tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53559309532411586892024-02-06T21:37:30.668-08:00It all started in GermanyRatchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-84082066639630128822010-07-07T11:15:00.000-07:002010-07-07T11:40:45.863-07:00World Cup FEVER!!!!<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38A1Dq6f5wDb0d_vfYCDz00n0-QPbGeDDJ7qdk2QSsgA3UbGdfUxixNK1HWS04Hr11o12ovBxUOgduQgMjbjxhM9AyIsm9H7Ptk-WklY2UIItK7_LXuaUAJr__ti9-VJ16BNxCzlVscUV/s1600/DSCI0604.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38A1Dq6f5wDb0d_vfYCDz00n0-QPbGeDDJ7qdk2QSsgA3UbGdfUxixNK1HWS04Hr11o12ovBxUOgduQgMjbjxhM9AyIsm9H7Ptk-WklY2UIItK7_LXuaUAJr__ti9-VJ16BNxCzlVscUV/s320/DSCI0604.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491234201794003314" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I am never watching the world cup in the states again... It would just be too disappointing compared to being here! I can't even describe to you the feeling. The intensity. The INSANITY!!! I love every moment of it! I think I have watched more soccer games (I have to try really hard to say soccer now instead of football) during this world cup than I have my entire life! I am not even kidding you.... :) But since I can't really explain to you all of it... I will just put up videos from the games and pictures. Enjoy football in Europe!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4nQl3LL3oBrhr76j3YtnEC4x-kFb0COWKavRtX6Od_K-OaEVh8ssMWZUfGLBrDGdObmzvBSd2gfgaxYUcojxKJcKf3wwxbAoiH3UQMV5Eo7EzWSeJXdewgL7d8OGXxQbH3ERDSwMIpNea/s320/DSCI0486.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491234193677169234" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;">Yeah... that is me. That is where I watched a couple games :)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzFdXH0p13zdxBF7WEvTjrNFQAC3f5phhzHKKXl4UITNvhCGuwUfkawM1PmN94h931bjUbIK5n5uHsSX_73ww' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The above video is just the crowds at a game... it was INSANE!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTTADJsWfjjwgfwq52J5kW2ne0UmSyKE4MNAXSqKAeA_9qk0WGJYHYBLUMyuwDMWt_DcolFZPcgiZ6ICVmvy0xCAF7d9jpytj48cGz9UGQB_IJM55GI-eeIbNgD7YbjPY4W7KugmXB3O55/s1600/DSCI0490.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTTADJsWfjjwgfwq52J5kW2ne0UmSyKE4MNAXSqKAeA_9qk0WGJYHYBLUMyuwDMWt_DcolFZPcgiZ6ICVmvy0xCAF7d9jpytj48cGz9UGQB_IJM55GI-eeIbNgD7YbjPY4W7KugmXB3O55/s320/DSCI0490.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491234216423731186" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is the view from my ledge. You can't see the huge crowd in there.. but it is insane! Everytime there is a score.. You get covered in beer cause people start waving their arms :)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVLFvVgopLAV31Z0i1zW3UUg-l6_6iaTmzBKGmfJdxkM15O7-RlWaO0qSkUquZorBGdKJDAWayU-qw583x3KQgNKJ3M-AJFGd5BtZLv6NYE5r4dQ0x-pU7cxROieQYUficnrc3T0qvh4aA/s1600/DSCI0502.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVLFvVgopLAV31Z0i1zW3UUg-l6_6iaTmzBKGmfJdxkM15O7-RlWaO0qSkUquZorBGdKJDAWayU-qw583x3KQgNKJ3M-AJFGd5BtZLv6NYE5r4dQ0x-pU7cxROieQYUficnrc3T0qvh4aA/s320/DSCI0502.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491234211273808178" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38A1Dq6f5wDb0d_vfYCDz00n0-QPbGeDDJ7qdk2QSsgA3UbGdfUxixNK1HWS04Hr11o12ovBxUOgduQgMjbjxhM9AyIsm9H7Ptk-WklY2UIItK7_LXuaUAJr__ti9-VJ16BNxCzlVscUV/s1600/DSCI0604.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38A1Dq6f5wDb0d_vfYCDz00n0-QPbGeDDJ7qdk2QSsgA3UbGdfUxixNK1HWS04Hr11o12ovBxUOgduQgMjbjxhM9AyIsm9H7Ptk-WklY2UIItK7_LXuaUAJr__ti9-VJ16BNxCzlVscUV/s1600/DSCI0604.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38A1Dq6f5wDb0d_vfYCDz00n0-QPbGeDDJ7qdk2QSsgA3UbGdfUxixNK1HWS04Hr11o12ovBxUOgduQgMjbjxhM9AyIsm9H7Ptk-WklY2UIItK7_LXuaUAJr__ti9-VJ16BNxCzlVscUV/s1600/DSCI0604.JPG"></a></div><div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxwn83hAAwyttpdWUTqnMt31sLRVsSwGfdCKz3luiI8EM8E5Xqx_IXVcDYO1S3OUUH4RPagBANHGBPXAoLA3w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzl1cPZRgnnkYZdTJxLULlOPlqyDmvEp7DDBn1WRbGK72lQqI-xW32Us7Rjb9-f8RyVx7gYYKtA2mSxIX19bQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRbs8UeLpd98HdjAWjfpRHGOjvY-xD9OZNgElwurhhNivVY-bqkU8jYZRAp6YpePli4j_X_2kZJOLys6eq8qdr7M0Df3pUJsUhZeCKImuZ4-eT3v99ulXBNjAB5CLud-NSh1UPlQ0JMUID/s1600/DSCI0597.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRbs8UeLpd98HdjAWjfpRHGOjvY-xD9OZNgElwurhhNivVY-bqkU8jYZRAp6YpePli4j_X_2kZJOLys6eq8qdr7M0Df3pUJsUhZeCKImuZ4-eT3v99ulXBNjAB5CLud-NSh1UPlQ0JMUID/s320/DSCI0597.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491234754416523522" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhphnNHJvbn6j9G3mEoJQm26n9ZCbLlDBdEpb5HuaybCpUMVI6HpA7GLn5zZD2V206BqKWB_u3utAjmbqw1kNoxqwfrCkh_UUR2kywAMDl0MBYePExlgj2rJxZO5QcVDwftdp5fGg7zrBZ9/s1600/DSCI0503.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhphnNHJvbn6j9G3mEoJQm26n9ZCbLlDBdEpb5HuaybCpUMVI6HpA7GLn5zZD2V206BqKWB_u3utAjmbqw1kNoxqwfrCkh_UUR2kywAMDl0MBYePExlgj2rJxZO5QcVDwftdp5fGg7zrBZ9/s320/DSCI0503.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491234744649023970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLSEBqkndq2yNS960_VnyrxbVeR0675pEYo6E9oj7zUSGgtjK83BN2jYYW19ckCbzejrWiiWlx2eoFWG1kRwHUYMo0vxsdkui7K1lO4_5BtzbZv30WYXqep6iblrQVJS4jmaNcGPe2x4O/s1600/DSCI0599.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLSEBqkndq2yNS960_VnyrxbVeR0675pEYo6E9oj7zUSGgtjK83BN2jYYW19ckCbzejrWiiWlx2eoFWG1kRwHUYMo0vxsdkui7K1lO4_5BtzbZv30WYXqep6iblrQVJS4jmaNcGPe2x4O/s1600/DSCI0599.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLSEBqkndq2yNS960_VnyrxbVeR0675pEYo6E9oj7zUSGgtjK83BN2jYYW19ckCbzejrWiiWlx2eoFWG1kRwHUYMo0vxsdkui7K1lO4_5BtzbZv30WYXqep6iblrQVJS4jmaNcGPe2x4O/s1600/DSCI0599.JPG"></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dytcIfy8Vqkcr64Vt7YUiJh8rZXQCcoqtNb-1c0Qx2KAufMMRQ0mUQFIbBTCEyck0qwbIjcQpqhlKTyNfPmmg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_C0FTRkoCBLmCc523krF1plz9LWf66ocFZoBC7kOuiAAQ6YX6zSNz97jlg4hDaNswR5XKEDO5VVZhjJkyQQKrw5V1rqyP2qKylAFaV-BDAzJq9tbkd5YBUyflWrztzT1kE-2D67DFXI_m/s1600/DSCI0498.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_C0FTRkoCBLmCc523krF1plz9LWf66ocFZoBC7kOuiAAQ6YX6zSNz97jlg4hDaNswR5XKEDO5VVZhjJkyQQKrw5V1rqyP2qKylAFaV-BDAzJq9tbkd5YBUyflWrztzT1kE-2D67DFXI_m/s320/DSCI0498.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491234759931622562" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLSEBqkndq2yNS960_VnyrxbVeR0675pEYo6E9oj7zUSGgtjK83BN2jYYW19ckCbzejrWiiWlx2eoFWG1kRwHUYMo0vxsdkui7K1lO4_5BtzbZv30WYXqep6iblrQVJS4jmaNcGPe2x4O/s1600/DSCI0599.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLSEBqkndq2yNS960_VnyrxbVeR0675pEYo6E9oj7zUSGgtjK83BN2jYYW19ckCbzejrWiiWlx2eoFWG1kRwHUYMo0vxsdkui7K1lO4_5BtzbZv30WYXqep6iblrQVJS4jmaNcGPe2x4O/s320/DSCI0599.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491234743897905954" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">GO DEUTSCHLAND!!!</div></div>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-81789521245892612032010-07-05T06:58:00.000-07:002010-07-05T07:00:53.528-07:002 year anniversary!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY4TMsxXUBWhfDffs9tRuhL___YmK2TOUkILkufnfkqlBSJ-tjzZMM3UFJh07AwgzEE8dOjrWtvgTYaY7MS3n8yWu0VU-pV7UWNMifkiAXpXzr_h2Ix15aF88fZdWXxI1aIfVabyNp1DBV/s1600/timp.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY4TMsxXUBWhfDffs9tRuhL___YmK2TOUkILkufnfkqlBSJ-tjzZMM3UFJh07AwgzEE8dOjrWtvgTYaY7MS3n8yWu0VU-pV7UWNMifkiAXpXzr_h2Ix15aF88fZdWXxI1aIfVabyNp1DBV/s320/timp.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490421789212779298" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal">July 5, 2008 is a day I will never forget. To the rest of the world it was just another day. For me, it was a life altering day. This was the day that I got sealed to my family in the temple.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I know a lot of you know what that means, but I also know some of you don’t. It is hard for me to explain exactly what that is, but I am going to try.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I believe in it with my whole heart and soul. There is nothing that could make me happier and I have seen the difference it makes in my life and the lives of others. In my church we believe that there is life after death. That there is more.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In the temple there are certain ordinances performed that last longer than this life.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Things that death can’t touch or effect. When I went to the temple with my family to the temple, I was sealed to them. In simple terms it means I will be connected to my family forever. Not just until death, but for all eternity. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">There are times when I am here in Germany that I really miss my family. Ok, I honestly miss them a lot. They are my favorite people ever and I love being around them.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The thought that no matter what happens to us in this life, that I will have them… That makes it ok. I may miss out on seeing them for a year, but knowing that I get them forever makes it better.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Puts it all in perspective.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">So on this anniversary of the day that I got sealed to my family, I just want to tell everyone how happy I am! How happy this all makes me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I love my family so much and I love that I never really have to say goodbye to them thanks to my Lord. I know he really does love me and cares so much for me. I hope you all have an amazing day. May you be as happy as I am today!!!</p>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-26083668771085582812010-06-10T08:15:00.001-07:002010-06-10T08:25:47.973-07:00Better late than never right? This is Leipzig. Leipzig, this is everyone :)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzu7gk2QoId_O0U0MFagS4-P8TfLTCkj_5KlJ8bSbTF4vkP0wxg8ljWk_KXcX7SNFyYgB1kffwPUgCcGyEsTXR0yaKn7_OUpoAXqiPDEwYCVu1MtRApbFJmpsB5te8TwKuqYOpZh3zTkP9/s1600/DSCI0292.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzu7gk2QoId_O0U0MFagS4-P8TfLTCkj_5KlJ8bSbTF4vkP0wxg8ljWk_KXcX7SNFyYgB1kffwPUgCcGyEsTXR0yaKn7_OUpoAXqiPDEwYCVu1MtRApbFJmpsB5te8TwKuqYOpZh3zTkP9/s320/DSCI0292.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481164934159334802" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Debbie :) Love the girl! We had too much fun dancing </span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKGISh9EcAhxt0w7WR-pQxeEAiXFIVmUNZs3HW1cJq9i59PA3QJaYU9mNQla63muMq0gqgxgP9ahkIx0zMkkg2RUZtfg4QDQn6SaAiWwMgT5Z6drLekC-OilCSmXIJYJN_z7XnUe0vLOPj/s1600/DSCI0286.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKGISh9EcAhxt0w7WR-pQxeEAiXFIVmUNZs3HW1cJq9i59PA3QJaYU9mNQla63muMq0gqgxgP9ahkIx0zMkkg2RUZtfg4QDQn6SaAiWwMgT5Z6drLekC-OilCSmXIJYJN_z7XnUe0vLOPj/s320/DSCI0286.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481164930561999602" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">This is what you find when you live in Germany with a very German name. Your name is on EVERYTHING!</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcaVPH_aYKeNMwtx2hQyZKs0IDpD_pm6U1flqCpD9L1arRd0ryiTQ8meC8TidIby2Bqh0HUkOUqlW_j0krZCgOK2H9DOEprhQM5PIUF-6BQpMQR-0Op9jOJBx4m4m2llviUJGBwF0YxDw4/s1600/attempt+1.jpg"></a></span></span><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcaVPH_aYKeNMwtx2hQyZKs0IDpD_pm6U1flqCpD9L1arRd0ryiTQ8meC8TidIby2Bqh0HUkOUqlW_j0krZCgOK2H9DOEprhQM5PIUF-6BQpMQR-0Op9jOJBx4m4m2llviUJGBwF0YxDw4/s1600/attempt+1.jpg"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcaVPH_aYKeNMwtx2hQyZKs0IDpD_pm6U1flqCpD9L1arRd0ryiTQ8meC8TidIby2Bqh0HUkOUqlW_j0krZCgOK2H9DOEprhQM5PIUF-6BQpMQR-0Op9jOJBx4m4m2llviUJGBwF0YxDw4/s320/attempt+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481164916852486418" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">No idea what this is... I just liked it.</span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieqiHGvmxyIYn8saG0yBotxSfr1sr0u4jT_wtsSeOuXMsKxaEcvffyxhH6NmPbLRuEO4nxWIeB-1rS8p6NPeNaB1fW-eysLkYwlEl257EVpaXeVQKsruKuWKCXMOT_q7MAGdWr-thMRO7g/s1600/Girls+.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 254px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieqiHGvmxyIYn8saG0yBotxSfr1sr0u4jT_wtsSeOuXMsKxaEcvffyxhH6NmPbLRuEO4nxWIeB-1rS8p6NPeNaB1fW-eysLkYwlEl257EVpaXeVQKsruKuWKCXMOT_q7MAGdWr-thMRO7g/s320/Girls+.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481164909958231458" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Ashley, Esther, me, and Erika. We all better hang out again sometime. It was strange not seeing them everyday...</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 10px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 10px;font-size:12px;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">To say I have been neglecting my blog would be an understatement.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The great part of this all though… Is the fact that it is a blog! The only feelings it has, are the ones I give it. I guess I have been long overdue for that. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The reason I have not written anything lately, is because I have not really been on any trips or anything and writing about my everyday life…. Well I would have been writing the same things over and over. I think the only thing that has changed (who knows when this changed and if I mentioned it), is my biking habits. I usually bike about 24 miles twice a weeks to the church. It is actually a really fun little ride. I will probably include a video of it next time I go.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Ok, back to the point. Months ago I was told about a YSA (JAE auf Deutsch) convention and I automatically wrote it off. I didn’t really see it happening since I have work and why would I randomly have from a Wednesday to a Sunday off? Wrote it off, never thought about it again. THEN I was sitting there in Church on May 9</span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">th</span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> (I am being specific for myself later on when I don’t remember these things. Deal with it.) And there was some mention of it. I leaned over to Em and realized that I did in fact have from Wednesday to Sunday off. No idea why still, but I did and that is what mattered. I was up in the air about it, then Monday some stuff happened that finally pushed me over the edge or off the fence, and I decided I was going. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The convention was in Leipzig, so after chatting with Em and phone calls I had a ride. Awesome! Had no idea what I was getting myself into, but it was getting me out of Frankfurt. The car ride was a lot longer than I would have liked. It was a long weekend so EVERYONE was going somewhere. But here… There are not too many ways to get away.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So everyone is using the same road. AH! Here we are, stuck in a parking lot of an autobahn. Sad really.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We finally got there at about 1 in the morning. Just in time to help clean up. Not the best start, but again, I was out of Frankfurt. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We (meaning all of the YSA’s. From Switzerland, Germany, Austria, and well a bunch of random Americans) were all staying in this old gym. One floor for the guys and the next for the girls. Us girls lucked out :) we got to sleep on the old sweat smelling carpet floor with the toilets that kept breaking. Oy. At this point in time I don’t even care. I worked 10 hours that day, been awake since 6:30 in the morning and it was coming close to 3. I could have slept anywhere. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">At 5:30 in the morning I discovered something. I am not a European girl. I will give them this… They look AMAZING! I am sorry… I couldn’t do it. I was woken up at 5:30 as they started getting ready for the day, blow dryers going, hair brushes flying, even though they hadn’t gotten to bed till 3 as well. I was content to roll over and ignore them until about 8:30 since we didn’t have to get to breakfast until 9. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This brings us to Thursday. I was actually annoyed the most with this day. Everyone was speaking German (which is to be expected. I am still in Germany), but nobody was trying to help me be less confused and I had a hard time with that. We were doing this scavenger hunt, and I MIGHT be a little competitive. Possibly. But I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t help, write, look. Nothing. Everyone was just going and I was left in the dark catching a few words that were not helpful at all (I don’t know why the word potatoe sticks out so much to me, but it does. Not helpful though). Someone in our group wasn’t feeling very well, and it gave me an excuse to leave. I couldn’t stand being useless anymore. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We went back to the institute building and there was a pool table! Oh I was happy. So I started playing a game with someone and since I was slightly angry, wondering why in the world I was there. The great thing about playing pool when I am mad… I rock. I somehow make these insanely amazing shots! Everything is just perfect. BUT when that happens, it is hard to stay mad when I am being that amazing. I can’t help but smile. Then my game is just not as good, and I end up losing even though I was doing fantastic. Oh well. I needed that. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">There was also a bunch of Americans there (like 6 of them), and they were in Dresden doing a study abroad thing, and so they came to the convention as well, since they were there. Anytime I would try to talk to someone to get clarification about what was going on, they would try to put me back with my group, then were confused when I would tell them I wasn’t with that group. That I actually LIVED in Germany. They couldn’t quite get that one :) </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Most of that day was kind of a blur. I was really tired and most of the thing I did was just get to know people. I really met some fantastic people that I never want to lose contact with.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">OH! I remember! We had little classes. Not going to lie… didn’t get much out of them. The whole language barrier thing played a big factor in that, mixed with sleep deprivation. The second class I had a translator. Kinda. Tony was from Ogden and served his mission in Leipzig and was living in Stuttgart doing… an internship? I think. Anyways, he tried translating, but it didn’t end so well. Pretty much we just ended up talking since he would forget to translate, I would forget to focus and listen, and the teacher was an odd duck :) </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Afterwards we were having a movie night. There were games in the other rooms and I wasn’t really ready to sit down. I didn’t feel like sleeping and if I tried to watch a movie I would have been out! I heard them gathering people for a game and I couldn’t help but join! Werewolf. I played this game time and time again with friends from home and I was so excited to play something I ROCKED at and knew. I learned that it is significantly harder in German. The game is like Mafia, if you have played that one, and it is all about trying to convince people you are innocent and that the other people are the werewolves killing everyone. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Like usual, I was a werewolf. This was bound to be a fun game. I had someone translating for me, Jan. Rockstar of a translator. It was hard to get them playing because very few people had ever played it and they weren’t quite sure how to make it work.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I was worried about Jan and if he would keep translating when my head popped up as a werewolf. He just kept on going! Never skipped a beat and became the best asset since everyone assumed he wouldn’t do that! Amazing! It was funny when he would forget to listen and I would ask what is going on. His reply “Well this guy over here, he says he doesn’t like your haircut.”