I just reread some of my first writings when I moved to Munich. One fucking year ago. One year ago today. Now it is once again the Assumption of Mary, but now it’s on a Monday which means I have the day off from work. Thank god, cause I am exhausted. As if to cap off the sheer amazingness of my year here in Europe, I’ve spent the last week in Sweden swept up in the madness of Aaron Franklin, helping with BBQ classes and having truly surreal and liver damaging adventures. However, that’s going to have to get covered next time.
Today is a Ruhe Tag, and, therefore, a day to reflect. I never could have guessed what the last year dealt out to me. Operas, Todd Terje, the Alps, skiing, visitors, beer, new food, a real god damn job, incredible lows and harrowing highs. All because I was lucky enough to be dumb enough to do this.
I was talking to some Swedish wine importers a few days ago, and I asked them how they got into the business, and they wound up talking about how hard it has been, especially in the beginning. One of them said if he’d known how hard it would be he probably wouldn’t have done it, but that’s the ignorance that allows you to do big projects.
I get asked all the time how long I will stay, I know I’m living a real dream here, and I love it, but I never quite now how to answer that question. What I do know is that I’m not done. There’s still a lot of bike riding to do, a lot of currywurst to eat, and a lot of you who haven’t visited yet.
Now that the machine of life is actually up, running, and makes sense, I feel that the most important thing is to start making things better. I feel bad complaining about my job, since I’m lucky to have it at all, but to settle and be complacent isn’t in me. I know I could be doing better work, I know I should be further along, and I will not get tucked away in an office drawer. I’m back out in the freakish hustle of dating, trying to break old habits and regain the heady confidence that took me through the waves of all those dates last year.
The romantic image that I can’t shake is the couple walking down the streets of a European city soaking in the place, yet completely engrossed in one another. I was that once, I see it all the time, and I know it’s out there, but I have to find it.
Thanks to the job I’ve got people that I’d consider real friends, not just pals of convenience or activity buddies. Stefano and I cycle a lot together, and will continue to do so, I hope. Every time we ride we talk endlessly about the maddening puzzle that is German women. While I was in Sweden he scheduled a get together with a german guy, so this week we are going to sit down and compare our notes and theories with a native’s perspective.
The adventures and surprises continue.
Arriving home last night I was so pleased to be back in my apartment, with my bed, and I stood out on the balcony at 1 am, in the warm summer night, and felt like the luckiest guy in Europe. I wonder what the next great challenge will be.
Anyway, weather report says crummy rain tomorrow, so hopefully I’ll have some time and I can sit down and explain, at least in part, the week that included this: