be to live as a lady of leisure. The things I love involve traveling, eating, photography, reading and journaling. If I only had exemplary skills in any of those areas, I'd have a shot at being a lady of leisure! Perhaps in another lifetime.

This past weekend I walked around LES and some other parts of lower Manhattan with M and S. Good day for graffiti. Here is one of my favourites from Saturday...

This was another favorite of mine...not sure if it is a particular quote from something or not, though.


I got a Spanish Latte from Think (awesome, awesome coffee shop) and it was better than the one's I'd had in the past. Perhaps the intro to the coffee was better this time. A. I was freezing. B. I love the smell of freshly ground coffee beans and espresso drinks, which it did. C. It was less sweet than the last time I remembered having one.

I am on day 9 of my Adventskalender. D sent it over from Munich and it's fantastic, but I could have used about 5 more of them today. I feel bad even thinking about opening the doors for the upcoming days. Seems sacrelig. Being German, the chocolates are brilliant... Here's the calender at day two...

Wondering how my Mumbaikar friends are doing...leave me a message and let me know!

I follow a lot of blogs, especially travel blogs. It seems like my 'blogging friends' are doing their own stories of the Mumbai attacks, so here is my connection.

I was on the treadmill last week staring blankly at the TVs like usual. Walking and watching the normal trash on E! and ESPN. I looked further towards the right to the last TV. CNN rotated clips of India. It's strange to be pulled into breaking news because you recognize the places in the clips before you read the scrolling headlines. I recognized the style: buildings, cars, and graffiti. It was India. It was Mumbai. It was the hotel I stayed in for three weeks from Diwali through Thanksgiving last year. The Taj hotel wasn't my favorite hotel, but it is widely known and worth a visit for history's sake. They showed an empty VT (the Grand Central Station of Mumbai, if you will) with blood pooled on the floor. I remember climbing the stairs into the station and walking across the tiled floor, being pushed and bumped into from every angle as I looked around.

My most recent trip to Mumbai was over the summer during the time of the bombings in Bangalore, which were a much smaller scale than the Mumbai attacks. Even at that time, I wasn't concerned about my safety, although it seemed as if everyone else was. Pulling in and out of 'western' hotels involved guards running mirrors under the car and searches through the trunk. The only point I was slightly worried about dying in an attack was at the airport departing Mumbai. A suspicious package was left near the check-in area I needed to be at. The bomb squad roped the area off and was deciding when and how to remove the package. Had it been a bomb, I had nothing but a velvet rope between me and it. I’m not sure how traveling has made me fearless – dental work without Novocain in Bangalore, eating ‘black’ tofu (you don’t want to know), riding on the top of a Landrover through dunes only holding onto the luggage rack for safety… I guess I’d rather live a little dangerously than miss something along the way. Funny, I haven’t incorporated as much fearlessness in my everyday life!

This was a picture from my trip last year. The Taj hotel is on the left and suffered a significant amount of damage due to the shootings, bombs, fires and hostage situation.




Happy Thanksgiving!

My original plan was to spend Thanksgiving parked on the couch in front of the TV catching up on all of the junk I miss while at work. I was home for a visit at the end of October and already have tickets to go home for the Christmas holiday, so a visit in November seemed like a lot. (A lot of time at home, a lot of $$...) Well, I ran into a friend the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and my plans changed. I was invited to spend the day with friends in the UWS. So, that is what I did. I hung out with former coworkers and their kids. It was actually neat to see. I feel like quite a transplant in NY. I am under the impression that I don't live in NY, I just stay here. So, hanging out in apartment that a family has had for over 20 years is pretty remarkable for me. I asked all sorts of questions about the neighborhood and building was like when they first moved in. All in all, a nice day.

Southbury where it always comes down to 'Automatic Weapons' or 'Chinatown'.

Apples to Apples. Always ends up ridiculous. Need I say more?

Whinging about bobbles.

Friday night looked something like this...


Because of this, we thought doing this the following night was a good idea...