. The first time he said that it totally caught me off guard! That has NEVER happened to me! Not the bad haircut comment (come on, if you have known me for a while you know there have been a few), but someone that I had just met was messing with me! It is sad how much I have missed that.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I miss smack talk ( I will get back to that one) and I miss being made fun of in a fun way. Dinner is just not the same without someone getting insulted.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">As usual with that game, I won (thanks to Jan they didn’t see it coming!). I decided I didn’t want to do another round. It is just not as fun when you can’t tell what is going on. I would take my victory and walk away. I ended up sitting down and talking to Ashley, Esther, F…… Why can’t I remember his name?! I remember that it started with an F and that I just wanted to keep calling him Fabio because that is the only F name that comes to mind after Frieda. This is going to bug me… He was really cool too! AH! Anyways. We were sitting there talking about our stories. What brought us to the church. When we kinda got our testimonies. It was really cool to hear others and share mine. Then somehow it turned into this singing circle. Ashley and Debby were singing with this girl, who I don’t know her name! I feel awful but I don’t remember it! They were amazing. I couldn’t believe the talent in that little circle! Florian (THAT IS WHAT IT WAS!!!) was beatboxing to the songs (phenomenal), girl whos name I forgot was playing the guitar, Ian, Ashley and Debby were singing. Goodness! I don’t know if there is something in the water here, but I am going to drink more of it in case I start singing anything like these guys! Amazing.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Cleaning up, going back, and the cycle starts again. Girls waking up and getting ready for the day. I was on the verge of dying at this point. All I wanted was a shower. But well… I don’t do communal showers. I was trying to find a way to make this work. I was contemplating waking up at like 4 in the morning to shower then go back to sleep. Luckily I was informed that someone had found a single shower downstairs. I was the happiest person you could have found! AH! Just another point proving that I make a crappy European girl. That is normal for them, not me. Nope nope nope.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">After another night of sleeping on a lovely cold floor and waking up earlier than I would have liked, we headed over to the church to eat breakfast and get ready to play. I was really excited. We were playing volleyball! I couldn’t tell you the last time I got to play volleyball! I was still a little annoyed with some things and this was my life line. I don’t write too much about my emotions on my blog, cause I think it is strange to tell the world these things, so I will just leave it as, if I didn’t get to play volleyball I might have accidentally killed someone with my emotions. Even though nothing was their fault. They were just there. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">There were a few hang ups trying to get to where they were playing volleyball. I almost had a break down when I thought I wasn’t going to be able to play. Luckily I got there. It was a really cool place. It was indoor beach volleyball. After a few dives I was covered in sand. It was everywhere. Ears, toes, hair, everywhere. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I learned something funny then though about Europeans and volleyball. When it comes to soccer (it is really hard to focus and think if I should write soccer or fußball) they rock. They KILL! It is amazing. But for the most part… they don’t really play volleyball.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">There were a few times they would try and call some weird rule because it made sense in their minds. Like when I hit the ball when I was out of bounds. That is when I realized I couldn’t play this game for real. I just had to relax and play. No score, just laughing.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">A lot was learned about the German people during this time. I was having fun smack talking, cause that is what you do :) Half the fun of the game. Well I decided I wanted to learn to smack talk in German. Apparently Germans don’t really smack talk, or don’t understand the concept of what I was trying to do. Which I just don’t get. Have you ever seen a German at a soccer game?? The competition is there. So the smack talking should be as well, right? Sadly I didn’t learn how to smack talk in German. Still on my list of things to do, but it was just going to have to wait for another day.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">After this long day of running around and playing in sand, all I wanted was a shower.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I was about to break down and deal with communal shower issues. Then my lovely American friend Erika informed me that she found individual showers on the bottom floor! Oh bless her soul!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Feeling clean, it was off to the dance! If you have been following the blog, you will remember when I talked about how odd the dances here were and I didn’t know how I felt about them. I LOVE THEM NOW!!!! I pretty much have the disco fox down, and I learned that when I was confuse and wondering why I couldn’t figure it out and what was wrong with me… It was the guys who couldn’t keep a beat. Now to find a guy back home that can disco fox….. hmmm…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The next day was mostly just to ourselves and enjoying the city. All the sleeping on a cold floor had gotten to me. I was starting to get sick. All I wanted was a Mcflurry. So I got me one :) Tony was smart enough not to argue with me when I was sick, and instead just would tell me when I was being grumpy.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I avoided some people cause I knew I was too grumpy to be around people.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Then it was off to dinner and another dance. I was feeling a bit more sick, and knew it was going to get worse. You know when that happens? When you just know it is going to be a bad one? Well I decided to take the defense. I talked to my friend Esther and she found two guys to give me a blessing. Funny thing… It was in German :) I was able to catch a few words here and there, but that didn’t matter. It is really amazing that the Spirit has no language. I felt the Spirit so strong and knew everything was going to be ok. Esther translated some of it for me after and it was great. No I didn’t magically get better, but I started feeling better, and it wasn’t that bad. I felt fine, just had the sniffles for a while. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This brings us to our last day there. Sunday. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We just had sacrament and I somehow managed to end up at the stand to bear my testimony. Before I went up I had Esther translate some things I didn’t know how to say so I could bear my testimony. I have NEVER been that scared in my life to bear my testimony. I started in English, and then went to start my testimony and got to “I would like…” then realized I didn’t ask how to say bear my testimony. Typical. Oh well. I kinda just blurted out something like “ooops, I don’t know how to say bear my testimony in German” and someone behind me said it, but I couldn’t understand. I was still freaking out a bit. So I just kinda mumbled nothing and people chuckled and forgave me. I then said my testimony in German, the little paper in my hand shaking like mad, but I did it :) I still feel rather proud of that.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Then it was time for goodbyes. I didn’t like that part so much. But now I have reasons to go to some of the places I should see. Esther lives in Austria where Sound of Music was filmed, and she says it looks just the same, so I will need to come and visit her down there for my sound of music tour :)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Honestly I am really glad I went. I almost didn’t go, and I would have been missing out on a lot if I had stayed home.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I also was told once I got home that Leipzig is where my Grandpa was born :) that makes me so happy!!! Brings new meaning to ‘The Fatherland’ ;)</span></p></span></span></div>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-44456741050936438842010-04-23T12:31:00.000-07:002010-04-23T12:50:51.794-07:00Ah memories :)I have been taking lovely strolls down memory lane recently. It is the little things that trigger it. The flowers are blooming and the... I don't know what type of trees they are ACTUALLY called... The popcorn trees though, they bring back some good times. Picking them off of the tree in the back yard, picking them on Mothers Day, then walking down the road and getting lilacs to go with them to give to my mommy and Nana.<div><br /></div><div>Then there are things like the smell of Jack Daniels BBQ sauce. I LOVE THAT SMELL! No, it is not the same as flowers, but divine all the same. Brings back memories of midnight meals with Nat, where we I made the chicken or steak, she made the mashed potatoes, and we would dip the meat into the Jack Daniels. Yum!</div><div><br /></div><div>I am currently melting chocolate, which reminds me of the time where Frieda and I melted chocolate on a plate, and since it was hot we did the only thing sensible to two kids. We threw it around like a frisbee. I don't remember eating it (Since we kept dropping it and putting our fingers in it. It was a frisbee after all), but Fred is convinced we did.</div><div><br /></div><div>Each and every time I go shopping and try on something new, I just about leave the dressing room to ask my sisters/friends who are like sisters, what they think about it. Then I hear the people next to me chattering along in German and I remember that they are not out there.</div><div><br /></div><div>Right now I am in the process of making chocolate chip cookies, which always reminds me of cooking with Jenn. I remember making them all the time at her house, and ever remember the time I made it with a tablespoon of salt instead of a teaspoon. I threw it out before Jenn got back (I think this was one of the times I kicked her out of the house and told her to go have a date while I watched the kids).</div><div><br /></div><div>The song 'Low' just came on, and while it is not the best song, it still brings up memories. It is the song that they were playing on the boat the first time I really went wake boarding. Apparently it was the perfect song. I got up my very fist time. I still feel rather proud of that fact.</div><div><br /></div><div>And it seems that the song "Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy" has been coming on my ipod more often recently. This song will ALWAYS remind me of riding around in the jeep. My brother would drive me to school sometimes, and when this song would come on, we would crank it up and sing along. And when he was on his honeymoon and I was watching his jeep for him, I always would make sure to play this song at least once. It was just what you did in the jeep. That song and Incubus's "Warning". Perfect song for that sound system!</div><div><br /></div><div>There are just so many tiny little things that remind me of people. Things that they probably don't remember and if I explained what that little thing meant to me, it would probably shock them. So just remember, it is really about the little things and that you never know what effect something small you do can do to a person. Make it something good :)</div>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-35831366034845728082010-04-04T11:04:00.000-07:002010-04-04T11:27:14.675-07:00Easter Sunday and what it means to me.Recently I have been very reminiscent, and with it being Easter and Conference weekend I decided to do something I don't normally do. Generally I have a decently strict rule of not sharing too much of my emotions or my life on my blog. I usually try and stick to things about my trip and what I want to make sure to remember. Today I am going to share more of me here. It is Easter, and today means more to me than colored eggs and candy (don't get me wrong, I LOVE those, but there is more.)<div><br /></div><div>The last few weeks I have been struggling with homesickness. I have come to realize even more how much I love my family. All of them. From my sisters (and a cousin who is like a sister to me) who laugh with me at all hours of the night, my parents who always love and support me. My niece who now can say my name and anytime she sees the computer says it. Brothers who, once you have gotten comfortable on the couch after Thanksgiving dinner, will pounce on top of you. A little brother who is easily my favorite punching bag of all time :) My family in Washington, I still remember making Isaak's Birthday cake on the grill and cuddling up together cause the power was knocked out for days. My Grandparents are some of the most amazing people you will ever meet. The things they have done and been through never fails to amaze me. Along with my biological family, I miss my friends who are like family to me. You all know who you are, you are the ones that are there for me when I am happy or grumpy. Smiling or crying. Just like my biological family is. So remember, no matter where I am in the world, I love you.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I mentioned it is conference weekend. One of my favorite times of the year. Not only do I get to be spiritually uplifted by the words of a living prophet, I have lasting memories from this. I still remember growing up and watching this at Nana's house in Cedar Fort. No idea why, but they let me, D.Jay, Jace, ShaNeil, and Cale watch conference alone in the basement. One of the years we got candy from the Country Store and were watching it while playing a game of poker with the candy. Yes, I see the irony behind it all. Another year, we played hiding-go-seek with the volume on the TV really loud. Granted I probably didn't learn a whole lot these times from conference, but I have some lasting memories with me little brother and cousins that make me laugh when I think about it.</div><div><br /></div><div>On this lovely Easter Sunday, I also want to reflect on all my Savior has done for me. While I may not have memories with him in them exactly like the ones I have mentioned above, I have felt him in my life. There have been times when I felt like everything was falling apart and I didn't know what I was going to do. He was there for me. There were times where I just needed extra love, He sent it to me. There is no doubt in my mind that Christ lives. He is there for us, and he loves us. </div><div><br /></div><div>I know that there are probably some people out there laughing at this. Or think that there must me something wrong with me. It makes me sad to see when people don't have the love of Christ in their lives. I don't know what I would do without it. It is the most amazing thing, and I want to shout it out to everyone! For now I will just have to settle for whoever reads this blog. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and I love it. I love my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, and know that they love me as well. I hope you all have an amazing Easter and that you remember what we are celebrating. Mathew 28:6- He is not here, He is risen.</div>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-36751208927375529692010-03-31T11:31:00.000-07:002010-03-31T12:11:11.731-07:00Sunday in Berlin. Best part of the trip!!!<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><br /></u></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQrtXbyM1TipcyDMYBV6hVvr7rSVD_SCqE3-M0g2xEsLr8XKhovD5AyQopynDHC3730DCGG8Uk-6NWVkEpjM-379pQdVL30p-iNTifLH7cDTQZZsjeWqL5P3LYdfW-i5wfvQ_6A2K6kc_H/s1600/DSCI0190.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQrtXbyM1TipcyDMYBV6hVvr7rSVD_SCqE3-M0g2xEsLr8XKhovD5AyQopynDHC3730DCGG8Uk-6NWVkEpjM-379pQdVL30p-iNTifLH7cDTQZZsjeWqL5P3LYdfW-i5wfvQ_6A2K6kc_H/s320/DSCI0190.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454871385679321346" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; ">(I still have no idea what this sign is trying to tell me not to do...)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; ">This is the last part of my trip?? I feel so accomplished! I haven't even been back a week yet! Paris took me like a month to write! This was my favorite day though. This is my Sunday in Berlin. In my other blog I mentioned my Grandpa's cousin and his story in Berlin. In his book he mentions the name of the ward where he was married. While doing my research I discovered that there is still a ward by that name. Could it really be the same one or the same place? Only one way to find out. So putting on my new shoes I bought in Berlin (How could I not buy them? They were the last pair, my size, and on an insanely great sale.), and dodging past the drunks who were still out partying. The clubs were still blaring music, and I was on my way to church :) I kinda stuck out, but I am getting more and more use to it.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I managed to find my way to the stop I wanted no issues. I was pretty sure I was walking the right way, but wasn't sure. Then I saw it. It was like my first Sunday in Frankfurt all over again. I was so happy to see the church. Before I walked in I took a deep breath ready to brace myself. I didn't want to get my hopes up too high in case it wasn't the same church. I made it to the chapel and was about ready to cry. It was the exact church. Same light fixture, same everything. No doubt in my mind, this was the church Herbert married his sweetheart in on September 28th,1951. That moment right there, made my whole trip. That was my highlight. I got a picture of the chapel and tried to take a picture of the original I have. I know it is hard to make out, but look and you can see it.</span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><br /></u></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQrtXbyM1TipcyDMYBV6hVvr7rSVD_SCqE3-M0g2xEsLr8XKhovD5AyQopynDHC3730DCGG8Uk-6NWVkEpjM-379pQdVL30p-iNTifLH7cDTQZZsjeWqL5P3LYdfW-i5wfvQ_6A2K6kc_H/s1600/DSCI0190.JPG"><br /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWO1YzQw4Qgq4j-x9uTSUduj9rAAvzfwQhefH0xys8f2V-1nIurgI-1BTt3OGxGSod8XPBMqKQNlmKLlazAjokK61jzWGJSJz2cPWzOBBL_taPX94C_7Fcum1LN2FmA3y8ezkUabCmMkU/s1600/DSCI0197.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWO1YzQw4Qgq4j-x9uTSUduj9rAAvzfwQhefH0xys8f2V-1nIurgI-1BTt3OGxGSod8XPBMqKQNlmKLlazAjokK61jzWGJSJz2cPWzOBBL_taPX94C_7Fcum1LN2FmA3y8ezkUabCmMkU/s320/DSCI0197.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454871368652517106" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1fcMCN8ZW-JfFQqdVeWyBrMM0ZQ-mr8xEfcz6G58cfnUwCEfyjCAsvXxmKy7PAy6cLw_XMqkIdB3O_V2xT_5KUCS6p9lhxLSFA7WuDYkm7kPt52Qg1iS06f2F1GU9lLM7bp0wIiGT9v9/s1600/DSCI0187.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1fcMCN8ZW-JfFQqdVeWyBrMM0ZQ-mr8xEfcz6G58cfnUwCEfyjCAsvXxmKy7PAy6cLw_XMqkIdB3O_V2xT_5KUCS6p9lhxLSFA7WuDYkm7kPt52Qg1iS06f2F1GU9lLM7bp0wIiGT9v9/s320/DSCI0187.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454871352419214306" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDxq4IHzL6Pi1PqNSKkF8apdh0yathifn5Im53qe7CkDR9j4R04fzRwWUSvqXJNBvWshFI7djhfS77exHGV_a25bPNhvr-AWr8dqXTwaWvZT_aHv0fsll2ZUFuIyVR5fJrACwSooJ6_2E/s1600/DSCI0186.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDxq4IHzL6Pi1PqNSKkF8apdh0yathifn5Im53qe7CkDR9j4R04fzRwWUSvqXJNBvWshFI7djhfS77exHGV_a25bPNhvr-AWr8dqXTwaWvZT_aHv0fsll2ZUFuIyVR5fJrACwSooJ6_2E/s320/DSCI0186.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454871341193229218" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Amazing. Relief Society was first, and somehow I managed to sit in the section with other English speakers. I had no idea, then I realized I could understand them and was amazed. After that I go to the single adults class, and my world gets smaller. I am introduced to Christina. She is an au pair from the US too! Imagine that. This is how the conversation went.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> "Hey were are you from?" </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">"I am from Utah, where are you from?"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">"Washington."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">"Oh really what part?"<br />"Seattle area."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">"Hey I lived there for a while too, which part?"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">"Widbey Island."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Now, for those of you who don't know, when I was living in Provo I adopted me a little brother. He is from a little island in Washington called Widbey Island. The conversation continues with me asking "Do you know Sam Parker?"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">She stares at me in disbelief and just responds with a "You are kidding me!? He is like a brother to me!!" So there I was, standing in a church where in 1951 someone in my family history was married, talking to a girl that knew one of my favorite people ever! Small little Mormon world. I LOVE IT!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxs7EFHerxfMU1u6JHHavATY-qJ5Rus5K2wtgGu2OS_ojMmVB4pi-CLcxycbFJCJZ0iHXp_HiMo83bRSu8-Qr0vdorEspLFeDmx_4Ei9jeVx8onzqF1BUiVi_I87FoE4Xbp6OLfm78TUvM/s1600/DSCI0188.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxs7EFHerxfMU1u6JHHavATY-qJ5Rus5K2wtgGu2OS_ojMmVB4pi-CLcxycbFJCJZ0iHXp_HiMo83bRSu8-Qr0vdorEspLFeDmx_4Ei9jeVx8onzqF1BUiVi_I87FoE4Xbp6OLfm78TUvM/s320/DSCI0188.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454871377731572434" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWO1YzQw4Qgq4j-x9uTSUduj9rAAvzfwQhefH0xys8f2V-1nIurgI-1BTt3OGxGSod8XPBMqKQNlmKLlazAjokK61jzWGJSJz2cPWzOBBL_taPX94C_7Fcum1LN2FmA3y8ezkUabCmMkU/s1600/DSCI0197.JPG"></a></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWO1YzQw4Qgq4j-x9uTSUduj9rAAvzfwQhefH0xys8f2V-1nIurgI-1BTt3OGxGSod8XPBMqKQNlmKLlazAjokK61jzWGJSJz2cPWzOBBL_taPX94C_7Fcum1LN2FmA3y8ezkUabCmMkU/s1600/DSCI0197.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWO1YzQw4Qgq4j-x9uTSUduj9rAAvzfwQhefH0xys8f2V-1nIurgI-1BTt3OGxGSod8XPBMqKQNlmKLlazAjokK61jzWGJSJz2cPWzOBBL_taPX94C_7Fcum1LN2FmA3y8ezkUabCmMkU/s1600/DSCI0197.JPG"></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Her and I had a lot of fun talking and being shocked. I really wish she lived closer to me, what is with me and making friends who don't live by me?! Oh well, I figure I will run into her again somewhere random. Seattle, Provo, Barcelona, who knows?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">After that I went to the Rathaus Schoeneberg, which was the other place that Herbert might have been married. The picture I have of their wedding day is hard to make out, but without a doubt this is the wrong place. It was still worth the shop. There was a swap meet going on and they had massive amounts of books! I was looking for an old copy of Grimm Fairytales, since I have now started a collection of them. While I was looking the guy selling them just kept repeating "one euro, books are one euro" In German to all of us looking through the books. I didn't see any Grimms books, so I decided to ask him. I had no idea how to even start that one so I asked in English. He said he didn't think they did so I then just told him that I wanted the two books in my hand. "Five euro" was what he said to me. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Hearing that load of crap come out of his mouth, I put on my nanny face. The face I use when a kid lies to me and I know it. And by my face they know they screwed up as well. "Didn't you just say that all of these books are one euro?" You little twerp! Just because I can't speak German doesn't mean I can't understand it! A little flustered he comes up with an excuse fast. "Oh, uh, um that is the old price I am sorry, we just changed the prices I must have forgotten." Uh huh. Right. Two seconds ago I thought the only thing you knew how to say in German was "one Euro". I gave him another nanny look, this one being the 'Lie to me again and we will have issues'. I gave him two euro and walked off. Yeah I probably should have told him to give me both of them for one euro for him being a butt face, but I didn't want to deal with it. At least I didn't pay what he asked. Honestly people!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">After that I headed back to Annette's place and we headed out to the train station. I honestly had such a blast with her! Talking over breakfast about what it was like growing up on the East side of Berlin, and a lot of the history in Berlin. We also had some fun chats about music and how much she liked American music because she didn't understand the words. She always made sure I was fed and even spoiled me with strawberries with Italian whipped topping. YUM! She was great and I loved it! My train was just about to come and I wanted to get some food, and then I realized that all I had was my cards, no cash. Crap. Oh well. I can survive, no worries Annette I am fine. She wouldn't stand for that. My train was just about to pull into the station, and she races off and buys me a delish little sandwich and gets there right as my train pulls in. It was so sweet and I feel so blessed to have met her and become her friend!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXc_BoZlckUs9TYOLVPTtUIEjb-WD9uSSP41PzT7rvVhU9FGSY1G3FiqwaESXg76X_ULfgHvQmXssfwZ_6Cx5ecBCxkz8p0JsW7p3oCMDITyqW2E0bdWOSZ51K-aRnAOR1054KXqPySd42/s1600/anette.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXc_BoZlckUs9TYOLVPTtUIEjb-WD9uSSP41PzT7rvVhU9FGSY1G3FiqwaESXg76X_ULfgHvQmXssfwZ_6Cx5ecBCxkz8p0JsW7p3oCMDITyqW2E0bdWOSZ51K-aRnAOR1054KXqPySd42/s320/anette.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454875389057997970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQrtXbyM1TipcyDMYBV6hVvr7rSVD_SCqE3-M0g2xEsLr8XKhovD5AyQopynDHC3730DCGG8Uk-6NWVkEpjM-379pQdVL30p-iNTifLH7cDTQZZsjeWqL5P3LYdfW-i5wfvQ_6A2K6kc_H/s1600/DSCI0190.JPG"></a></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQrtXbyM1TipcyDMYBV6hVvr7rSVD_SCqE3-M0g2xEsLr8XKhovD5AyQopynDHC3730DCGG8Uk-6NWVkEpjM-379pQdVL30p-iNTifLH7cDTQZZsjeWqL5P3LYdfW-i5wfvQ_6A2K6kc_H/s1600/DSCI0190.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQrtXbyM1TipcyDMYBV6hVvr7rSVD_SCqE3-M0g2xEsLr8XKhovD5AyQopynDHC3730DCGG8Uk-6NWVkEpjM-379pQdVL30p-iNTifLH7cDTQZZsjeWqL5P3LYdfW-i5wfvQ_6A2K6kc_H/s1600/DSCI0190.JPG"></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">That is about where my adventure ends. I rode the train home, got stuck waiting 45 minutes for the train in Frankfurt to take me home. I watched How I Met Your Mother, which made me look totally insane. I can't help but laugh a lot at that show, and since my headphones were on listening to it everyone else around me had no idea why I was laugh. Oh well. Laughed a lot anyways :) Let them laugh at the crazy American. Seems to be the theme of my life!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-49083346475815805642010-03-31T10:42:00.000-07:002010-03-31T11:31:29.530-07:00The nerd in me comes out even more...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LcZWmhZgarhyP6SLtH10aeWcm8PdBwQkEWD7xW7bLjJN1uZq2NKgwjqG_jldCTaSAfE0AwCe5oT9zzR0SzoXFZD5WjXWWKgCecEWDE9KFA8SgVi0ogmMLGqeT5BW3XtDZRLLpj2hQQ3q/s1600/DSCI0115.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LcZWmhZgarhyP6SLtH10aeWcm8PdBwQkEWD7xW7bLjJN1uZq2NKgwjqG_jldCTaSAfE0AwCe5oT9zzR0SzoXFZD5WjXWWKgCecEWDE9KFA8SgVi0ogmMLGqeT5BW3XtDZRLLpj2hQQ3q/s320/DSCI0115.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454855656479038418" /></a><br />Now I realize you don't know this, but all of the stories here are very jumbled. My mind has been jumping all over this trip, so there are a lot of things that happened the first day that will get told here, and a lot of things that happened Saturday that I made it look like happened on Friday. Best part about this? I am the only one who knows what happened when! MWAHAHAHA!!! Back to Berlin.... Saturday was a really fun day. I had seen just about everything I had planned on seeing. It is amazing how much faster the scooter is apposed to walking :)<div>The first place I wanted to see was the Jewish Museum. I was sort of expecting something like the Holocaust Museum in D.C. (which is amazing by the way). Instead what I got was a history of the Jewish people with a tiny bit dedicated to the ones killed in the Holocaust. I was really kinda disappointed by this actually. I think I would have found it interesting if I didn't go in with the expectations I had. About the only exciting thing that happened here is that they found the knife in my bag... ooops... forgot about it. They took it and I picked it up when I was done. Wooo.... excitement. </div><div><br /></div><div>At this point I was a little annoyed, I was so looking forward to this! Oh well. I decided to go and find some lunch, but apparently nothing really opens until 4. Really?? Do people in Berlin not eat lunch? Finally I found a little bakery that had food. I decided I was going to try and use my German and not try to rely so much on my English. I was doing decent until I got flustered and the girl didn't want to deal with it. She wasn't rude, but you could tell that she didn't want to be the one that this little American girl used her awful German on. So it became more of a point and say thank you conversation. Suck. I then went to this lovely bench and ate my food </div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS5V3F0d5mOF56fw1laHrC_KD9d5jPu-owqRxoCdzCKwECytvwmGqM8xVTVjZHBIwM7a0OTwJr-OjfXcul6qkjiPe6T6gdcUdw6Ms7YCU-cgq6YfaNLZPkjGblxMqgxvDdMl4en2CUSEDl/s1600/bench.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS5V3F0d5mOF56fw1laHrC_KD9d5jPu-owqRxoCdzCKwECytvwmGqM8xVTVjZHBIwM7a0OTwJr-OjfXcul6qkjiPe6T6gdcUdw6Ms7YCU-cgq6YfaNLZPkjGblxMqgxvDdMl4en2CUSEDl/s320/bench.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454858386001275714" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a>Now I know to most of you this just seems like just another bench. And well... I guess it is. There is a little more to it for me though. Before I came to Germany my Grandpa Ludwig sent me a copy of his first cousins life story. His name was Herbert Kurt Ludwig, and while I don't think I ever met him, because of reading his story I felt extremely close to him. The first girl he kissed ended up being the last one he kissed as well. He kissed her and then later proposed to her on a bench in a park in Berlin. In the book there is a picture of the bench, but try as I might, I couldn't find the actual original bench. It is a very bad picture and it was also taken over 50 years ago. Luckily for me, I have an amazing imagination. This bench fit all the criteria he talked about. It is in Berlin, just down the way from a train station, and it kinda looks like the same place. I know I might sound crazy, but I really enjoyed pretending that this was their bench.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LcZWmhZgarhyP6SLtH10aeWcm8PdBwQkEWD7xW7bLjJN1uZq2NKgwjqG_jldCTaSAfE0AwCe5oT9zzR0SzoXFZD5WjXWWKgCecEWDE9KFA8SgVi0ogmMLGqeT5BW3XtDZRLLpj2hQQ3q/s1600/DSCI0115.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LcZWmhZgarhyP6SLtH10aeWcm8PdBwQkEWD7xW7bLjJN1uZq2NKgwjqG_jldCTaSAfE0AwCe5oT9zzR0SzoXFZD5WjXWWKgCecEWDE9KFA8SgVi0ogmMLGqeT5BW3XtDZRLLpj2hQQ3q/s1600/DSCI0115.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LcZWmhZgarhyP6SLtH10aeWcm8PdBwQkEWD7xW7bLjJN1uZq2NKgwjqG_jldCTaSAfE0AwCe5oT9zzR0SzoXFZD5WjXWWKgCecEWDE9KFA8SgVi0ogmMLGqeT5BW3XtDZRLLpj2hQQ3q/s1600/DSCI0115.JPG"></a><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglL1rEKnIbbVorDJwJfTrfLyoDUFJv9C5dEnKa_QJ02Rk7WzzHX7_qRw-sBCVZ3fj7cK8Vv42a6MrYwgGFZIEFY6IeZHfLlICy4jzwxJcMMTP2reV1fCaeImnwNV5Pm5GWrkBlzLlCHDC7/s1600/DSCI0168.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglL1rEKnIbbVorDJwJfTrfLyoDUFJv9C5dEnKa_QJ02Rk7WzzHX7_qRw-sBCVZ3fj7cK8Vv42a6MrYwgGFZIEFY6IeZHfLlICy4jzwxJcMMTP2reV1fCaeImnwNV5Pm5GWrkBlzLlCHDC7/s320/DSCI0168.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454856315600771026" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a>This is th<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Rotes Rathaus, which I am almost confident was where Herbert was married. The church didn't have the authority to marry them in Germany at this point, and so they were married in the town hall and then had a ceremony in the LDS chapel. The picture of their wedding day is really hard to make out, but I am pretty sure this is the place. The other place that was an option as well I check out too. It is most definitely not the place. So I choose to think this is where they were married :) </span></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ9uGScs6rrr2HUAwYrMQ2nCtUA1HDtDAl-EPrs_Cu9H5TF6Z2lSs2T2tYIJPJYtJGa0VcuCPjHze6HmRgV1kBa1HPMbYETQflggRVUMV4zqlQ3y9h58mf3CCYWCurrjiUA9geLAiVEtj6/s1600/DSCI0124.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ9uGScs6rrr2HUAwYrMQ2nCtUA1HDtDAl-EPrs_Cu9H5TF6Z2lSs2T2tYIJPJYtJGa0VcuCPjHze6HmRgV1kBa1HPMbYETQflggRVUMV4zqlQ3y9h58mf3CCYWCurrjiUA9geLAiVEtj6/s320/DSCI0124.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454856314566852770" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a>This picture right here makes me laugh. I was kind of at the point of... what do I do now? So I decided to take some fun pictures. I set up the shot, set the time, ran to the other side and hopped up, then realized I was being watch and started to laugh. They did too and said something in German and carried on their merry little way. Just another crazy American in Berlin.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next set of pictures has a common theme that is really easy to pick out :) Before I left Natalie and I were laughing and saying how I should take an army man with me and take pictures with him all the places I go. Well we never found one before I left but a few days before heading to Berlin, I got a package from Nat. With this army man in it. So here are his adventures in Berlin (I feel like he needs a name. Suggestions are welcome).</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLc1oMcjg1FH4aVeeaJGccD_TqJczoKbTRe6Wc3Yfg2mSA69g785fEKqTqUkcaOc2fsjB_cILo_oAPc16GwIeuLPvxLgMPaUKQS7UsP0l2NlAt3-tT1JK9owWjZ0MmJrm3mr_GNClCUlv/s1600/DSCI0117.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLc1oMcjg1FH4aVeeaJGccD_TqJczoKbTRe6Wc3Yfg2mSA69g785fEKqTqUkcaOc2fsjB_cILo_oAPc16GwIeuLPvxLgMPaUKQS7UsP0l2NlAt3-tT1JK9owWjZ0MmJrm3mr_GNClCUlv/s320/DSCI0117.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454856302715615106" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRiUEfW_-8PAPIkkVHsa8gOnhMDiEcx8BsN-gobWr0YRMdeLMxcckn5uUDBM7ug2ZLMTo0VdPL5rDBGxsKcn8CpcaXao4C6jqFl-pVlgQBTMFVLk-vCcSv-24_gupcqfzH0TeGWcgygwHu/s1600/DSCI0090.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRiUEfW_-8PAPIkkVHsa8gOnhMDiEcx8BsN-gobWr0YRMdeLMxcckn5uUDBM7ug2ZLMTo0VdPL5rDBGxsKcn8CpcaXao4C6jqFl-pVlgQBTMFVLk-vCcSv-24_gupcqfzH0TeGWcgygwHu/s320/DSCI0090.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454855678873678530" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0dv9JPUodydUfHjPc69tRrbHq3cShyphenhyphen_8s77Lxv4alrVF-aY9eFEbz7tOpDpO4r1Lhedqzrx6fExj83ER3VvVczztxUva3dITdi5wD_eY8vPl7NXFq_bkPUAwbU1knIaYtYUczXIcPAtJv/s1600/DSCI0082.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0dv9JPUodydUfHjPc69tRrbHq3cShyphenhyphen_8s77Lxv4alrVF-aY9eFEbz7tOpDpO4r1Lhedqzrx6fExj83ER3VvVczztxUva3dITdi5wD_eY8vPl7NXFq_bkPUAwbU1knIaYtYUczXIcPAtJv/s320/DSCI0082.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454855667819480242" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a>While in Berlin I went to the Memorial for the killed Jews. I don't understand the significance of the layout or the style... It was interesting but I didn't understand so it didn't really do much for me. Underneath this is a different story. There is a museum underneath filled with a lot of quotes and excerpts from letters. It is amazing to see how much fear can be held in a letter still over...60+ years after it being written? The end is what got to me the most. There is a room that is dimly lit, and on the wall a name comes up. Then you hear the story about this person. 2 year old, killed by the Nazi's at Auschwitz. 47 year old, specifics pertaining to his death unknown. It just keeps going and going. Some survive, most die. Some survive the concentration camps, only to die a few days after liberation. It was really hard to stay in there for too long. So much sadness.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlNkYBPvOQYyPYns6f1a1oM5dLAY9KcsbGLn70TycvvAyv045pZIRJqV9oQ4L00COY7owJw0OGeZOdy-WLW0L1MdZAFQe7CacWxHW4lo8cEuOs2imi9FJqRjEgbF8-_o-O7wSan91bXbiV/s1600/DSCI0081.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlNkYBPvOQYyPYns6f1a1oM5dLAY9KcsbGLn70TycvvAyv045pZIRJqV9oQ4L00COY7owJw0OGeZOdy-WLW0L1MdZAFQe7CacWxHW4lo8cEuOs2imi9FJqRjEgbF8-_o-O7wSan91bXbiV/s320/DSCI0081.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454855663179903570" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">There were a lot of little things in the city that remind people about what happened, in hopes I guess of it never happening again. The first quote I read in the Memorial to the killed Jews was "It happened, therefore it can happen again. This is the cor of what we have to say" by Primo Levi. In the city there are "stumbling stones", and on these stones there are names of people killed in the Holocaust and how they died. Just simple, to the point, a reminder to never let it happen again.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnEjTon1SlOlp7GUW0u9xV6_DrhP_UjPWm-DzJpCJ-pfYSXsnyPyaEJtgoYcDgKMxF1OHtCKD22EOYMy64zrLIcdQ1aZfKJSEEWZr43QJ1YYH7gz7t8WeTPqmRAHf7SEfU1VPkjPVWoC6j/s1600/DSCI0091.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnEjTon1SlOlp7GUW0u9xV6_DrhP_UjPWm-DzJpCJ-pfYSXsnyPyaEJtgoYcDgKMxF1OHtCKD22EOYMy64zrLIcdQ1aZfKJSEEWZr43QJ1YYH7gz7t8WeTPqmRAHf7SEfU1VPkjPVWoC6j/s320/DSCI0091.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454863639438360546" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a>These are the stumbling stones I found. It is amazing to me how many people have no idea that they are even there. Few people noticed it. Just kept walking. Not knowing what they were passing. It was odd to see. I was annoyed with people and just wanted to shout at them to look. But I have a feeling that would not go over. People already thought I was insane walking around with my board :)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LcZWmhZgarhyP6SLtH10aeWcm8PdBwQkEWD7xW7bLjJN1uZq2NKgwjqG_jldCTaSAfE0AwCe5oT9zzR0SzoXFZD5WjXWWKgCecEWDE9KFA8SgVi0ogmMLGqeT5BW3XtDZRLLpj2hQQ3q/s1600/DSCI0115.JPG"></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">One thing that really made me laugh in Berlin, was how many guys would try and hit on me, which threw me off, and then I would reply that I don't speak German, which would then throw them off. Needless to say it was just a lot of awkward hitting on. It made me laugh every time, but I am starting to wonder if I should get me a shirt that says "Don't hit on me in German. It is useless" just because then I could laugh at the random pick up lines people use. Those are still my favorites in case you were wondering. They make me laugh and boy do I have some fun stories because of them!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7zX_2l3IKnNrrdMDpjat9KBcXUJyKn8ZWC39U78CbNHQMG8UOPS4EZUaGmHtp34Dfor-jsxEtTB9qs_AEQTpBZ4YmuDDZfqzIXt2lPEp4dMaPfzIb_gz_i6WtnCaDaXUFPtGWhayUPIFQ/s1600/DSCI0094.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7zX_2l3IKnNrrdMDpjat9KBcXUJyKn8ZWC39U78CbNHQMG8UOPS4EZUaGmHtp34Dfor-jsxEtTB9qs_AEQTpBZ4YmuDDZfqzIXt2lPEp4dMaPfzIb_gz_i6WtnCaDaXUFPtGWhayUPIFQ/s320/DSCI0094.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454855691240412514" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRiUEfW_-8PAPIkkVHsa8gOnhMDiEcx8BsN-gobWr0YRMdeLMxcckn5uUDBM7ug2ZLMTo0VdPL5rDBGxsKcn8CpcaXao4C6jqFl-pVlgQBTMFVLk-vCcSv-24_gupcqfzH0TeGWcgygwHu/s1600/DSCI0090.JPG"></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">One of the highlights of my day was when I got on the train. All of the sudden a band started playing! Just a kind of fun jazzy kind of band. I really just wanted to start doing swing dance right there in the middle of the S train. Being partnerless I decided against it. I just enjoyed it. They played between one stop and the next, and as soon as we stopped, so did they. I saw random people throughout the day getting on and off of the trains, a group of them with instruments. They seriously made me happy! I am pretty confident that they were just there to make people happy. There wasn't much time to collect change, so in my thought process, they did it to bring a smile to people's faces, which they succeeded with.