We decided our Irish friends needed an introduction to a proper Thanksgiving. I mean, we seem to have turned ourselves into beacons for anyone holding a foreign passport and we feel compelled to show off our version of 'Americana'.

Between four of us, we created an entire Thanksgiving dinner within one day without much notice. That is, we woke up around noon after surviving the night before (see aforementioned photo about Friday night) and motivated ourselves out the door and to the grocery store. From scratch- or darn close to it- we came up with a full meal. It was an achievement and super fun all at the same time. For me, it was my Thanksgiving since I'm not headed home this year. As a sidenote, I should mention that pre-holiday time tends to be more exciting and worthwhile to me than any actual holiday. The boys tried sweet potatoes for the first time and didn't think they were anything terribly remarkable. Everyone had a good time. Especially when the box competition started. Basically, you lean over without bending your knees or using your hands and you pick up a box with your teeth. Since the boys had such a poor showing, we allowed them to bend one knee so they could get a bit closer to the ground. Even then, three of us (oh yeah, me included!) beat them without any help. Yay us? Yay yoga?


Ich hab die echte Gummibärchen! Haribo macht Kinder froh (und Erwachsene ebenso)!

I finally received the package from D. Lovely gal sent over real German gummi bears (die echte), Toffifee...and an Advent calender. So many little doors to open up, so much effort and self-restraint not to do so.


Favorite sentence of the day...A. to Y, 'When does the ass kicking commence?'

Venting and making fun of it. What more is there to say?

Started going to the gym again...muscles are being punished.

Yes. Finally. Back to the gym, which is a good thing because I tend to let myself off the hook as it is. Actually paying for a membership for a gym right around the corner on the way to the subway is my kick in the pants to actually use it. Now, I can get back to eating anything and everything without as much regard.

Got the Kölsch glass home in 1 piece instead of hundreds.

I think I was on my 7th or so drink of the night so, I have to admit that the Kölsch didn't go down as smoothly as any other previous experience with the beverage I'd had. Either way, I mentioned to J. I liked the glass, but didn't want it to end up in 100 or more pieces in my bag so he swiped it from my hand, and put it away in his pocket asking 'What glass?' Certainly. We headed over to Manitoba for another pint (Brooklyn Lager goes down easier than Kölsch...what has become of me?) and after explaining the plastic bottle of brandy in J's pocket, he remember the glass in the other pocket...it made it home, but just barely. The first thing I did when I got home was just drop my purse on the floor. Brilliant. The glass survived. Rejoice!

Just met Jamie Oliver. Brilliant! However I will still only collect his cookbooks for the pictures and not for the use of cooking.

Oh yes. Jamie Oliver. Love him. Love his books. Love his shows. I made my college roommate sick watching the Naked Chef series. If you've watched them you know the camera work was a little 'Blair Witch Project' esque. Jamie was just walking through the green market in Union Square with what seemed to be a publicist and another coworker, perhaps. So, I started digging around my bag with one hand while walking up to the publicist and asked if I could get a photo. I kind of feel like a moron now since I didn't really say much to him. What was I going to say, 'I love you, your shows and your books!' ? Um, no. Not cool. Well, the publicist took my camera and somehow turned it off so Jamie and I stood there like buddies staring at her. I figured what had happened and turned the camera back on. Anyway, shot taken. So, I was even uncooler and just said 'thanks'... Next time I run into Jamie, I'll tell him I love everything he does.

Two minutes in Bridgeport was more than enough and not recommended.

E., S. and I motivated and organized ourselves out to the CT yesterday. I was actually kind of amazed that we got ourselves out there. We rented a car at the airport and drove up there. No directional issues until we got to Bridgeport. For some reason, we couldn't seem to get ourselves out of that town. I stopped into a gas station to ask for directions and walked out smelling like a combination of gasoline, exhaust fumes, cigarettes and curry. Two minutes in a gas station, crazy. Anyway, we made it and that is what is important.