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">After a long day of site seeing and shopping, I decided to drop everything off and just board around. It was a great time! Other than the times I would hit the cobblestone wrong and would all of the sudden be forced with figuring out how to deal with the sudden lack of board under my feet. Have I mentioned how much I hate cobblestone?? Cause I do. They are awful and should all be dug up and replaced (yes they are pretty, but not fun in the least bit to skate on).</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">During my skate, I skated along the East Side Gallery, which is the longest piece of wall that is still standing. I was here the day before on the scooter and took pictures... check out the blog before this one if you have no idea what I am talking about :) It was really fun, I WAS SKATING NEXT TO THE BERLIN WALL!!! The little nerd in me that I usually try and keep repressed had way too much fun with this and can't be contained while I tell this! I was fantastic!!! Ok... I think I got the nerd in check now.</div></div><div><br /></div>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-82426490546100841842010-03-28T13:40:00.000-07:002010-03-31T10:42:53.884-07:00A whole lot of Pictures of Berlin...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPPjEjXc2G_pSMSPgX7J0GuC178pbjw_JSbDtKhinf8xwaAlqycGIecHreTXGGGnfjKpGqIL78IW-KtPDYKDrB5FDsJZqiMdC2VhXd0vuS5o3_eqtktJ4R4h0BzMX41JVsjwFN-LAMDabM/s1600/DSCI0013.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPPjEjXc2G_pSMSPgX7J0GuC178pbjw_JSbDtKhinf8xwaAlqycGIecHreTXGGGnfjKpGqIL78IW-KtPDYKDrB5FDsJZqiMdC2VhXd0vuS5o3_eqtktJ4R4h0BzMX41JVsjwFN-LAMDabM/s320/DSCI0013.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453789202642914226" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>The trip started with a very normal train ride there. Sadly no new friends like with my trip to Paris. All I got was a very grumpy German woman who tried to tell me I was in her seat, in German. Since I didn’t really know what she was saying I told her I don’t speak German, in German. So what does she do? She speaks louder and faster. Yeah. That is going to work. Luckily for her someone leaned over and told me what Grumpy woman was saying.</i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>When I finally got to Berlin,</i></b></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i> </i></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>I met up with my friend Annette.</i></b></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i> </i></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>Side note for my Mom-When I told you where I was staying was a long story… here is the story. I met Annette online on a site called couchsurfing.com.</i></b></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i> </i></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>How it works is that I find people on this site in the city who have a couch that I can crash on, and ask if they will let me stay. We hang out, get to know each other and have a fun multi-culture experience. Mom, for some reason I decided not to tell you this. Turns out that was the best since I got a call later from you worried about me. You would have flipped if I told you where I was staying. No worries. I am safe.</i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>Annette was amazing! She took great care of me, making sure I ate and was all set for bed. He couch was more comfortable and bigger than my bed in Frankfurt, so I had no complaints. The next morning, after a leisurely breakfast of bread and nutella, she took me out on her scooter for a tour of Berlin. It was really fun! We drove past the largest still standing portion of the Berlin wall. Lucky for me they had just repainted it. They I guess are going to do that every 10 years. There was some cool artwork on it. How cool would that be to be one of the people selected to be allowed to paint on THE Berlin wall. Crazy. Below is a video I took while on the back of the scooter. I could have sworn that I was holding the camera more steady :)</i></b></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzNdn-1B8U-EuPG1HaPyH2ttoQzvkTH6DxohM7MQPQpsOGmDRXFu6WeAtsiP3pad9ERSvnnHgs17VmEqw8RVA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></i></b></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQjtTn7GcBgg-MNAhpVZG5OMQYyV530kfIC1iKYmpxYbjLQr3q1L2Aggcc5i09ShFjOR6jQfekPyy_P6goyWAnNgiR0LiALYCDYkKGZ5rlOh8tnBmfI9dERaeCgYE_9-9rpwSGh8xu2tLZ/s1600/DSCI0021.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQjtTn7GcBgg-MNAhpVZG5OMQYyV530kfIC1iKYmpxYbjLQr3q1L2Aggcc5i09ShFjOR6jQfekPyy_P6goyWAnNgiR0LiALYCDYkKGZ5rlOh8tnBmfI9dERaeCgYE_9-9rpwSGh8xu2tLZ/s320/DSCI0021.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453789214044379234" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>Apparently this is one of the most famous/widely known pictures on the wall. So here ya go :)</i></b></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8neukpUxMmAm_JYDm2SYmTw8-xpR1R6hDSdgmNNiDPc1wslJ8HkszZwmYktDgvYEVVMm16y1FHz3M0DlrUy4T2jKw1gE5njPQ09Gp4xt5JbvkPPhTTiVZ5yznfx5RgAAnLCf9C8QurFyi/s1600/DSCI0014.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8neukpUxMmAm_JYDm2SYmTw8-xpR1R6hDSdgmNNiDPc1wslJ8HkszZwmYktDgvYEVVMm16y1FHz3M0DlrUy4T2jKw1gE5njPQ09Gp4xt5JbvkPPhTTiVZ5yznfx5RgAAnLCf9C8QurFyi/s320/DSCI0014.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453789212053295410" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8neukpUxMmAm_JYDm2SYmTw8-xpR1R6hDSdgmNNiDPc1wslJ8HkszZwmYktDgvYEVVMm16y1FHz3M0DlrUy4T2jKw1gE5njPQ09Gp4xt5JbvkPPhTTiVZ5yznfx5RgAAnLCf9C8QurFyi/s1600/DSCI0014.JPG"></a></i></b></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>I just really liked this picture a lot. It is also on The Wall.</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9HVGtrz0scxR-IvgXRWjXv8Riy7aS7gd1O4vO60tt0q9P1FlFo8ul3A3lbHAQ_SdWGo4AdYQCTWrYyX7X48iOihyphenhyphenyP8ttxBpi8wtlsroIfwtWjOvFlK8DTsAarCED8TdOCE7rPFpaILRE/s1600/DSCI0032.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9HVGtrz0scxR-IvgXRWjXv8Riy7aS7gd1O4vO60tt0q9P1FlFo8ul3A3lbHAQ_SdWGo4AdYQCTWrYyX7X48iOihyphenhyphenyP8ttxBpi8wtlsroIfwtWjOvFlK8DTsAarCED8TdOCE7rPFpaILRE/s320/DSCI0032.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453789230765002034" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div></span></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b>I can't get my stupid computer to take off the underline so deal with it :) But I saw this picture and thought of my little brother D.Jay. I know you are more of a Manchester fan, but still got some respect for the Brazil team right?!<br /></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTyhe905PfzHADKJUXDLRsMO7OYppt0_t-QbD-qaNKhCN8ldeeI9kxNZlj_QUBQnqVMXgzuAodC4iLJZiB37us4s66gw8y-7FWYGJy41ts3vUxSBWIocsG5XSFNyaIIYNkCXROi1M6ZU9h/s1600/DSCI0031.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTyhe905PfzHADKJUXDLRsMO7OYppt0_t-QbD-qaNKhCN8ldeeI9kxNZlj_QUBQnqVMXgzuAodC4iLJZiB37us4s66gw8y-7FWYGJy41ts3vUxSBWIocsG5XSFNyaIIYNkCXROi1M6ZU9h/s320/DSCI0031.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453789219838584370" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></span></u></span></i></span></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>Looks like I am stuck with the line... Anywho, this is a really cool mural. It is made up of a bunch of people. I don't think you can tell... But it is, just take my word for it. Or just take a better look at the picture below :)</i></b></span></span></u></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></u></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikelRd9SFC-DaZshFlvXqn5CP6sXhXSCxlz4up-XTYAcGOq6RV7IL4s3SFHWWDigSwOJNJy0r42RnkI6-_2udyZTeslznzUmRl7k9kSC_G4qDXlo6GlZHwUqQH4JBoue5k5B9nHgLtJLfa/s1600/zoomed.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikelRd9SFC-DaZshFlvXqn5CP6sXhXSCxlz4up-XTYAcGOq6RV7IL4s3SFHWWDigSwOJNJy0r42RnkI6-_2udyZTeslznzUmRl7k9kSC_G4qDXlo6GlZHwUqQH4JBoue5k5B9nHgLtJLfa/s320/zoomed.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453792072268907250" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 290px; " /></a></span></u></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>This is where the Berlin Wall stood. If I had been standing here back in the day, I would have been shot. That is assuming I could even make it that far.</i></b></span></span></u></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQOV0B5Lu-14ex4OsmZQ1W2CDaB7ugcw4Yml1N2TzCgCCpPd7KA-OvrpL5yG4-TPQlRcHFtx8cOiDGoidiLivon5-NBmVU2m1FUaGQHO2nU8snCXv7gz3yWw8HKMpDTANrqmVcXYO_h8J/s1600/feet+wall.jpg"></a></i></b></span></span></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></u></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQOV0B5Lu-14ex4OsmZQ1W2CDaB7ugcw4Yml1N2TzCgCCpPd7KA-OvrpL5yG4-TPQlRcHFtx8cOiDGoidiLivon5-NBmVU2m1FUaGQHO2nU8snCXv7gz3yWw8HKMpDTANrqmVcXYO_h8J/s1600/feet+wall.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQOV0B5Lu-14ex4OsmZQ1W2CDaB7ugcw4Yml1N2TzCgCCpPd7KA-OvrpL5yG4-TPQlRcHFtx8cOiDGoidiLivon5-NBmVU2m1FUaGQHO2nU8snCXv7gz3yWw8HKMpDTANrqmVcXYO_h8J/s320/feet+wall.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453792074534051474" style="text-align: center;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 266px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div></span></u></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>Check Point Charlie. No, it isn't named after a guy named Charlie. I have no idea why there is a picture of some random guy there. It is called Charlie because it was the third check point to get into Berlin. Alpha, Beta, Charlie. Get it?</i></b></span></span></u></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGPQ9Mz5ShvxLzHWiktgQbuDiCbE1fYRUGrx3NCBm4owke1PTC2H9eVJbva9e9lCgFbAUG4jy6wb1cXov8Q9Th-gRc6AQYco6of2_J4oEjZcEnxjstCmdKFIz5Blmt1jxqQ-PrymGDIsg/s1600/DSCI0048.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGPQ9Mz5ShvxLzHWiktgQbuDiCbE1fYRUGrx3NCBm4owke1PTC2H9eVJbva9e9lCgFbAUG4jy6wb1cXov8Q9Th-gRc6AQYco6of2_J4oEjZcEnxjstCmdKFIz5Blmt1jxqQ-PrymGDIsg/s320/DSCI0048.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453792069039705058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>Me at Check Point Charlie again. You can't see the guys behind me, but they are trying to make it seem authentic and have guys in US uniforms. Hard to fully believe it though when they have VERY German accents :) Just sayin guys...</i></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKpBxoS_LTFGy5x1GZpggEUYMxWrXbf4Cg4dNF1N7_l5CI_9T5W4Sl-2U5sEnadOoZO3FjBi56QTqOJ3P1gWCtiFqdWfFwNLiFfdZObn-v7b1RJJRkJA4QIflWzRVj-c9tmmnTDhWgisfc/s1600/DSCI0047.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKpBxoS_LTFGy5x1GZpggEUYMxWrXbf4Cg4dNF1N7_l5CI_9T5W4Sl-2U5sEnadOoZO3FjBi56QTqOJ3P1gWCtiFqdWfFwNLiFfdZObn-v7b1RJJRkJA4QIflWzRVj-c9tmmnTDhWgisfc/s320/DSCI0047.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453792054467546498" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_lT_McK5mZ29481z-KSwshctGzBsxSZ14x9b69cY1uAE2kigmQbjJpM4mmnkCN16Iq-0vJlseA92TzauH5RRrXkaNTDeXKm8UWYIXDRX109XFNAOderx7KQY7XDCP1ql1e8yODUSYriv/s1600/DSCI0113.JPG"></a></i></b></span></span></span></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>This is the Brandenburg Tor (gate). Little bit of random information for you-come on, if you know me, you know I am full of random knowledge like this! The statue up there is the Roman Goddess of victory, Victoria (go figure). Well when Napoleon took control, he took Victoria to Paris. When the Prussians got Paris, they brought her back to Berlin. And there she is! The one and original.</i></b></span></span></span></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></span></u></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_lT_McK5mZ29481z-KSwshctGzBsxSZ14x9b69cY1uAE2kigmQbjJpM4mmnkCN16Iq-0vJlseA92TzauH5RRrXkaNTDeXKm8UWYIXDRX109XFNAOderx7KQY7XDCP1ql1e8yODUSYriv/s1600/DSCI0113.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_lT_McK5mZ29481z-KSwshctGzBsxSZ14x9b69cY1uAE2kigmQbjJpM4mmnkCN16Iq-0vJlseA92TzauH5RRrXkaNTDeXKm8UWYIXDRX109XFNAOderx7KQY7XDCP1ql1e8yODUSYriv/s320/DSCI0113.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454847456236088466" style="text-align: center;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>Would my blog be complete without another Dom? I think not.</i></b></span></span></span></u></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLv2uX7O4nuwXUB40aEAQOAADXgsXH4EeEve811dY70f8TwVMC_xoxIPPJv1doZo5Fl9d1BkD7N4huRJEtl5LXJ1F4LF8i8AnLZTvHIhMhtSVpxnK3ZEvgdG16KXkBh58BvzVcsnxja8qk/s1600/DSCI0102.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLv2uX7O4nuwXUB40aEAQOAADXgsXH4EeEve811dY70f8TwVMC_xoxIPPJv1doZo5Fl9d1BkD7N4huRJEtl5LXJ1F4LF8i8AnLZTvHIhMhtSVpxnK3ZEvgdG16KXkBh58BvzVcsnxja8qk/s320/DSCI0102.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454847448470400450" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>This is really cool to me. This is what it looked like when the wall surrounded East Berlin. It starts out with guard towers (with 3 guards in them, because 1 could run, 2 could work together to run, but 3 it was too risky to talk escape) In between each tower there were dogs, then that open space? Mines. Then the wall. I always wondered why people didn't just hop the wall. This is why. The wall was the easy part if you somehow managed to make it that far. In this little area alone there were about 8 people killed just from trying to jump out of their apartment windows to the other side. Crazy.</i></b></span></span></span></u></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcA5osZFGCDDPx7HV3Kh75RPyp23xGq9iQbLQ5VwtZxMG7HHJeWAX-pmoIlwAfRv2ak6-ys-KN0BLkte6xnZmB45P6yaOJ_xO4UK35FSLRgpS5KBOzpDG8QGET2FDax54q9Y7-IAswIxYJ/s1600/DSCI0088.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcA5osZFGCDDPx7HV3Kh75RPyp23xGq9iQbLQ5VwtZxMG7HHJeWAX-pmoIlwAfRv2ak6-ys-KN0BLkte6xnZmB45P6yaOJ_xO4UK35FSLRgpS5KBOzpDG8QGET2FDax54q9Y7-IAswIxYJ/s320/DSCI0088.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454847440446056626" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>This makes me happy. Most of you know how much I really do like graffiti, and well.. This is one of my favorite graffiti artists, Bansky. I randomly stumbled on this and it really made me happy :)</i></b></span></span></span></u></span></div></span></span></u></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></u></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKfwjgEYefzSQubFALVHsplpFbI8BlAwP85k3regH_gCW4rGJx6mOjEF0nq0T1yFYyqyGkMPJ6oIW7JwG4V8IUiW0ru8qkHvYHbLZSMGapbz_1MI_Ns3ZF94LCptQiceUYhQm51zKxT4ZI/s1600/DSCI0083.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKfwjgEYefzSQubFALVHsplpFbI8BlAwP85k3regH_gCW4rGJx6mOjEF0nq0T1yFYyqyGkMPJ6oIW7JwG4V8IUiW0ru8qkHvYHbLZSMGapbz_1MI_Ns3ZF94LCptQiceUYhQm51zKxT4ZI/s320/DSCI0083.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454847425514608738" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div></span></span></u></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>Would a post be complete without something really photoshopped? This is some random courtyard I managed to find myself in. There was a lot of really amazing graffiti here.</i></b></span></span></span></u></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></u></span></div><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Qlo_0g0AWB4ZEWm5AnoWGc5SAG1IN8OkUsMY2B6kxjd6L7OSX7gEfERNWY8pw0L2chbSGXUv4V4Jh2pQHMgDh6iDSN6JeXDgVwodHP64ODbIYJPhmZvAjezSLroG7M4f7lF1NwYkCLQT/s1600/DSCI0068.JPG"></a></i></b></span></span></span></u></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZw8s5x8LHy7BPjGOxaK3uW5LaRWi8FNhIMpJJAE-CU6nIxD8KLTVG1mv4P_7aVYg38e-cTJlDwJPg78Rv8AAtm73e9EQPV1dIatBm84Yxmohrb9gxTO_Pvqj6WXWQrArFU5ZtLCjXDJwj/s1600/tables.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZw8s5x8LHy7BPjGOxaK3uW5LaRWi8FNhIMpJJAE-CU6nIxD8KLTVG1mv4P_7aVYg38e-cTJlDwJPg78Rv8AAtm73e9EQPV1dIatBm84Yxmohrb9gxTO_Pvqj6WXWQrArFU5ZtLCjXDJwj/s320/tables.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454849008073699474" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>The elevator to get up to Annette's apartment (where I was staying) was... special. She lived on the 5th floor. Do you see a button for that? I think not. Go to the 4th floor, get out and then walk up the stairs the rest of the way :)</i></b></span></span></span></span></u></span></div></span></span></span></u></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></u></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz-PQIt_1YNQ7XhZZk32Wphr0qDJo5imP9valdIwxyX-fA1WJPrEEma17kiR8FEE92YspClRCUDnxsz24q62fVw7ykE2L3a4CVNgcUCRr0WK32KYqsi5-3pNKQ1Izxi_nlyKmdQ1b92_v7/s1600/DSCI0154.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz-PQIt_1YNQ7XhZZk32Wphr0qDJo5imP9valdIwxyX-fA1WJPrEEma17kiR8FEE92YspClRCUDnxsz24q62fVw7ykE2L3a4CVNgcUCRr0WK32KYqsi5-3pNKQ1Izxi_nlyKmdQ1b92_v7/s320/DSCI0154.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454848998397450626" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>And this right here folks... This is why I shouldn't be left alone. I find things like this way too entertaining...</i></b></span></span></span></span></u></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsRPyVvmW3ylVV1nP2h_xN-mj-ewsAVPnERazwFR1a9jp7YEVaKsJW4lEp5rrvM2R9VfRGKsKW0kTKSR36sa6UMfifVKRhi8qyu8oeYrjVSee-sO29NqqO7ppELaFrvGiyL6tDaKd_1D_8/s1600/DSCI0150.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsRPyVvmW3ylVV1nP2h_xN-mj-ewsAVPnERazwFR1a9jp7YEVaKsJW4lEp5rrvM2R9VfRGKsKW0kTKSR36sa6UMfifVKRhi8qyu8oeYrjVSee-sO29NqqO7ppELaFrvGiyL6tDaKd_1D_8/s320/DSCI0150.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454848990981874754" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>This is the square where the Nazi's had the book burning. They burned over 20,000 books. </i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>A glass plate set into the Bebelplatz, giving a view of empty bookcases, commemorates the book burning. Furthermore, a line of </i></b></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heinrich_Heine" title="Heinrich Heine" style="text-decoration: none; background-image: none; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">Heinrich Heine</span></i></b></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i> is engraved, stating "Dort, wo man Bücher verbrennt, verbrennt man am Ende auch Menschen" (in English: "Where they burn books, they ultimately burn people"). </i></b></span></span></span></span></span></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></span></span></span></u></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtgzrHmubcV_YlPlAwBNCvYOZDFUMpTGNT_Rzs41Tr2-HCUYFNXuu0QuXkxO2_qmOk9DmNnFjXBAeEKs07Ladk1uEdo1RGfZzaRbAKYQvefrYlAN6LqVQ3m5sULW0cbZuBEni1AliM3ml/s1600/DSCI0131.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtgzrHmubcV_YlPlAwBNCvYOZDFUMpTGNT_Rzs41Tr2-HCUYFNXuu0QuXkxO2_qmOk9DmNnFjXBAeEKs07Ladk1uEdo1RGfZzaRbAKYQvefrYlAN6LqVQ3m5sULW0cbZuBEni1AliM3ml/s320/DSCI0131.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454848981362533410" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>This... THIS is my DREAM car!! It is the Bugatti Veyron... Beautiful piece of work. 1001 hp, worlds second fastest car, and I was a foot away from it! I never thought I would see one, let alone be that close! I had to stop and remember to breathe when I saw it.</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKNdc9CQwkgnl9s7UH-sqrWJ0SnEOiFjpeKArgJ_XfhA6Z5DfAF9RV6NvoQQ0P5RRDhMFTLGWtmnIiADHz9k63wUmUgTlEFmtqqa2ciTfvYOTTSkM2cpuirDGB39mV-Qe39GxjSPJrCqGE/s1600/DSCI0108.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKNdc9CQwkgnl9s7UH-sqrWJ0SnEOiFjpeKArgJ_XfhA6Z5DfAF9RV6NvoQQ0P5RRDhMFTLGWtmnIiADHz9k63wUmUgTlEFmtqqa2ciTfvYOTTSkM2cpuirDGB39mV-Qe39GxjSPJrCqGE/s320/DSCI0108.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454848976838410994" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center; "><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); font-size: 16px; "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "><h1 id="firstHeading" class="firstHeading" style="color: black; background-image: none; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.5em; padding-bottom: 0px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-color: rgb(170, 170, 170); line-height: 1.2em; display: inline !important; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church was really interesting to see as well. It stands as a reminder of the war and what war does. It is really interesting to see, since I have never really been somewhere that was ravaged by a war. It is an eye opening experience.</span></i></h1></span></span></span></span></u></span></span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center; "><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); font-size: 16px; "><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "><h1 id="firstHeading" class="firstHeading" style="color: black; background-image: none; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.5em; padding-bottom: 0px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-color: rgb(170, 170, 170); line-height: 1.2em; display: inline !important; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></h1></span></span></span></span></u></span></span></i></b></div><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPPjEjXc2G_pSMSPgX7J0GuC178pbjw_JSbDtKhinf8xwaAlqycGIecHreTXGGGnfjKpGqIL78IW-KtPDYKDrB5FDsJZqiMdC2VhXd0vuS5o3_eqtktJ4R4h0BzMX41JVsjwFN-LAMDabM/s1600/DSCI0013.JPG"></a></i></b></span><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPPjEjXc2G_pSMSPgX7J0GuC178pbjw_JSbDtKhinf8xwaAlqycGIecHreTXGGGnfjKpGqIL78IW-KtPDYKDrB5FDsJZqiMdC2VhXd0vuS5o3_eqtktJ4R4h0BzMX41JVsjwFN-LAMDabM/s1600/DSCI0013.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPPjEjXc2G_pSMSPgX7J0GuC178pbjw_JSbDtKhinf8xwaAlqycGIecHreTXGGGnfjKpGqIL78IW-KtPDYKDrB5FDsJZqiMdC2VhXd0vuS5o3_eqtktJ4R4h0BzMX41JVsjwFN-LAMDabM/s1600/DSCI0013.JPG"></a></i></b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Qlo_0g0AWB4ZEWm5AnoWGc5SAG1IN8OkUsMY2B6kxjd6L7OSX7gEfERNWY8pw0L2chbSGXUv4V4Jh2pQHMgDh6iDSN6JeXDgVwodHP64ODbIYJPhmZvAjezSLroG7M4f7lF1NwYkCLQT/s1600/DSCI0068.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Qlo_0g0AWB4ZEWm5AnoWGc5SAG1IN8OkUsMY2B6kxjd6L7OSX7gEfERNWY8pw0L2chbSGXUv4V4Jh2pQHMgDh6iDSN6JeXDgVwodHP64ODbIYJPhmZvAjezSLroG7M4f7lF1NwYkCLQT/s320/DSCI0068.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454847420513072594" style="text-align: center;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_z8HTpnLu8KSMk7EQIHlCgpD2j8uPTrQiJRVljkAlcsVQnULKBjSd0qafsHxTjQoZUxKGLctcLkLIwSysg_C5Y8Do6B8IF5ai_D5oDivPcAbv4HXMxpxHArQ5-3JZQ2xtzNCRxXZc4uIp/s1600/rememberence+church.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_z8HTpnLu8KSMk7EQIHlCgpD2j8uPTrQiJRVljkAlcsVQnULKBjSd0qafsHxTjQoZUxKGLctcLkLIwSysg_C5Y8Do6B8IF5ai_D5oDivPcAbv4HXMxpxHArQ5-3JZQ2xtzNCRxXZc4uIp/s320/rememberence+church.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454849579931479890" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><b><i>This is why I wish I had people with me. I saw this and the first cheesy joke that came to my mind was about finding Deutsche-umus Prime. But then I realized there was nobody to laugh at my insanely LAME joke. Normally I am fine with my alone travels, but it is the little moments like this that makes me with there was someone else. </i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKWY7KuERnKYUaN5tkzs0qCKOyf29xxexESYd4m2AK7COPjd9hvfAJJugEFA-qQUyl5WBdYIDSHm3UCxJh1NtY8ey4lJJ2TdFLH1KIxRohTVv3bMzNfT0qNf2xR0zYhK90TTVPKLqRsHS7/s1600/DSCI0185.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKWY7KuERnKYUaN5tkzs0qCKOyf29xxexESYd4m2AK7COPjd9hvfAJJugEFA-qQUyl5WBdYIDSHm3UCxJh1NtY8ey4lJJ2TdFLH1KIxRohTVv3bMzNfT0qNf2xR0zYhK90TTVPKLqRsHS7/s320/DSCI0185.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454849569977267458" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPPjEjXc2G_pSMSPgX7J0GuC178pbjw_JSbDtKhinf8xwaAlqycGIecHreTXGGGnfjKpGqIL78IW-KtPDYKDrB5FDsJZqiMdC2VhXd0vuS5o3_eqtktJ4R4h0BzMX41JVsjwFN-LAMDabM/s1600/DSCI0013.JPG"></a></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPPjEjXc2G_pSMSPgX7J0GuC178pbjw_JSbDtKhinf8xwaAlqycGIecHreTXGGGnfjKpGqIL78IW-KtPDYKDrB5FDsJZqiMdC2VhXd0vuS5o3_eqtktJ4R4h0BzMX41JVsjwFN-LAMDabM/s1600/DSCI0013.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPPjEjXc2G_pSMSPgX7J0GuC178pbjw_JSbDtKhinf8xwaAlqycGIecHreTXGGGnfjKpGqIL78IW-KtPDYKDrB5FDsJZqiMdC2VhXd0vuS5o3_eqtktJ4R4h0BzMX41JVsjwFN-LAMDabM/s1600/DSCI0013.JPG"></a></span><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPPjEjXc2G_pSMSPgX7J0GuC178pbjw_JSbDtKhinf8xwaAlqycGIecHreTXGGGnfjKpGqIL78IW-KtPDYKDrB5FDsJZqiMdC2VhXd0vuS5o3_eqtktJ4R4h0BzMX41JVsjwFN-LAMDabM/s1600/DSCI0013.JPG"></a></i></b></span><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPPjEjXc2G_pSMSPgX7J0GuC178pbjw_JSbDtKhinf8xwaAlqycGIecHreTXGGGnfjKpGqIL78IW-KtPDYKDrB5FDsJZqiMdC2VhXd0vuS5o3_eqtktJ4R4h0BzMX41JVsjwFN-LAMDabM/s1600/DSCI0013.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPPjEjXc2G_pSMSPgX7J0GuC178pbjw_JSbDtKhinf8xwaAlqycGIecHreTXGGGnfjKpGqIL78IW-KtPDYKDrB5FDsJZqiMdC2VhXd0vuS5o3_eqtktJ4R4h0BzMX41JVsjwFN-LAMDabM/s1600/DSCI0013.JPG"></a></i></b></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><br /></span></u></span></div></div>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-84561682816797722902010-03-03T17:12:00.000-08:002010-03-06T16:38:20.870-08:00A mad Ludwig.... Must be family.<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZg2_eS2fSVPoOaniHXgGui6JTwBmDOt11H9MIZUTltTDTK4IF_rPwvz_GzK9hInLzSyR1nz_8tdqji7FuSs2NSD-7AcjhnNzThAj46GfhCmWv0eJlKLn0eowshDyXguoI3_PrY2YoAoD/s1600-h/IMG_1474.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZg2_eS2fSVPoOaniHXgGui6JTwBmDOt11H9MIZUTltTDTK4IF_rPwvz_GzK9hInLzSyR1nz_8tdqji7FuSs2NSD-7AcjhnNzThAj46GfhCmWv0eJlKLn0eowshDyXguoI3_PrY2YoAoD/s320/IMG_1474.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445678829943507490" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It is 2 in the morning, and I am blogging. Seriously I need to work on falling asleep. Well since I am awake, looks like I am going to be productive and write about my latest adventure.</div><div><br /></div><div>I waited and waited all week for Friday. That was to be the start of the fun! First off, I started talking to this girl in Frankfurt about what there was to do in Kelkheim, and was informed of a rockclimbing gym right by me. Who knew?! So we went, and I had a blast! Vikky was a blast to hang out with! We took turns climbing and then when we were taking a little break I saw something that mad me almost die with joy! There were slacklines set up inside!! If you don't know what that is, check the picture below. It is kind of like a tight rope concept?</div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoyYPWUrRaOjfbrbhEbIgAIYDIgchNnnYZ37L5mf8Eg2LV5UgTiRfuZiVzEH9AuFQXt55VUnq0UH5UZgfJuXZwbBzSSAOweoXzIKF2y7alQ4JZ3K0yhJn-68GviG1jo70fKdW0iB5MRrtM/s320/slac.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444581610126959906" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "> It is something I started doing back home with some of my favorite people in the world! I love those guys! We had so much fun slacklining the summer I lived in Provo... ANYWAYS back to the story. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">We played on the slacklines for a while (I think I got Vikky hooked!) And I actually finally got it! All of these years Neil has been telling me to 'Think manatee". What kind of advise was that?! I finally get it now. It is more of a clear your head and relax, float along like a manatee. It all clicked when I was trying to clear my head and the song from the Lion King popped in my head. Before I was only able to take a few steps. Then all the sudden all I can think about is "I have a lovely bunch of coconuts de-de-le-de..." and then I realize I am on the other side of the rope. Holy crap Batman! I did it! I did it a few more times and loved it! I tried the bigger ones and soon realized I needed a longer song. When I got to the "... big ones small ones, some as big as your head." I starting think "well, when Mufassa.." And I got distracted and would fall :) Good times.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">After that Vikky drove me into Frankfurt. We did really well getting me to Anna's house considering I had only been there once and I only knew how to get there by train. Thank heaven for people with patience :) Finally we found it and we said our goodbyes. Before I left though Vikky invited me to go to... This one place that is just across the French border. We are going shoe shopping there on Friday. I can hardly wait! </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">I get to Anna's, and since she loves me, she gave me a key so that I could just come whenever and crash so I didn't have to wake her up. I go to my room there (yup I have a room. The cat isn't too happy about me stealing his bed, but I know that I am bigger than him), and I try to sleep. It wasn't even 11. So it didn't happen. I just laid there for a bit and then remembered I had a letter from Lisa! Can I just tell you how amazing that girl is and how much I love her?!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">At about midnight Anna wakes up. Turns out we didn't have to leave till 1:30 am but her alarm was fast so she was up. She let me make a grilled cheese sandwich with bacon on it! Oh it was heavenly! Wonder bread. Real cheese. Real bacon. Normal milk. Best. Thing. EVER! All of you back home, don't take those sandwiches for granted. They deserve better than that.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">After a lot of good conversation we got in the car and headed for Wiesbaden. That is where our tour bus was to pick us up and take us to Bavaria, and to the amazing castle of Neuschwanstein. I could hardly wait! I had dreamed of going there for as long as I could remember. I always loved this castle for two reasons. 1-it is the castle of 'Mad King Ludwig' (focus on the Ludwig part if you would...) and so I have always imagined that we are related and that I am just some lost little Princess :) With my imagination how could I not?? 2-In my Grandpa and Grandma Beazers house they always had this puzzle (huge puzzle, I think 5000 pieces?) of this castle. It was covered in snow and looked magical. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">The bus ride was... rather long. It was I think, 5 hours all together? We had to take an hour bathroom break/food break, because that is one of the mandatory rules so the driver doesn't get sleepy and what not. Seemed longer I guess cause I was too excited to sleep, and those seats are not designed for a whole lot of sleep. I think I got a few hours that night. Maybe.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">For the record, I would like to point out how touristy this trip was. I went on a big yellow tour bus, and took tours with a tour guide. So odd! All in all I had fun though. We got our tickets and had fun buying random crap :) I love my stuff! I got a necklace with a crown on it (lame sounding I know, but I LOVE IT!), and I bought me a jewelry box that sings edelweiss. We had about... what almost two hours to kill before our tour? Nothing was really open so I took a lot of pictures of the first castle we went to. This one is called Hohenschwangau Castle. This is where King Ludwig II grew up. Since we had a lot of time to kill, here are the pictures :)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgnfR0IbxKyCRtcOqTTfNcaQ-v9uff6aFo-E0o92j-gxx-zW_aYvvQicbOQCSCWze8nMY3cphyqapkiga0tH8X3L3VVGEqgbVmmmvVRwcexcbr_DYuJrzTsVfNcR_wWJ9U-xQWAdXPWChX/s1600-h/IMG_1416.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgnfR0IbxKyCRtcOqTTfNcaQ-v9uff6aFo-E0o92j-gxx-zW_aYvvQicbOQCSCWze8nMY3cphyqapkiga0tH8X3L3VVGEqgbVmmmvVRwcexcbr_DYuJrzTsVfNcR_wWJ9U-xQWAdXPWChX/s320/IMG_1416.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445659749096649538" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is me and Anna in front of neuschwanstein castle. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi72PPDGiRr0xHKY0XfqdME9VgZGmeCQKLkFXXonRsF3wYuXBZmPPbWs3RQyeWM1o4wY7Gjnw5kREmPimmt9257l_iJ06f2g3rkac97hNQHCD_xRj7bsZB_vb7gRMLEdakCU75ApKTgLpF/s1600-h/IMG_1422.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi72PPDGiRr0xHKY0XfqdME9VgZGmeCQKLkFXXonRsF3wYuXBZmPPbWs3RQyeWM1o4wY7Gjnw5kREmPimmt9257l_iJ06f2g3rkac97hNQHCD_xRj7bsZB_vb7gRMLEdakCU75ApKTgLpF/s320/IMG_1422.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445659741545778546" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">We really had too much fun taking pictures....</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdJh-cBpPu4KH7byJdCheLJb2Vk0HIvW5Yey9tDmotNiYgKpIGmz4suPqVgYTz-PwIKvRAK7_5uYB-5-wFibdw8ZlFy2AvZZXcbNQPj7FewxkagEFMMpY5CVj4V6nDMNJAoJquJnSA3SV/s1600-h/IMG_1414.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdJh-cBpPu4KH7byJdCheLJb2Vk0HIvW5Yey9tDmotNiYgKpIGmz4suPqVgYTz-PwIKvRAK7_5uYB-5-wFibdw8ZlFy2AvZZXcbNQPj7FewxkagEFMMpY5CVj4V6nDMNJAoJquJnSA3SV/s320/IMG_1414.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445659736597069906" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">It was nice to be in the mountains again! The 'Alpine foothills' were beautiful!</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNiOsUxwAJGRcxHNL7l3VaOVwhcSVij3e8d0dcsmOSOgYehA4kJUyoh7z-F7txycOt3A6WCpZEvgPybBKF-GIYkqFzmj4MYZtAGBxRa96FbMK6H-71RIwjGUSHiwgPxLfgpWv8chc5eYpt/s1600-h/IMG_1403.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNiOsUxwAJGRcxHNL7l3VaOVwhcSVij3e8d0dcsmOSOgYehA4kJUyoh7z-F7txycOt3A6WCpZEvgPybBKF-GIYkqFzmj4MYZtAGBxRa96FbMK6H-71RIwjGUSHiwgPxLfgpWv8chc5eYpt/s320/IMG_1403.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445659727378091858" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Ok this one... It is here just cause it made me laugh. Anna was taking a picture of the.. May pole? Whatever. The funny part is 'blondie' and 'pretty boy'. They are the two guys walking there... They are important to the story later.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1KRLqoTEcDx1bmO6oAbw6px1AkBPlvzHlR7D1LQ7ma0aymb8Eec9SDpSSMCYNRoEQj73B3Bh1a3lXTPXSDEZC1NI-qySyrC9jfjtquIuO35WSw8rP37SW9iyOrMQjDxqp9Iq_telo9c43/s1600-h/IMG_1398.JPG"></a></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1KRLqoTEcDx1bmO6oAbw6px1AkBPlvzHlR7D1LQ7ma0aymb8Eec9SDpSSMCYNRoEQj73B3Bh1a3lXTPXSDEZC1NI-qySyrC9jfjtquIuO35WSw8rP37SW9iyOrMQjDxqp9Iq_telo9c43/s1600-h/IMG_1398.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1KRLqoTEcDx1bmO6oAbw6px1AkBPlvzHlR7D1LQ7ma0aymb8Eec9SDpSSMCYNRoEQj73B3Bh1a3lXTPXSDEZC1NI-qySyrC9jfjtquIuO35WSw8rP37SW9iyOrMQjDxqp9Iq_telo9c43/s320/IMG_1398.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445659722835824978" style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is the first castle. Yellow... They chose yellow. Whatever. Your castle.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikJf8NxSVCTeckIZCcXRJz7RHU3IFu1OppFrOthCvKSalK6cOrkcT-_HMeqiT0RLTvMPRH6gD2LL78jFYcJbaNyDpaIRnu0naYiDSR3A-0RcJVhEtd554_oEkDm1DwgzVH5cFXACqQe12m/s1600-h/SDC10170.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikJf8NxSVCTeckIZCcXRJz7RHU3IFu1OppFrOthCvKSalK6cOrkcT-_HMeqiT0RLTvMPRH6gD2LL78jFYcJbaNyDpaIRnu0naYiDSR3A-0RcJVhEtd554_oEkDm1DwgzVH5cFXACqQe12m/s320/SDC10170.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445663027389899970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCs5tNM301CvA4RTs4DEJ0O_tW6RHxfrMPgE_yGAn1dlJlPyM8A0UzxFEjh0y9bclU7H-dM3XBZ_2Sw7Y-lOoMfFfAAfIhMrj91ZNz6FDp_VWd9FrPYDvFdcym3AfDvY8rrW8kdAr6X4J2/s1600-h/SDC10187.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCs5tNM301CvA4RTs4DEJ0O_tW6RHxfrMPgE_yGAn1dlJlPyM8A0UzxFEjh0y9bclU7H-dM3XBZ_2Sw7Y-lOoMfFfAAfIhMrj91ZNz6FDp_VWd9FrPYDvFdcym3AfDvY8rrW8kdAr6X4J2/s320/SDC10187.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445663017477697186" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVABTg-e6epVprRVr1NTHB2XJlY8fwhNh8w5QJLrZRdto4O285yHFyT576ymipLG8nSXeU5CtQ_lqif5YAFceRMx71iCyJyjxIW2O5AQndeBebtbOY_6fB1xI9MYzy55SpmmIx7Y70soyg/s1600-h/SDC10191.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVABTg-e6epVprRVr1NTHB2XJlY8fwhNh8w5QJLrZRdto4O285yHFyT576ymipLG8nSXeU5CtQ_lqif5YAFceRMx71iCyJyjxIW2O5AQndeBebtbOY_6fB1xI9MYzy55SpmmIx7Y70soyg/s320/SDC10191.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445663012980937234" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Having too much time works out well sometimes :)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4kn0KhMljMmcOP_TQywyWeUfJgaw99lifr4g_TR0QBp6xEyIjFzQNcXazu5DAgL9fOFF6eMYSE4p9ZY4M1C0H99b5tUWtp5RpABz33YnMnzIYPX4ED5k1HxN3xniKaPuJp3DRmQxGuSNb/s1600-h/SDC10182.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4kn0KhMljMmcOP_TQywyWeUfJgaw99lifr4g_TR0QBp6xEyIjFzQNcXazu5DAgL9fOFF6eMYSE4p9ZY4M1C0H99b5tUWtp5RpABz33YnMnzIYPX4ED5k1HxN3xniKaPuJp3DRmQxGuSNb/s320/SDC10182.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445663008683978450" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">don't forget God whilst drinking and eating" </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitXiQ3z73KMVBm_Z_vH8XC1V7CNtEE5UGtrN9Og75FlC_v6YE1Otq0Wkzu2AKSnyNYxIq5I7iEEtkEm9OYBuItMCEVoFQsQF35qxMpZucvDWQO8o_zBuoMj2jU1m9I1BEtZYI5v4hHF8yU/s1600-h/SDC10180.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitXiQ3z73KMVBm_Z_vH8XC1V7CNtEE5UGtrN9Og75FlC_v6YE1Otq0Wkzu2AKSnyNYxIq5I7iEEtkEm9OYBuItMCEVoFQsQF35qxMpZucvDWQO8o_zBuoMj2jU1m9I1BEtZYI5v4hHF8yU/s320/SDC10180.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445662377452242386" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsR11pg-Czs5h1glgjaipAkfRsOQxJnrjkzz24fY2B9CNH8u3iDdbLWp2PVq1xdXxZf1FMCZpcnMGGXfw5EubKzlQp7WeQ76iEK9aNZ6nFvtVVIFENQOsy29zT2nh3H4-23qfo9q3vsrtw/s1600-h/SDC10177.JPG"></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsR11pg-Czs5h1glgjaipAkfRsOQxJnrjkzz24fY2B9CNH8u3iDdbLWp2PVq1xdXxZf1FMCZpcnMGGXfw5EubKzlQp7WeQ76iEK9aNZ6nFvtVVIFENQOsy29zT2nh3H4-23qfo9q3vsrtw/s1600-h/SDC10177.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsR11pg-Czs5h1glgjaipAkfRsOQxJnrjkzz24fY2B9CNH8u3iDdbLWp2PVq1xdXxZf1FMCZpcnMGGXfw5EubKzlQp7WeQ76iEK9aNZ6nFvtVVIFENQOsy29zT2nh3H4-23qfo9q3vsrtw/s320/SDC10177.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445662190488279106" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">The tour inside the Hohenschwangau Castle was pretty fun. The tour guide was hilarious, and there were some amazing things. Sadly pictures were not allowed inside. LAME! but just go google them. There were some amazing paintings on those walls. I mean ON them. Not hanging on them, they were painted there, and are still there in fantastic condition. There was also a piano there that Richard Wagner played. I really wanted to touch it, just to say that I had... I didn't though. I followed the rules. For the moment.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><br /></span></span></div><div>Wanna know something? Castles are freezing! It was warmer outside than it was inside! (for once it was a beautiful sunny day. I was shocked.) I have no idea how they did it back then... ugh! There were a lot of cool little quirks to this place. There were I think 80 things with swans on them (Hohen<b>schwan</b>gau, Swan is in the name and a big part of this place). There was also a hidden door in the wall that lead to a set of stairs down to the queens room. Also the kings room had the night sky painted on the ceiling, and the servants would... How to explain this... They would put light behind some of the stars and also change the phases of the moon with the lights. Amazing to say the least. </div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdiWX_3Hslh75WxIsAFXloYPghZI_gsGrBMd4DAo0Mab2f3OkEMDBr94xGrmmxC1KTwxU0YzzmxBFjUSuACaq5dbkod5Qi-mZRjnkCz_PMve6UFzOU8KnjdMlvTcWnnFeZXW4z8mREAfcD/s1600-h/SDC10201.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdiWX_3Hslh75WxIsAFXloYPghZI_gsGrBMd4DAo0Mab2f3OkEMDBr94xGrmmxC1KTwxU0YzzmxBFjUSuACaq5dbkod5Qi-mZRjnkCz_PMve6UFzOU8KnjdMlvTcWnnFeZXW4z8mREAfcD/s320/SDC10201.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445683923625830802" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div>After killing some more time walking around and buying more random things, we decided to take the horse ride up to Neauschwanstein castle. I was perfectly ok with this. I was tired, and I love horses :) There were a lot of us crammed in that carriage though... that was my only complaint. But I liked thinking that we were going up the same way they use to back in the day. Good times.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhGImB-BMJ04KcNQWRlm8PhPId3SsqeRvde81b1zixrVsJTUFDJ4MJf3NN8xyr_fUDmjKWkae4y0wmq9VMudDMvc8x8XWQhB_xb1Jj7vXKLYs7OXMzefDMclFpONQ3LQojCW_Zl_tHZO6B/s1600-h/SDC10218.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhGImB-BMJ04KcNQWRlm8PhPId3SsqeRvde81b1zixrVsJTUFDJ4MJf3NN8xyr_fUDmjKWkae4y0wmq9VMudDMvc8x8XWQhB_xb1Jj7vXKLYs7OXMzefDMclFpONQ3LQojCW_Zl_tHZO6B/s320/SDC10218.