Watching history being made...I will no longer need to be 'from Canada' when I travel.

I was excited Tuesday night. I watched election coverage all evening and even when all of the networks and newspapers started announcing Obama as the winner, I still thought there was going to be some crazy event like recounting votes or some other rediculous stunt to delay the results. It wasn't until McCain gave his 'defeat' speech that I was really confident that Obama was indeed the president elect. The insane thing is that I don't think I'm all that crazy for thinking 'it can all be taken away' until it all seemed too confirmed to be taken away. So it is... I also feel pretty good about not having to explain 'my country' to foreign friends. I am saying this from experience from the last election.

Rocking a pink wig, wings and covered in glitter. Just a regular Friday around here...

I saw one vampire child on my way to the subway today and a pregnant prom queen while walking down 6th Ave during lunch, but not too many costumes otherwise. That is, outside of the office. We've got some random wigs and headbands in addition to major league sports outfits and super heroes. I have got a pink shaggy wig which, funnily enough, doesn't look too different from my real haircut. And, a pair of glittery wings which have covered me and my whole cube from top to bottom in a layer of glitter.

On Wednesday, I met up with C & A (the Austrians) and I showed them the view from LIC of Manhattan. They were estatic and it definitely hit them that they were in NYC. It was cold and the wind kept reminding us of that, so they took a few (hundred) photos and then we headed back up to the train while they told me about their day and the crazy things they saw. This included a batmobile and the naked cowboy. We headed to Woodside for a little pre-Halloween pumpkin party/America's Next Top Model. And, this is what happened...

*Non Twitter initiated topic...

Today and yesterday were self inflicted stress and pain. They just were. I had shit due ages ago and I had it started. Other work stuff just got in the way so I didn't complete it and I'm in the dog house. I am honestly a little unnerved by how much this affects my whole being. My face is hot, I feel a cold coming on and I'm in a gray mood. It feels like the time I got into a huge fight was C. many years ago. At that time I remember being completely on edge and self censored in a way to try and avoid all types of conflict and my shoulders were so tight I might as well have been a professional weightlifter.

On the reverse, I do have to acknowledge the kindness of acquaintences. A friend of a friend stopped by today while on her vacation and she brought some German magazines for me. I am at a very desperate level of trying to get my German back up to a minimum crappy level of conversation. (minimum-crappy, that's descriptive, isn't it?) I'm reaching for straws, that's for sure. At any rate, I'm meeting her and her friend tomorrow evening to show them a view of Manhattan from the Queens side and then taking them to a pre-Halloween party including pumpkin carving! Yay!

In NY and coffeeing. I miss the Twin Cities (until snow hits and then I dislike it until spring).

I miss the Twin Cities when I'm not there. This past visit, I missed it even while I was there. It's always inevitable that I'll get up and go- I want to be a mobile person, I strive to be a mobile person, however this time the Cities was different. I hit the perfect part of the year, fall. The colors change, sweaters come out and my friends had time to visit. I was able to plainly see the path in life I didn't take by leaving Minnesota. I know I wouldn't have ultimately been happy if I stayed, but the blatant view of 'what I could have had...' was unmistakable. The thing is that I'm still not ready for a life back in the Cities. I'm closer to it than I was a few years ago, but it still feels like a life to settle down into. It's the 'settling' part I can't quite commit to.

Grand Ave...oh how I miss thee...

MacGroveland/Grand Ave./Summit Ave/Cathedral area is fantastic. This is one of my favorite areas to have a coffee in when I'm at home. The neighborhoods are cosy, the food is brilliant and the coffee is great.

Live from Minnesota

I feel my social calender while in the Cities has been kind of full. It's a little betraying because if I lived here, I wouldn't be nearly as busy. It has been nice to see so many friends, though. I am glad that it still 'works' between us all despite all of our various paths since our friendships began.

Landed. I'm here. I'm fine. I need a little more sleep.