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445683935278751122" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(I took this picture while waiting in line for the bathroom... Yeah, this is just a bathroom view! Imagine the real views!!)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div>This castle, was always something that was magical to me, and in real life it didn't let me down. It was huge and gorgeous! I took so many pictures! Inside we were not suppose to take pictures, but everyone was, and I finally caved and took one. It was at the top of the stairs. I am in a spiral staircase taking this picture, looking up.</div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ2e9pu1FtJ8nE-CoiB9BFCAYxD0ncg9aEJqfn-EJHHqpRMHSAp3pBz298SfrgYU7qJLYKgohtjZ2ePETIdDvW9gQTAAah65l-lXOwcqhL0e-C7ZfihqqopYzPpviz16z4E5QEcVu4nKM2/s320/SDC10221.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445683929574064178" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span><div> Should have taken one of King Ludwigs room. There were so many amazing things! There was a lot of detailed carvings and stuff, all together just in his room it took the artisans 4 years to complete it. I think he only lived there for 108 days before dying (nobody knows what happened still. Murder? Suicide? Accident? My money is on murder. My theory is that they made the eccentric king look insane to get the throne, and then killed him off for good measure. Did I mention that the Doctor was also found in the lake with him? They both drown in shallow water even though King Ludwig was an excellent swimmer. Eh eh?) There was also a throne room (no throne, King Ludwig ordered it, but once he died his family canceled the order) that was beautiful beyond belief! He also had a fake cave built in one of the corridors. Pretty much everything followed a Wagner theme. The tour guide, who made us feel like cattle and rushed us through, was always saying things like "This room is based off the play 'such and such' by Wagner. This place made me happy cause it was somewhere that imagination had been brought to life. We must be related. This guy got it. Little over the top, but he got it.</div><div><br /></div><div>At the end of the tour we were looking at the window and there was a bridge (I think it was a gift to king ludwigs mom?) and there were people on it. Someone asked about it, and the tour guide, looking down her nose informed us that "the bridge was closed and there was a gate to keep people out, but that some people just didn't listen and wanted to get those pictures of the castle". The bridge is where everyone gets a great view of the castle... The next thought in my mind, how can I convince Anna to let me go?? Before I even formed a way to bring it up, Anna says let's go find the way to get to the bridge! SWEET!!! </div><div><br /></div><div>Turns out the 'gate' that is suppose to keep people out, it is just a pitiful little thing you can slip around. And slip I did! Behind me slipped Blondie-real name Daniel, everything about him screamed army from his walk to his clothes, Pretty Boy-Obviously cute, in the pharmacy division of the army, and Chick who liked to flirt with pretty boy-was there with her mom, and no I didn't laugh when she slipped in the snow.. the first time. Second time I just had to :)</div><div><br /></div><div>After a nice little walk in a little snow, we made it to the bridge. I will let the pictures talk do the explaining how amazing it was...</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><br /></u></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIuEe-W5o1CW_5PMa4sW37DPkL44EDdiEnuJu2YXuM0jQ_UrnnFf69xu4N6DuQiG2y0lhPhOk4BE8NolsZi4CIaEz17ZSN6QHeAkn8RjwA8FvlrVV8EDSsTtcW-HF9oHvZo3-0Pyxco9lO/s1600-h/IMG_1471.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIuEe-W5o1CW_5PMa4sW37DPkL44EDdiEnuJu2YXuM0jQ_UrnnFf69xu4N6DuQiG2y0lhPhOk4BE8NolsZi4CIaEz17ZSN6QHeAkn8RjwA8FvlrVV8EDSsTtcW-HF9oHvZo3-0Pyxco9lO/s320/IMG_1471.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445678844836019570" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></a></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjVrfjMev1-LhCMRoWA96mtdQR53wQJzlzIGiAx-4ilHj3RSRaP5c4C9hSNxwi-HZamhyphenhyphenk02JZBZvcUGW5JHQmgcypCErOH3uK7F-fF9ZqSFHOlfSA-ArYYdwOTRl3Rlbo979phAgdWsbu/s1600-h/IMG_1487.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjVrfjMev1-LhCMRoWA96mtdQR53wQJzlzIGiAx-4ilHj3RSRaP5c4C9hSNxwi-HZamhyphenhyphenk02JZBZvcUGW5JHQmgcypCErOH3uK7F-fF9ZqSFHOlfSA-ArYYdwOTRl3Rlbo979phAgdWsbu/s320/IMG_1487.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445678839024131378" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This was really going to stop people??</div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZg2_eS2fSVPoOaniHXgGui6JTwBmDOt11H9MIZUTltTDTK4IF_rPwvz_GzK9hInLzSyR1nz_8tdqji7FuSs2NSD-7AcjhnNzThAj46GfhCmWv0eJlKLn0eowshDyXguoI3_PrY2YoAoD/s1600-h/IMG_1474.JPG"></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZg2_eS2fSVPoOaniHXgGui6JTwBmDOt11H9MIZUTltTDTK4IF_rPwvz_GzK9hInLzSyR1nz_8tdqji7FuSs2NSD-7AcjhnNzThAj46GfhCmWv0eJlKLn0eowshDyXguoI3_PrY2YoAoD/s1600-h/IMG_1474.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZg2_eS2fSVPoOaniHXgGui6JTwBmDOt11H9MIZUTltTDTK4IF_rPwvz_GzK9hInLzSyR1nz_8tdqji7FuSs2NSD-7AcjhnNzThAj46GfhCmWv0eJlKLn0eowshDyXguoI3_PrY2YoAoD/s320/IMG_1474.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445678829943507490" style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></a></div><div>Now I want you to focus on something right now. After we got to the bridge, the path kept going. We wanted to see where it went, so we did. Half way up Chick started slipping and saying she was kinda done. The guys were like "Oh I guess we could stop... blah blah blah" and then I informed them I was almost there and I was not stopping so close. I wanted a picture from there. Needless to say the guys kept going. Chick waited for us. It didn't take long, so stop feeling bad for her. It isn't her fault she is a whiny wimp :) Or maybe it is. Pretty Boy got to the top first, so I yelled up to see how different it was. He said there wasn't one. So please, tell me. The picture above is from the bridge, below is from the climb. Do you see a difference and think my hike was worth it?</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5romoYtxSpNX8CNZEL50RhbfAlZ2rL5CI4nvqvB-l1A93VMC7eDei6aOv-CvNtjBNkFfdZ5PBGtSULuSZxZRKGg44jzCtiE3RLhUtjdNdIboZYDeRFxkp6J3fIA3QUgedEszNbUrRVYj1/s1600-h/IMG_1482.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5romoYtxSpNX8CNZEL50RhbfAlZ2rL5CI4nvqvB-l1A93VMC7eDei6aOv-CvNtjBNkFfdZ5PBGtSULuSZxZRKGg44jzCtiE3RLhUtjdNdIboZYDeRFxkp6J3fIA3QUgedEszNbUrRVYj1/s320/IMG_1482.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445678862506264162" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></a></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;">(these are both from the hike not the bridge. I am meaning the one above the story and below it.)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Xmr1oz0pNnIMZEC60uPNVaxV7Eu5wuffwXoo1fNq8oTVarpoHoxxUifCSwFsl3nVZfG4F88D1G0iMGqgYTvC5i-Mg_fUAMH3VhfDnV7ocIrIzs2UlNjoLmUTYzYHDwAWnwyMffwrkypx/s320/IMG_1478.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445678853367942386" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div>After the hike down we went and got something to eat. Anna was nowhere to be found, she wanted me to socialize with pretty boy and blondie :) Anyways, they get their beers (Pretty Boy not so hot with a beer in his hands) and I get my non alcoholic drink and chocolate cake :) We had some interesting conversations. At one point in time they were making fun of country music and other things, and I was like "yeah sure pick on the hick from Utah", and they started talking about how they think of Mormons not hicks. Joking around I said "Oh are you just going to start making fun of everything about me then??" and they kinda were joking around with me "oh does that drink have caffeine in it??". That is when our lovely tour guide Patrick at the other table pipes up, "You know, there was once this time when a bunch of Mormons came in to help out with some stuff. They were the best people I have ever worked with. They were hard working, got things done, and were honest." I just sat there grinning at that point :)</div><div><br /></div><div>After that, we all headed back to the bus... Blondie was in the seat in front of me, and Pretty Boy was in the seat back one and across the aisle. We all were joking about how we were going to sleep on the way home as long as the small children let us (there were a few kids from like 8 months to 3 years old. Actually one of the couples with kids were from SLC, small world). Well we sit on the bus and are starting to get comfy..... 8 month old, right behind Pretty Boy starts screaming. I look at Pretty Boy and we both just started laughing. After all the joking, it was going to be a reality. Or so I thought. I decided to try and sleep because I was going on about 30 hours with only the tiny bit of sleep I got on the bus ride down. I crashed good. I think I might have been out for two hours. Dunno. nothing really eventful happened on the bus ride back. We slept, ate, slept, and then we were home. We all parted ways, I still don't know Pretty Boys name, and that is ok. He can forever be Pretty Boy in my mind. Anna and I got home, and just crashed. We were home at about midnight and had church at 9:30. I was dead, but I loved it so much! The trip was a blast and I really loved talking to Anna about things and spending time with her. The castle was all I wanted and more. My imagination didn't do this place justice, which is saying a lot.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "> </span></span></div>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-24243597029259628452010-02-09T07:12:00.000-08:002010-02-21T16:51:18.532-08:00The end of Paris.<div style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">It has taken me a lot of effort to finish this all. I was exhausted when I got back from Paris, both physically and mentally. I got back</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> from Paris at almost midnight on Sunday, and had to work at 6:30 in the morning. Tuesday I started my German class, which is interesting because it is learning German, and taught in German. Not to mention the fact that it is the German 2 class. I am in that class, not because of my skill level, but because I have work when the German 1 class is going on. Those are my excuses for taking so long to write about Paris. But I am doing it now, and will finally feel caught up with everything.</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Sunday started out just like any other Sunday. I got up and got ready for church. Unlike any other Sunday, everything was in French. Everyone at church was very polite and said "Bonjour" to me, which I quickly said Bonjour back and moved on before they decided to strike up a conversation. Which would just confuse me and annoy me that I didn't know what they were saying. Not annoy me because they were speaking French, that was to be expected. I just get annoyed with myself when I can't understand someone. Makes me feel rude (even though I know there is nothing wrong with not knowing every single language in the world. That would be cool though). Church was great even if I didn't catch much. The Spirit was there, and since it doesn't have a language barrier it works.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">After church I said goodbye to the Crucy family, and then was dropped off at the train station. I still had a little bit left in Paris and I planned to enjoy it! So here I am. Sitting on yet another train. I am thinking to myself, "Where in the world am I going to change out of this skirt? It is way too cold to even think about walking around in this, and if I am boarding I am not doing it in a skirt today. Hmmm...." I took a quick look around me, realized there wasn't anyone close by, and that the next stop was about 5 minutes away. Why not?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Those of you who know me, know that I have a habit of doing random things while driving. I eat my Captain Crunch, brush my teeth, do my makeup (no worries, all safely, usually at stop lights. Calm yourself). I also have a habit of changing in my car. You can see where this is going right :) Yes, I changed on the train. Using my mad skills nobody noticed. Yes I know nobody noticed cause there was only one person behind me, and they kept chatting away like nothing was happening. All the other people were in front of me facing the other direction. I am just sneaky sneaky like that. I had just done up my belt when the train stopped and a lot of people got on. I couldn't help but smile as I put my skirt away. They never knew. But I will forever remember that!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Fully clothed and ready to go, I FINALLY got to take my board on the streets of Paris. It was fantastic. Everything I dreamed of and more. Well until 5 people would all walk side by side and take up the whole sidewalk. Really people? I thought about just running them over, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. It was Sunday after all. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">After looking along the banks of the Seine River looking for a copy of Les Miserables (I found a lot of AWESOME old books but sadly don't have 300 Euro to spend on one book... I wish! There were ones that I know in the early 1800's, girls sat by their windows reading. Passing the time until the rain stopped and they could go and walk in the gardens. Or what not... Active imagination had a hay day with it all.) I got me a crepe from the yummy place right by Notre Dame and sat down at the place I will not call my Paris spot. This is where i was sitting.</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDlF8BxNTsIF_zZVu6SH17NQWZyOdHh_3kBtLsIAx1fVbwvF8zK2Uvl-6ZknGkzp6yzKuj0Aiib8S1PdympbUJ0nJ3Lzs8GxqQ9e-vm_3IGJ3UY_lHdxstwRO2ksUEF8GiEjTEkk38xwXc/s320/myspot.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440855992981703010" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span><div><div style="text-align: left;">I loved it! I know I may not be able to claim claim it, since I have only been there once, but guess what? I will call it my spot anyways. I loved it! It was just off the beaten path a tiny bit, so people weren't close enough to bother me, but I was still right in the middle of everything and got to people watch. I am trying to find exactly where I was on a map, but it is rather difficult, so for now you just get this picture. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">After some more aimless wanderings, and a few more books stores, I finally made my way to the meeting point to get my ride home. I used a website called <a href="http://mitfahrgelegenheit.de/">mitfahrgelegenheit.de/</a> and pretty much what it really is, is hitchhiking the safe way. You go see if anyone is driving from where you are to where you want to be, pitch in for gas (set amount) and join in the ride. People can make pretty decent money off of this, and I think there are quite a few people who do use this as their normal job. So I meet up with them, and shocker, it is me and 4 other guys. You would think with all these guys around me at least one would be cute, or at least not 20+ years older than me. Nope. No such luck. Oh well. We all get into the van, and lucky me, I get the middle row of seats all to myself. I was thinking I was going to talk to the people in the van, get to know some folks, but they all kinda started falling asleep (minus the driver who was dancing along to his mariachi band. No he isn't any form of Latino. He is black and from.... Somewhere not Spanish/French/or German. He was a strange man.). So I decided to sleep, since well, I don't like Mariachi bands all that much. To make the Mariachi music that much worse... It was the only CD he had. Seriously? Who brings ONE CD on a 7 hour drive?! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">That was about the excitement for the ride home. No problems, nothing really. So we get to the train station in Frankfurt at 10 Pm. The last train home leaves at 9:45. Suck. Looks like I get to figure out the bus system. I have never taken any of the other trains out to where I need to catch my bus. I have always just taken my train. Can't be that hard right? Well for the first time in my travels of the train system, I got on the wrong train. I at this point I am dead tired and just want to be home in my bed. After some checking of trains and waiting in the cold (oh cause it apparently snowed a ton while I was gone), I made it back to the main train station and onto the correct train and then to my bus.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Usually from this point, it takes my train 10 minutes to get to my stop. The bus, it came so close to my house, then took a lovely detour away from it. My 10 minute commute turned into and hour. Finally I get off the bus, and have to hike home up the huge hill in the snow. I just keep telling myself that my warm bed is waiting for me. Then I realized something rather critical. I turned off my heater before I left, no need to waste now. That wouldn't have been a problem except for one thing. At about 11:30 they shut off the heaters and they don't come back on till 6 in the morning. Usually you are in your nice warm bed by that point so it doesn't matter. This time it did.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I froze. Once I finally made it into my bed, I used my pillows as blankets. Actually worked rather well. The pillows here make better blankets than actual pillows. I think this sums up my whole Paris trip. Only took me what... A month to finish it? Yeah yeah, I know. Slacker. But I figured I should catch up or I would just fall further behind. Cause I can't put up other things before I finish one. That would just make everything so confusing! So now I am caught up, and hopefully next Sunday I will have the energy to write and tell you all about my trip to the castle :) Yup, I am going to the castle of my dreams on Saturday! Happy as a clam!!!</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></span></div></div>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-26142320593263982012010-02-08T15:06:00.000-08:002010-02-08T15:38:29.916-08:00Churches, art, red light district, and moldy cheese.<span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkB9CoKDr__aMB4jNoAy46KY3aHLq0XTsC1wHYHEi2mUI1HRVT3xSwYatVaYaM_gphVhAuqk8Tm6Yccj-oySYy0LIIIia5QUYbyW93rksn83s0KNLmdIqLloJ0PWq6hx-iX9QHvIpm3op8/s1600-h/sacred+heart.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkB9CoKDr__aMB4jNoAy46KY3aHLq0XTsC1wHYHEi2mUI1HRVT3xSwYatVaYaM_gphVhAuqk8Tm6Yccj-oySYy0LIIIia5QUYbyW93rksn83s0KNLmdIqLloJ0PWq6hx-iX9QHvIpm3op8/s320/sacred+heart.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436013532024719970" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Now for a little clarification before hand, the family I was staying with lived outside of Paris in a small town I can’t pronounce(Ok let’s face it, I can’t pronounce really any of the places that I went to in France). So I was going to have to figure out how to take the bus to the train stop and how to get back. I figured I could do that. Luckily for me, it was all made even easier. Staying with a family was a BYU student who was there teaching the study abroad kids. It is easy to say that Garrett saved my sanity!<br /><br />The family I was with were great. They were kind and very hospitable to me. At the same time there were definitely language barriers (more so with actually UNDERSTANDING what the other meant. We got the words, but sometimes things were just lost), and also culture barriers. Garrett, being American, was able to help me understand some things about the culture and such that I was able to make it.<br /><br />Friday night as I am about ready to crash for the lack of energy, the family invites me up to family prayer. I really appreciated that a lot actually. Anyways I go up there and the family is all there and this random guy. He looks at me and says something along the lines of “you must be Rachel”. I can’t be exact, remember I am about to pass out. I am a little confused cause I knew there was a BYU student staying with them, but I never got a name. So I just say “hey…. You…” and that seemed to work well. Anyways, after prayer, Sister Crucy asked Garrett, since he was going into Paris in the morning, if he could help me figure out how to use the bus and train to get there and back. No problem, but he won’t be leaving till about 11. SWEET!!! I get to sleep in!