I am here in Minnesota. At JFK I had to get rid of a few things from my suitcase because it was too heavy. Since I decided to pack my suitcase with only un-did laundry, I threw out some old shirts and stuff. A young couple looked to be on their way home with some overpacked bags and their mother supervised their unpacking, downsizing and packing. Actually, she didn't do much supervising of them as she did me- at one point she saw me putting things in a separate bag (which would shortly find itself in the bin...) and was like "if you're just going to throw it away, I'll take it..." Um. No. As I mentioned earlier, this was some nasty laundry. Why would I throw out new clothes? I got up to the check-in counter and the check-in lady looked at the bag and then looked at me..."You're over by 5 pounds. Do you want to check in a second bag for $25 more or pay the excessive weight fee of $100?" No lady. I don't have another bag and I don't want to spend any more money. Finally she decided to overlook the few pounds... I am keeping this in mind for my return trip. I am kind of annoyed by the new charge for luggage, at least on domestic travel. My previous trips in the recent past have been international, so I haven't had an issue with weight limits (because they're higher!) or even extra charges for checking a piece of luggage. This is certainly a new world of flying for me.

I am in the land of 10,000 lakes. I wouldn't be a good Minnesotan if I didn't somehow mention that there are actually more than 10,000 lakes here...

The descent into the Twin Cities is always nice in the fall...the leaves hadn't quite changed color, but it was just starting. Topped it off with a Caribou after landing: perfect.

Kein Alkohol ist auch keine Lösung. Ich hab es immer wieder versucht...Es würde gehn doch es geht nicht gut

This is basically an extended Oktoberfest post. The good thing is that the Oktoberfest evening ended early enough for me to get home, sleep a few hours, pack and then head off to the airport.

Minnesota here I come! (As long as Northwest doesn't go bankrupt and I survive fake-Oktoberfest activities tonight.)

The countdown for MN always begins a few days before departing since I like to make sure the airlines aren't going to go bankrupt. Northwest manages to file for bankruptcy what seems like once a year. And now it looks like Sun Country is following the same path. Perhaps I may never make it back home in the future!

The word 'Oktoberfest' fills me with a mixture of concern and excitement. Concern because of my personal experience with consuming liters (notice the word LITER is in plural) of a certain beverage in Munich. That whole experience and story will need to be saved for another day when I feel like talking about Italians, Ami's (exchange students and soldiers) and a never ending trip on the train. The excitement part is that remarkable German connection...even though I know it's a Bavarian thing...and Bavaria was never my favorite part of Germany...it's German nonetheless and even the idea of a Germanlike outing is appealing. When we all actually gathered at the bar, it never ended up being German or even fake-Oktoberfest-y. I guess it doesn't matter much in the end...a good time was had by all and that is what counts.

The Epic Battle was fun, but I don't know if we won it...

This sort of relates to the 'No Pants' post I made earlier. The group who brought you No Pants on the 6 Train also did a little something called the MP3 Experiement on Governer's Island. A hysterical time was had by all. E. and I rode the ferry to the island with a couple hundred fellow participants and a person in a bear costume. Full on bear mascot type of costume.

Correction: Happy Indian Birthday K!
This is the properly published headline. Me, E and K went out to dinner as sort of a pre-departure dinner. We went to one of the crazy Indian restaurants on 1st east of Astor Place. It is one of those restaurants where they put up every decoration...strings of red christmas lights, blow up balls and dolls are hanging from the ceiling. Anyway, E and I decided it would be halarious and only fair if we declared it was K's birthday...and so it was. After we finished with dinner the lights dimmed and a disco ball started with some crazy version of 'happy birthday' over the sound system. Halarious.

Happy Indian Birthday J!
Ah, the first published attempt at the Indian Birthday...without use of the nickname.

No pants is funny.
A. It just is. No way around that.
B. It's a semi-known event which occurs on the 6 train.
C. While getting ready to go out on Thursday night, I looked out the window and saw my newest interest: the overweight woman who has not yet worn pants while cooking. Let me explain this a little more since I sound like a freak at the moment. This woman cooking with no pants is like my own mini auto accident- the phenomenon where you want to look away, but can't seem to pull your gaze away from the window. I can't stop wondering why she feels the need to cook without pants. It seems like an almost-danger situation. The weather was fall-ish, so it was definitely not too hot or cold, even considering the heat from cooking. It's mind boggling. Anyway, she made her way into my conversations for the rest of the weekend...

Happy American Mexican German Birthday C!
Birthday's happen. Birthday's are celebrated in Mexican restaurants. Birthday's occur for German's visiting NY. Birthday's happen for a guy on a day when it wasn't his birthday. Put this all together and you get an unsuspecting German guy in a Mexican restaurant wearing a sombrero and told it's his birthday. We considered it a great time to teach him about cultural exchange.

Wienerschnitzel. Echt.
J is Austrian. So J & C volunteered to cook dinner for us. Wienerschnitzel. So good. I wanted to steal their passports. I don't do much cooking. I would really like to do more of it and learn how to throw something fantastic together. Ah, aspirations. Anyway, I have to say that even cold Wienerschnitzel consumed after an evening of drinking is really good. It quelled my hangover; unfortunately it didn't have the same effect on the boys. As inferred, we had dinner and then went out to Tonic in Times Square for a sort of work-related event. Ok, it was an open bar sponsored by another digital company and my coworkers and I all attended. Hence 'sort of work-related.' A guy from a random agency decided to share the only German he knew with us "Ich habe eine Grosse Schlange." Right. He then looked at J & C and told them not to tell ME what he just said. So, I told the bastard I knew exactly what he said. This is why learning foreign languages is so important and interesting: strangers say the darndest things!

Oh my twitter.

Zwei Fliegen mit einer Klappe schlagen.
I love getting a lot of things done, I just don't like multitasking quite as much. I get so distracted. I will start about ten different things and one completely irrelevant task will come up and I'll follow that like a pretty shiny thing to a baby. It happens. I'm working on this. Aparently, not working quite hard enough because I'm writing this instead of doing one of a million other things.

I think I see B rate celebs wherever I go. Then again, who doesn't accidently look like a B celeb sometime?
I have been seeing reality TV stars lately. I'm not 100% sure it was even them, but I figure the odds are good. This is NYC. Their reality shows took place here.

Coffee-ing for a little while. Or, the rest of the day. I do what my addiction asks.
Three cups today. Strong.

Glad Glen Hansard is keeping me company.
I love-love-love Pandora most of the time. Particularly when my mood and Pandora sync up. This typically happens when Glen makes an appearance.

Hong Kong in Heels

My feet hurt. I walk significantly shorter distances in Hong Kong so I convinced myself to torture my feet almost every day with heels. I am a flat shoe kind of girl. All sorts of cute shoes came into my life recently from scouring clearance racks and heels have taken over my shoe collection. Last night I was out for dinner and miscelaneous fun in LKF. The feet were fine at Azure on top of LKF Hotel. I got hit in the face with exhaustion while everyone danced around me. The EuroCup games take place at a rediculous hour in the Asian time zones. I woke up at 4am to catch the end of the Germany/Spain game that morning and was paying for it. The hour was almost completely unreasonable to wake up at, Germany played hard but lost the game and I was out late: all three of those factors felt obscene in my head at midnight. Had Germany won the game, I think I would have felt less tired! Ha! Anyway, we went across the street to a club and I almost went home at that point. But, W. grabbed me to have me at least get a stamp on my hand and then I could take off if I wanted to and still be able to come back. Well, with a stamp already on my hand and the Q. standing at coat check, I ended up in the club. It was the July 1 holiday the next day so we drank (straight from the bottle/service) and danced until the Queen and I escaped around 3am. We walked down the street to find an ATM and my feet were killing me. The slight wedge heel held up all day, but wasn't being friendly anymore. I think an apology is in order. I am sorry for torturing you- my feet- but you did look really cute.