<br /><br />Sleep in I did! I loved it! Sister Crucy actually was worried about me, and worried I was not going to see all I wanted to see. Apparently she didn’t realize that I had seen just about everything on my list the day before. Oh well. Garrett and I head on our way, and miss the bus. The next one doesn’t come for an hour, and it is like a 45 minute walk, so we decide just to walk it. It is a beautiful day, the sun is shining (first time I had really seen the sun in a long time!), and it is pretty warm. Totally different from my rainy day before.<br /><br />After a few wrong turns and some entertaining conversations we finally made it to the train station. As it turns out Garrett’s plans had canceled and he offered to take me to the places I wanted to visit that day. Perfect! Not only would I be able to have a real conversation (saying ‘hello’ ‘thank you’ and ‘do you speak English’ to the locals is not what I would consider a real conversation.) but I would have someone there that would be able to answer my random questions and translate when needed.<br /></span><p style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguTqTXfdDizhGlWFuuOxjTeFITG_lRDK5OUC4ZKZq5zzPzEvOrkmrCbrzxy7A2VygPKem67ar5y2PtSGIRM9ETAiTjghoEnL-UDOm2-m-xOpTPVFkVmDzM9UdPNquc2AocWcPilmbgunjQ/s1600-h/me+lvoe.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 311px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguTqTXfdDizhGlWFuuOxjTeFITG_lRDK5OUC4ZKZq5zzPzEvOrkmrCbrzxy7A2VygPKem67ar5y2PtSGIRM9ETAiTjghoEnL-UDOm2-m-xOpTPVFkVmDzM9UdPNquc2AocWcPilmbgunjQ/s320/me+lvoe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436014148841187042" border="0" /></a></span></p><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >The first thing we saw was the Love wall. It is just a random wall with love written like 300 different ways and in many different languages. It was rather cute :)<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipVPr74gUZ_o0rFH277dIPeqj9kbxWuCbST0GdL7-bkmofkipo8LPEJNEv82zT72lzT3bZbjotunZUny2P_sTPEZ8gYvZBplP_d8fDk782Eqje8U_EA2Z2WvvfKjmY4JdpnNm7dMj2aqQt/s1600-h/art+is+love.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipVPr74gUZ_o0rFH277dIPeqj9kbxWuCbST0GdL7-bkmofkipo8LPEJNEv82zT72lzT3bZbjotunZUny2P_sTPEZ8gYvZBplP_d8fDk782Eqje8U_EA2Z2WvvfKjmY4JdpnNm7dMj2aqQt/s320/art+is+love.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436013997612973474" border="0" /></a></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >This is right above the Love Wall and says something along the lines of "Love is disorganized, Then love!" or something like that... I forgot the meaning in the translation and only have the literal translation that says "love is the disorder. then love".<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh929hT8h7XcKlw53gsJJ-190gKZ6Dr6ELoWwkNKem6eTcZBuDYLnPibLeC-vXnwg6ujKvAxNI5p43Las913Al9RFTJOb0JD9PlmtD8hMu4i3WxH2J4B2_l85efbcJ1EWB4Bh_1GJl9Nd2Y/s1600-h/sa+cr.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 219px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh929hT8h7XcKlw53gsJJ-190gKZ6Dr6ELoWwkNKem6eTcZBuDYLnPibLeC-vXnwg6ujKvAxNI5p43Las913Al9RFTJOb0JD9PlmtD8hMu4i3WxH2J4B2_l85efbcJ1EWB4Bh_1GJl9Nd2Y/s320/sa+cr.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436019635216930162" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >From there we went to Sacré-Cœur (which translates to Sacred Heart). It is built at the highest part of the city and quite beautiful. The only flaw I found with this was the stairs. There were so many of them and I was still in pain from the day before. I convinced myself to keep walking up them because if I did, I would be able to get me an extra dessert. Which I did.<br /><br />The inside was beautiful and I would really love to be one of the people that had access to some of the towers and such. There were a lot of things that you couldn’t really make out from the ground (statues and such) but they probably didn’t let tourists up there for obvious liability reasons. Lame. It was really beautiful, but I had the same problem with this church as I do with most Catholic churches. The creepy statues of Christ that make you fear him. I really don’t like that at all and it makes me sad that they choose to immortalize fear instead of love.<br /><br />After a few quick pictures (look I am actually in some!!!) we noticed that there was a lot of noise going on at the base so we went to check it out. There were some SICK break dancers. There was one guy called ‘Eddie Murphy’ who claimed to be from LA. This would have been a lot more believable if he didn’t say it with a French accent. Just saying. I still can’t believe the skill level of one of the guys dancing. He was doing a handstand, bouncing with the beat of the music (still on his hands), and then would switch from hand to hand. He was honestly amazing. I enjoyed watching them.<br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" ><a style="font-family: georgia;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrq1H338VqtIt4d8qkngUWBMWojrvUM3VTMlLIIwjAc7Rq92hUmO6b9P8ELrC-HaYrQfXNPSBCK5hfTQmRTdO_AFABtDf-6kiMrHuyUBrQtJt96_YuwlGuuScanzbTqLsxk4r5TfFIpm9J/s1600-h/dream+job.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrq1H338VqtIt4d8qkngUWBMWojrvUM3VTMlLIIwjAc7Rq92hUmO6b9P8ELrC-HaYrQfXNPSBCK5hfTQmRTdO_AFABtDf-6kiMrHuyUBrQtJt96_YuwlGuuScanzbTqLsxk4r5TfFIpm9J/s320/dream+job.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436014488955059138" border="0" /></a></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br />Just a little ways up from the church, there is this section that a lot of artist gather. This area of Paris has been home to painters such as Picasso and Van Gough, and it is still very artistic. There is this section where painters come and paint, and people just buy their stuff then and there. I would LOVE for that to be my job. Just to paint and talk to people from all over the world. What could be better?!<br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" ><a style="font-family: georgia;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFVtdLml251M4MLJywFpD1jX4JlMLij1HxEwkAdkzNELmYQhyh_FSoq2PHaL3x0bqI93-rRoDFSYlN1uO4kQ1sU39atnYTj8Q_G-sP1aB3DnNNz7KQU8ix8Blrf1P4pOKS2ICGR4xaXRWi/s1600-h/m2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFVtdLml251M4MLJywFpD1jX4JlMLij1HxEwkAdkzNELmYQhyh_FSoq2PHaL3x0bqI93-rRoDFSYlN1uO4kQ1sU39atnYTj8Q_G-sP1aB3DnNNz7KQU8ix8Blrf1P4pOKS2ICGR4xaXRWi/s320/m2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436014714904392994" border="0" /></a></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br />Since we were in the area, we went by the Moulin Rouge (which translates to the red windmill, not all that cool). I was warned not to go there because it was the ‘red light district’. The places I went, I think the worst I saw was a sign that said ‘Lingerie’. I saw worse things on the streets in Seattle. I am sure there are worse places, but not where I went that is for sure.<br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj2UhwUr9zs6xZ5iO3hgYkrxx1_7sOPJ1rhyUZvgWnjPn5rITUqkpNi61TN6oFE8SobhMm4dQvgcTP5JPXK57YqPd4Mxm2VW70OHS5smnBOsKQXGqtFQVyLR2De_fryxBnZOyg_JY4UfE5/s1600-h/rae2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj2UhwUr9zs6xZ5iO3hgYkrxx1_7sOPJ1rhyUZvgWnjPn5rITUqkpNi61TN6oFE8SobhMm4dQvgcTP5JPXK57YqPd4Mxm2VW70OHS5smnBOsKQXGqtFQVyLR2De_fryxBnZOyg_JY4UfE5/s320/rae2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436020529139107026" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br />After that there was only one last thing to see before we moved on. We had to stop by Rachel Ave. Come on! I was in Paris and there was a street with my name on it! Right down from the Moulin Rouge. It made me happy and I rather enjoyed my little street(it was small and ended at the cemetery, but who cares right!?)<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEige-YB-N_cHgjRFDjzHEeHNQm7ha_l7hXMEPDtXmoMKC3poOyCAb-kft4K5YTZB9yVji5cKCO4RzTavDCHlOEHOE03UFKqxRB3rMY5Ro8p83n_IuTNWUKaRDy0Yt-fuyFt88CdbkfEzEX4/s1600-h/eiffel-tower-sparkling-al-blackford.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEige-YB-N_cHgjRFDjzHEeHNQm7ha_l7hXMEPDtXmoMKC3poOyCAb-kft4K5YTZB9yVji5cKCO4RzTavDCHlOEHOE03UFKqxRB3rMY5Ro8p83n_IuTNWUKaRDy0Yt-fuyFt88CdbkfEzEX4/s320/eiffel-tower-sparkling-al-blackford.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436020606012094530" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >(Just to mention, all the other pictures are taken by me, but this one is off the internet. My camera was on the fritz at this point in time sadly.)</span><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br />Few more trains and a bit more walking, we were at the last tourist place for the night. The Eiffel Tower. Now I mentioned in my earlier blog how disappointed I was by the Eiffel Tower. Just because it didn’t have the magic like I thought it would. When I went back that night, I felt the magic. Every hour they Tower sparkles. It was…. Beautiful doesn’t feel like a strong enough word to explain it. I loved it and now every time I see a picture of the Eiffel Tower, day or night, it is beautiful and magical to me.<br /><br />There was quite a long line to go up to the top, so we had a while to just sit under the Eiffel Tower and take everything in. I watched, from under the Eiffel Tower, the stars rise over the Field of Mars. Right there above it was the constellation Orion. It was just so… fantastic. There I was, in Paris, looking at the stars and the Eiffel tower at the same time. There listening to the people trying to sell you tourist crap. The jingling of the Eiffel Tower key chains, and the salesmen repeating over and over “one euro” which more sounded like one word ‘oneeuro’. That is the moment I fully fell in love with Paris.<br /><br />When we finally got to the top of the Tower, the site was phenomenal. The night was perfectly clear and you could see the entire city lit up. This is also when my camera decided it didn’t want to work anymore. Stupid thing! Oh well, this is where my great imagination comes in handy. I will always have that image in my head.<br /><br />Since it was freezing up there, we didn’t stay for long. I could have stayed up there for hours just looking around. So it was probably a good thing it was cold. Or I would have missed a lot.<br /><br />As promised, after the Tower, I got my extra dessert I earned from walking all those stairs. A crepe with this amazing chocolaty goodness on it. It was just North from Notre Dame and wow…. That was so good! It is a good thing I don’t live in Paris because I would probably try and live off of those… Which I don’t see being a good idea.<br /><br />Now up to this point I had only had delicious French food. When I got back to the house that night, I was informed I was going to try French cheeses. Oh dear. The first one was actually really good. Then again it was actually a swiss cheese : ) The second one scared me right off the bat. I have no idea what it was called, but it was in a round container, kinda gooey, and apparently a mild French cheese.<br />When deciding the best way to eat it I asked Garrett if I eat the outside part, or cut it off like we did the last one. He tells me that he eats it just like that, so go ahead. First bite, there is a little bit of a kick to it, but I think I can handle it. Second bite… The cheese bites back! I was trying so hard not to throw up. I apparently don’t like mold on the edge of my cheese. Imagine that. I manage somehow to eat that bite. Then I start to cut off the edge, which starts Chester (Lior, my friends brother) on how I should just eat it because it is part of the culture. He served his mission in Provo and was saying “You know, the first time I had mashed potatoes and roast beef, I just had to except that and eat it!” and just going off on me. 1- I am not a missionary, and I wont eat things just because I am told to finish them. No way, no how. 2- Potaotes? Really? He is half German, potatoes are eaten by the Germans like no other. Ugh. Oh well. Life goes on right?<br />That is the end of Saturday. Only one day left the prove how I went to Paris, and I didn’t get kidnapped, sold into prostitution, and/or addicted to drugs.<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span> <p style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-88701373463690545832010-02-02T06:06:00.000-08:002010-02-03T07:45:52.427-08:00Yes, I walked it all!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-iiRj4jWfO5RLluM1m1PGWyHLgZUj3UVxJ8xoe0E_XiVXToPWasSAv7fzzel4OGcx7EgP2oQf16NTVNxR6uFdsXCa6oPQRJ1n0VL5n-wGlvCnbdaXSWnlClMQOyfmelYU80OkmyPoMauP/s1600-h/the+tower.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-iiRj4jWfO5RLluM1m1PGWyHLgZUj3UVxJ8xoe0E_XiVXToPWasSAv7fzzel4OGcx7EgP2oQf16NTVNxR6uFdsXCa6oPQRJ1n0VL5n-wGlvCnbdaXSWnlClMQOyfmelYU80OkmyPoMauP/s320/the+tower.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433997995846854386" border="0" /></a><br />When I got out of the train station, to say I was lost would be a rather large understatement. I just started walking and figured I would eventually discover where I was. For the record I would like to point out that it is raining quite a bit during this story. I did discover something fantastic as soon as I got to Paris. That I had lent my umbrella to someone, and now, it was broken. In the middle of a rain storm in Paris is not the most ideal place to discover this. Luckily only one of the bars (are they bars? The little leg things that stretch out and hold up the material. That thing) was broken, so it was mostly functional. Every once in a while it would snag in my hat/hair, but I was in Paris! What did I really care?!<br /><br />Eventually when I feel like I have no idea where I am, I pull out my map. Trying to keep it dry while figuring out where I was had to be pretty funny looking. Which is probably why the little old French man came over to help me out :) He was really kind and since there was an X on the Louvre, he started giving me directions to it. Worked well since that is where I was going. Except for the fact I couldn't understand him his directions were great! He pointed, I walked.<br /><br />Little while later I decided I was going to change my plans and instead of starting at the Louvre I was going to end there. The guy at the metro ticket station was a huge help!!! He showed me where to change trains and how to do it, and gave me a little map (this map became like my Paris Bible! I read it, re read it, and freaked out if I thought I lost it). This is now where Paris really starts.<br /><br />First, I went to The Arc of Triumph (or Arc de Triomphe). The Arc de Triomphe honors those who fought for France, particularly during the Napoleonic Wars. On the inside and the top of the arc there are all of the names of generals and wars fought. Underneath is the tomb of the unknown soldier from World War I.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIatbVxtokX4CMtdVeYvBrl3eWqLPFOCOmComvSgShLw_3fm8ENFSs1JlSqGz4TNTd-eEcmdUvlcG7JnORuROEStGqGE1iYbTOxLdQ30wbdVVIx2RAdWlTlPbPQtYSYKos5Ix1l7R6Ql_W/s1600-h/DSCI0020.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIatbVxtokX4CMtdVeYvBrl3eWqLPFOCOmComvSgShLw_3fm8ENFSs1JlSqGz4TNTd-eEcmdUvlcG7JnORuROEStGqGE1iYbTOxLdQ30wbdVVIx2RAdWlTlPbPQtYSYKos5Ix1l7R6Ql_W/s320/DSCI0020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433650391110550482" border="0" /></a>It was interesting to see, and there is a lot of talent that went into creating this. It was beautiful really.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi089JQP24yhQiprtQ25ShMjzcy3RFTnkljQMYCJ2nNLzTp1Wd_Pl4BY2ZNXNdsZHf8eoP0HLBaKpEhxC_wd1_mNVdAj9_Nvo2vdEcW4QV9SLNk5B1aceIJXjkg_GEV0tItlX8ksyRmblQ/s1600-h/nmkl.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi089JQP24yhQiprtQ25ShMjzcy3RFTnkljQMYCJ2nNLzTp1Wd_Pl4BY2ZNXNdsZHf8eoP0HLBaKpEhxC_wd1_mNVdAj9_Nvo2vdEcW4QV9SLNk5B1aceIJXjkg_GEV0tItlX8ksyRmblQ/s320/nmkl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433651398264117410" border="0" /></a><br />. Then I started my walk towards the Eiffel Tower. I didn't feel the need to consult my map. It is kind of hard to miss really. Or so I thought. The monument that you can see from all over the city, all of the sudden will disappear when you are close to it. After playing peek-a-boo with it for about 20 minutes I was there.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr1wgqP2TBEB-if13SZDx6QkAelCDYlQ_6IbGx7sOdi4BcoeR_y6I2dRlSRwMp2T0V2sfOSytS8giE7ScqJD1-ZnqluQ40N-UG45tRfWRuR3GjjkIfn6fYzYgUidaDjCyPChhODnnSHaXi/s1600-h/tower+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr1wgqP2TBEB-if13SZDx6QkAelCDYlQ_6IbGx7sOdi4BcoeR_y6I2dRlSRwMp2T0V2sfOSytS8giE7ScqJD1-ZnqluQ40N-UG45tRfWRuR3GjjkIfn6fYzYgUidaDjCyPChhODnnSHaXi/s320/tower+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433652072733184530" border="0" /></a>There I was. Staring at the monument that is world renowned. The most visited paid monument in the world. Not going to lie, I was a little let down. It was cool, don't get me wrong, but I was expecting magical. When I crossed under it, I will admit that I was in awe at the construction of it. It is immense! It really was amazing, just not magical.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJAiXeOaAADpNy2jOHUJQgdXiJvsDfAzsVNvbVmv0PZ9A1rDt43DelVp-goDPuvHWmmCoradY8_NlSfWqGCDnJ82kAAjOJVY1l3SppL0yL2W_WqLwmjuVPOkzc5gXcLc8vucZ8RB2CO7SE/s1600-h/more+tower.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJAiXeOaAADpNy2jOHUJQgdXiJvsDfAzsVNvbVmv0PZ9A1rDt43DelVp-goDPuvHWmmCoradY8_NlSfWqGCDnJ82kAAjOJVY1l3SppL0yL2W_WqLwmjuVPOkzc5gXcLc8vucZ8RB2CO7SE/s320/more+tower.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433773168662503090" border="0" /></a>I continued my walk by walking through the Champ de Mars, or the Field of Mars (Referring to the Roman God) and I took one more look at this structure. It was originally hated by the people, including one of my favorite authors Alexander Dumas. The Eiffel tower was suppose to be torn down 20 years after being built. It is strange to think that this place almost didn't exist. That they could have torn it all down before it reached its potential.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ZVRA35rNp3viw84JKOV18DX_zERZQUZ4_T4mUQG8VilNvX8c1SSNbtlVBVX1f0NeKoWQ77qGbqJ-Ex1XJ7RqwKlQCCluMTW9V9nwpExKTJgtyvGLWbFQLlj_gwv2OX3qKMUIBdiYZZHh/s1600-h/he+would.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ZVRA35rNp3viw84JKOV18DX_zERZQUZ4_T4mUQG8VilNvX8c1SSNbtlVBVX1f0NeKoWQ77qGbqJ-Ex1XJ7RqwKlQCCluMTW9V9nwpExKTJgtyvGLWbFQLlj_gwv2OX3qKMUIBdiYZZHh/s320/he+would.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433775131695951826" border="0" /></a><br />Next we come to Les Invalides. This whole area is designated to War history, memorials of was heroes, and there is even a veterans hospital here too. The most infamous person buried here is Napoleon. That guy seriously had short man syndrome. That big dome there up top... It is over where his grave is. All I have to say is he would! I was also just informed that he is not even lying inside. That his ashes are scattered over the shores, the banking area. Honestly now!!!<br /><br />Looking back at this trip, there is only one thing I regret. At the corner of Rue de Vaugirard and Rue Madame there was this little bookstore. It had a very old copy of Le Divorce, which I decided not to buy because I was looking for Les Miserables. I figured I could come back and get it if I couldn't find Les Miserables. They were closed when I came back. Tear...<br /><br />When I came to Jardin du Luxembourg, it was absolutely fantastic. It was a huge park (It is actually the largest public park) with statues and sculptures all over the place. There was a very peaceful feeling there. Here I was in the middle of Paris, and everything was so quite and calm. There were a few joggers, but other than that nobody was running around. Everyone there was just relaxed and looking around, enjoying the scenery. No rushing around to daily life, just contentment to be there.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb1NPHRCbLxlyHwMuO6hyAS0wtVWccsPurveAFyQzXwAV59PKJclGCGROXmTegb_rYuViRoN82mRLA4rL7p_o2hceBuSuJeJnKJH1SxeGVLqCy-PNQ1rojhXSkDsHvuk9NpipPIrZeNkcy/s1600-h/crying.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb1NPHRCbLxlyHwMuO6hyAS0wtVWccsPurveAFyQzXwAV59PKJclGCGROXmTegb_rYuViRoN82mRLA4rL7p_o2hceBuSuJeJnKJH1SxeGVLqCy-PNQ1rojhXSkDsHvuk9NpipPIrZeNkcy/s320/crying.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433979105667537042" border="0" /></a><br />This statue was there, and it was really interesting because of the rain and everything, there were tears running down her face. I have no idea who she was, but I really liked her.<br /><br />I then started to peruse Boulevard Saint Michel, on the search for used bookstores. Google and I had a chat about this before I left and it told me that there were a lot on this street. There was only one thing I was looking for. An old copy of Les Miserables. It is one of my favorite books, and I also LOVE the play and the movie. When I was talking to someone about how I wanted to find it, they told me to go get it off of ebay. Honestly! EBAY!? Let me think... Do I want to get the book Les Miserables in Paris, the place that the book is set in, or on ebay. Call me a dreamer, or a romantic, but I would rather get it in Paris. Sadly I didn't have any luck, the closest thing I came to was about 150 year old book by Victor Hugo for about 100 euros....Yeah. I didn't get it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg24OY5XFUlQZwHEwvMzTsFK5qk-dIkSSy4ERyL3BMErI9GYFsSTb5sXCms3jFT6QnENU-_4QM8A_vm5PxRRGFneO13Sd6nxy2BhQBqzq4moKg_So__d1GDWt1ZsDPGLplhfH9PgnI8fecx/s1600-h/notre+dame.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg24OY5XFUlQZwHEwvMzTsFK5qk-dIkSSy4ERyL3BMErI9GYFsSTb5sXCms3jFT6QnENU-_4QM8A_vm5PxRRGFneO13Sd6nxy2BhQBqzq4moKg_So__d1GDWt1ZsDPGLplhfH9PgnI8fecx/s320/notre+dame.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433983081646152722" border="0" /></a><br />I am starting to feel like tour guide Barbie now. I want to tell you that if you look off to your right (since you are still on Boulevard Saint Michel) you will see the breathtakingly beautiful Notre Dame. Most of you already caught onto this, but in case anyone missed this, I love old cathedrals! I can easily sit and stare at them for hours. Notre Dame blew away every cathedral I have ever seen. I just sat down and stared for at least 15 minutes(Which felt great because this was really about the first time I had sat down all day).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbIrlzh5LMWnoBeHZEmvVkkAJPjaCZgTMJ8L8-PAFa0lzzAXsx2Gv28fNtGpS9-DFAptz0VAPqowKT-pRT2zRmT5vuySydcnwJ3DldWIC7V1zalR9AZWqtumJFT0KckKJ4QJbGriVfWAOf/s1600-h/inside+dame.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbIrlzh5LMWnoBeHZEmvVkkAJPjaCZgTMJ8L8-PAFa0lzzAXsx2Gv28fNtGpS9-DFAptz0VAPqowKT-pRT2zRmT5vuySydcnwJ3DldWIC7V1zalR9AZWqtumJFT0KckKJ4QJbGriVfWAOf/s320/inside+dame.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433982686967858546" border="0" /></a><br />This picture really doesn't do the place any justice. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but in this case that is just not enough.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNTJFCI2Oc0aKtJb1bO1h4wymiCSpIyCPmuzrk3gjjHm1Dif8ydF0LgrQdLVvg6HMpgq9Ih_rWLAnYkzpkaTxX4oZ_wJiklqitAb79uvJ5ILTZggCgTUd7qyY2DBFJqEE9uftsX1_9wsmV/s1600-h/inside+dame+candles.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNTJFCI2Oc0aKtJb1bO1h4wymiCSpIyCPmuzrk3gjjHm1Dif8ydF0LgrQdLVvg6HMpgq9Ih_rWLAnYkzpkaTxX4oZ_wJiklqitAb79uvJ5ILTZggCgTUd7qyY2DBFJqEE9uftsX1_9wsmV/s320/inside+dame+candles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433983332413510450" border="0" /></a><br />The stain glass windows were beautiful as well. Granted it was a rainy cloudy day, so you couldn't see their full potential. I really enjoy the concept behind the windows. Yes they are beautiful, but there were more reasons for them. They were used for the uneducated people who couldn't read. All you had to do was look at the windows and they were able to get the story that they were teaching. Really neat concept. The whole place was filled with sculpture and little nooks where you could stop and pray to the Saints (which I kinda find odd.... ). An interesting thing I found out about Notre Dame is that they were actually going to tear it down. Then Victor Hugo wrote the book <span style="font-style: italic;">The Hunchback of Notre Dame </span>and because of the enormous popularity of the book in France it spurred the historical preservation movement in that country and strongly encouraged Gothic revival architecture. Ultimately it led to major renovations at Notre-Dame in the 19th century. Much of the cathedral's present appearance is a result of this renovation. I loved learning that. One of my favorite authors saved one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjauZ75fEeWwiu2gmWAqJPL9c3h9QqRygTraokEXzGU1Y1Hsne7Bdn9dbxfHEilmVuYO5NRzqTRBbAOqNWj2oDomZt3DuivW_aCxRYq-WV3B9ZNEEG1GL2cDIHFAt2pU18NWA3zZ4ywRALQ/s1600-h/dennis.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjauZ75fEeWwiu2gmWAqJPL9c3h9QqRygTraokEXzGU1Y1Hsne7Bdn9dbxfHEilmVuYO5NRzqTRBbAOqNWj2oDomZt3DuivW_aCxRYq-WV3B9ZNEEG1GL2cDIHFAt2pU18NWA3zZ4ywRALQ/s320/dennis.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433985517798084402" border="0" /></a><br />This is one of the sculptures you see chiseled just outside of Notre Dame. It kinda made me laugh (Which I probably shouldn't since he is a Saint and I don't think the Catholics would appreciate that). This is Saint Denis. And yes, he is holding my head. His story is actually rather interesting. According to the stories, he was martyred by being beheaded and after his head was chopped off, Denis picked it up and walked six miles, preaching a sermon the entire way. That takes some talent really, not going to lie.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzcaWrHEiZgtUT12Cwuoj7Z6c6kEB87RL5BIrhH6l-RnyWPTlBgM7UcMW5yPQIP1o_3us08ZAp011EQdufCS6geIqjYMozNjGqrena5RvXgyIabuqBjTQCS2tXBGSvin6tv_PpEKyQ9NqI/s1600-h/louvre+tower.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzcaWrHEiZgtUT12Cwuoj7Z6c6kEB87RL5BIrhH6l-RnyWPTlBgM7UcMW5yPQIP1o_3us08ZAp011EQdufCS6geIqjYMozNjGqrena5RvXgyIabuqBjTQCS2tXBGSvin6tv_PpEKyQ9NqI/s320/louvre+tower.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433986990996300226" border="0" /></a><br />Finally, I got to my last place on my list for the day. The Louvre. Oh how happy I was to be there. Not only was it a place devoted to art, but it was dry and warm!!! I actually ended up getting in free because if you are under 28 and living in the EU, you were free! How I wish I lived closer and could go anytime. Soon everyone who worked there would know me by name, and I would be able to go around and not get lost. In all honesty I had NO idea where I was most the time. I just kept walking and looking at everything. I took some pictures of some of my favorite pictures there. I don't actually know who painted them sadly or who painted them... I will be researching that and will have to get back to you on that.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCf5xPJUfRnvOPWDiDEf5ol21StASZ94U2xTrcdH4EETTiU1-8FZ7wQSlYehi4jobIM5U165jzE-TqijGI8phVv0sGeGYiS4LSN638zoCvEHI1ZcpVRGLYtToCRMF1jP02d_xZauXKndXX/s1600-h/louvre+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCf5xPJUfRnvOPWDiDEf5ol21StASZ94U2xTrcdH4EETTiU1-8FZ7wQSlYehi4jobIM5U165jzE-TqijGI8phVv0sGeGYiS4LSN638zoCvEHI1ZcpVRGLYtToCRMF1jP02d_xZauXKndXX/s320/louvre+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433987166485840786" border="0" /></a>There is so much lost in this picture it is sad! Stupid camera! Can't capture the beauty. Ah!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDVU6c3p5BAD39eACYZTG3l3PkBN8YRhuKZtbAlw8S-BvOUJSM60wTRpy2cjPJhhZ5BRHw1puzzFPD8MZ8lqrFktpFPvMeYcMPhWLV0PmY42mH3-VzrUwcDtDqbG0Iy-PLMhJ6D-9Kr5C/s1600-h/louvre+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDVU6c3p5BAD39eACYZTG3l3PkBN8YRhuKZtbAlw8S-BvOUJSM60wTRpy2cjPJhhZ5BRHw1puzzFPD8MZ8lqrFktpFPvMeYcMPhWLV0PmY42mH3-VzrUwcDtDqbG0Iy-PLMhJ6D-9Kr5C/s320/louvre+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433987373688260322" border="0" /></a>I just really like this. She seems so at peace and lovely. These painters have some amazing skills.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC-HQXlgGDRWOSZ5xvdwJkD4Xs1GmTtOFfA5CDiirotHYxbYa1btiLc-oE6YeaZ_UNttBgpC9rNaCb_Qt1cMSuS4veMPQAbEW7845XqSgi7EhftBkXUDOEEMnhnxCfrghJ5mbn_R7RKtEZ/s1600-h/louvre+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 295px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC-HQXlgGDRWOSZ5xvdwJkD4Xs1GmTtOFfA5CDiirotHYxbYa1btiLc-oE6YeaZ_UNttBgpC9rNaCb_Qt1cMSuS4veMPQAbEW7845XqSgi7EhftBkXUDOEEMnhnxCfrghJ5mbn_R7RKtEZ/s320/louvre+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433987587521131010" border="0" /></a>A painting just of hand(ok there is a little arm there too). I can't draw hands still so painting them like this is just beyond talent in my book!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFsFjrX4fozJFes43XkNwNBBDn__VHKpiceGTqGBSf1U2IdE-dtZfAcTcdgyXRIEz9DWiGmZ-PQ4PasaMSLFBh6CrHSHhuOr8ejwlgVTR-s56DLytCpTSPgsEqO4CZ4jLb8cNE8ETFCn9/s1600-h/french.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFsFjrX4fozJFes43XkNwNBBDn__VHKpiceGTqGBSf1U2IdE-dtZfAcTcdgyXRIEz9DWiGmZ-PQ4PasaMSLFBh6CrHSHhuOr8ejwlgVTR-s56DLytCpTSPgsEqO4CZ4jLb8cNE8ETFCn9/s320/french.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433987751346776738" border="0" /></a>This painting reminds me of Les Miserables. Some people actually think that Hugo based the character Gavroche off of the boy on the right side of the woman. There is a lot of symbolism in this painting. LOVE IT!!<span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqqY74X_PnQ6FkEoEbau3v_wTCzPhZwQ4ndgb8hjMRQFFBaqRPIJEv163HFAvLbeAIF5Etx3b7mn7GgtgYXXp4LNGgXl1BbohuGIMteFiuMwr24Xs0mylNYmbWjxBAzmgVc19LcxG4Y_wU/s1600-h/teenage.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqqY74X_PnQ6FkEoEbau3v_wTCzPhZwQ4ndgb8hjMRQFFBaqRPIJEv163HFAvLbeAIF5Etx3b7mn7GgtgYXXp4LNGgXl1BbohuGIMteFiuMwr24Xs0mylNYmbWjxBAzmgVc19LcxG4Y_wU/s320/teenage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433987925098644322" border="0" /></a>I actually laughed when I saw this. It is hard to tell but the girls face was a typical teenage girl face. To me it looked like she was rolling her eyes and thinking "Why me!? Life is awful and my parents are monsters." Apparently teenage girls have always been the same.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3BuORVAtW8kKvUnI1CwWeUVsdqeJhyofcp6EhMUqJJ3CqSuNzAWwf3rGJsiR46gbbDjcYyuiovpAxVSL2i-IvitN5WlSzKqbh3iCDfrnKQdERWcWa4NVO-NY1CfmXVvFtD-igv4muiVG/s1600-h/monks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3BuORVAtW8kKvUnI1CwWeUVsdqeJhyofcp6EhMUqJJ3CqSuNzAWwf3rGJsiR46gbbDjcYyuiovpAxVSL2i-IvitN5WlSzKqbh3iCDfrnKQdERWcWa4NVO-NY1CfmXVvFtD-igv4muiVG/s320/monks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433988245243267154" border="0" /></a>There was just something so peaceful about this painting. All over it, everyone is helping each other. Monks are helping each other over obstacles, and they are also helping this woman and her child. Just a lot of helping<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyWiIO66S2F0Gnkq7jrGzm_om4M3BZucv8XERI0378kMUCQRNDALyWi_-OMKmqlWd9PbD9SNdIEkcBpsD4UEm3RTlZwGhDhrHA5IA78NCCIS5D9tukTLKnl8om-m5RS2Yh7dn-t-zGvUK/s1600-h/mona.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyWiIO66S2F0Gnkq7jrGzm_om4M3BZucv8XERI0378kMUCQRNDALyWi_-OMKmqlWd9PbD9SNdIEkcBpsD4UEm3RTlZwGhDhrHA5IA78NCCIS5D9tukTLKnl8om-m5RS2Yh7dn-t-zGvUK/s320/mona.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433988069280188034" border="0" /></a>Of course, I saw the Mona Lisa. I actually saw it first cause I wanted to get it out of the way. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to see it, I just didn't feel like dealing with people (on my way there random tall guy was trying to talk to me, which annoyed me cause I was trying to look at art. Obviously he didn't know me. Anyone who knows me knows how I get kinda lost in a different world when it comes to art). People say the Mona Lisa is disappointing in real life. And it is. But the only reason I think that is, is because unlike all the other painting, sculptures, and other works of art which are right there and you could actually touch them (if you wanted to get shot), the Mona Lisa is placed about 10 feet behind a rope and in bullet proof glass. Since it is also a rather small painting, you really can't see anything from that far away. I think that is actually more of the problem and why people are disappointed with it a lot of the time.<br /><br />After a few hours of walking in the Louvre, sadly I had to call it quits. I had walked that day at least 8 miles, been going non stop for 12 hours (except for that little break I had at Notre Dame.) I was going off of maybe 4 hours of sleep, and I had probably walked a few more miles inside of The Louvre. I was in MASSIVE amounts of pain. I actually went to go take a vicodin and realized something. I was going to have to figure out how to take the metro to where I was staying... I couldn't afford to be a little loopy. Who knows where I would have ended up.... So I sucked it up and got on the train. I was headed to my friend Lior's families house. They were kind enough to let me stay with them and I really do appreciate their hospitality. I would also like to mention that before I went into the Louvre I changed into a skirt because my pants were soaked, and I was pretty much walking around in mud inside my shoes. Which would be why I still have the biggest blisters of my life! I froze wearing a skirt and ballet flats, but sadly it was warmer than my wet pants. I was so tired when I got to the house, that I just crashed. I was dead to the world! It was one of the longest, most taxing, but also most amazing days of my life!Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-9296907238029140822010-02-02T01:33:00.001-08:002010-02-02T06:06:39.198-08:00My trip to Paris... Well at least the trip there :)I can't remember the last time I was this sore, tired, or had this big of blisters on my feet. But all in all, I LOVED my trip.<br /><br />It is funny that it all started with a train ride after institute. Something so simple and normal, ending with me going to Paris. Paris! The place I had dreams about going to. It has always seemed like just a place they created in the movies. Not a real place, just a magical world. Well, it is real and it was honestly magical.<br /><br />The train ride was a long one to say the least. The ride from Frankfurt to Paris usually only takes, depending on the train, around 3 hours. All together I was in transit for 11 hours. I took a train to Stuttgart, Germany and had to wait 2 hours for the connecting train. Being hungry, I caved and got me a Big Mac and fries. They were so good, more so the fries. The effect after eating them was not so good. I don't remember the last time I ate fast food, let alone the last time I had McDonald's. I was sick for a bit, but was ok by the time my train came.<br /><br />After the train arrived and I figured out where I was suppose to go, I found my compartment and went in. The first thought that came to my mind was "Oh crap, what did I get myself into?". In the compartment were three guys. Now when I say that, I am not meaning it was me and three young cute guys. I mean they were at least 35-40 years old. Two of them were French. I will admit at this point French people scare me. I had heard so many stories about French people and how rude they were and such. The third guy was from Egypt, and he started talking to me, and I was trying hard to hear him because the train was loud and he had a thick accent. I soon gave up really listening since I quickly realized he just liked to talk.<br /><br />Our train ride seemed to be even longer because it would randomly stop, and go back the way we came. It had to drop off compartments along the way, so it would pull into the station, then pull back out the way it came. To say it was annoying would be an understatement. This did have its perks though. The French guys, who only spoke French and a TINY bit of English, kept trying to understand what was going on. I was just dying laughing watching the three guys trying to make each other understand with hand motions and mouth noises. Fantastic! The French were saying this wasn't a French Train because it was so slow, and the Egyptian was saying it wasn't a German train because those are fast too. Then they were trying to decide who the train was being conducted by, and decided that it must be a Japanese train.<br /><br />Around 4 am we decide we are tired and should get a little sleep. I try to curl in a ball and fall asleep, but Ki Ki (one of the French guys) moves to the side with the other two guys on it, and tells me to stretch out and sleep. Sweet guy. Then in the middle of the... night? Not sure what phrase to use for that, Oz (the other French guy) put his coat on me because it got kinda cold and I was using my coat for a pillow and didn't want to use it as a coat. When I woke up they shared their chocolate with me too. At one point in time Oz was actually laying on the bottom half of my legs (since I was still stretched out at this point), and it was funny how close we became even without speaking the same language.<br /><br />When we got off the train, they Ki ki carried my bag for me, and then walked me out of the station. On parting, Oz gave me his number and said we should all go out for a drink while I was in Paris. I told him I didn't drink, and he decided we should just go see sites then. He gave me his number and email address, but I found out later I couldn't call because I didn't know how to make it work. I was busy the whole trip anyways, but I hope I can reach them through email. Ki ki sized me up when we were all standing there talking, and informed me in our weird way of communication that I was too tall for him (I was his height) and that I was just a baby :) I will never forget those guys. They were sweet and made my trip great from the start.Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-78348704745214066432010-01-24T13:10:00.001-08:002010-01-24T14:46:09.744-08:00Playing in a cemetery?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfoCor4kEOY8HStMdyMOANRo7keIGXyGe82bfnqyACICif2MwAOIa72fJ0qpj3j3H1A5WTNKEkNnQesbRnv_C1se617QGBGqScne9iM3DG-eJ9XdAhPqhp4E6b9NAG1nL7VNThhKP-Xwq6/s1600-h/grave+stone+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfoCor4kEOY8HStMdyMOANRo7keIGXyGe82bfnqyACICif2MwAOIa72fJ0qpj3j3H1A5WTNKEkNnQesbRnv_C1se617QGBGqScne9iM3DG-eJ9XdAhPqhp4E6b9NAG1nL7VNThhKP-Xwq6/s320/grave+stone+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430436857163248978" border="0" /></a>I have always had this strange fascination with cemeteries. Not in the creepy way, but I always wonder what that persons life story was. What they did. Who they loved. What they wanted in life. What made them who they are.<br />On my trip into Frankfurt this weekend, I passed by the Hauptfruedhof, which is a big cemetery here. I had tried to go into it once before, but I got there at twilight, and well honestly... I had read Dracula for a bit right before... Not a good mix. Yes I know it is a fictional story, but my imagination has way too much fun with these kinds of things. I got there on Saturday and there was plenty of light, and it was actually quite calming there. The big stone walls surrounding the cemetery blocked out almost all of the city noise, which was shocking. There were birds chirping in the trees and there were very few people in it. It was really peaceful. I enjoyed my stroll, wondering about the stories of the peoples who's graves surrounded me.<br />I was confused every once in a while because there were green stickers slapped onto some of the head stones and I had no idea why. When I asked someone later I was informed that when you are buried, you get the lot for 30 years and then have to pay. If you don't pay, they move your bones.... The conversation got distracted at that point, so I am not sure where the bones go then. It was just odd to me. You are dead. Yet you have to pay later... Strange system.<br />For the record, Hauptfruedhof is a HUGE cemetery. I ended up walking clear towards one side, and in all honesty I was rather tired. I had been longboarding the city for about 5 hours and then walking in the cemetery. I got to one end, only to realize that I was going to have to walk all the way back out, then along the side of the cemetery past where I currently was. Way too much backtracking for me to be ok with... so.. I hopped the fence. I got a few funny looks, but there was not a chance I was walking all that again. My country upbringing worked well that day.<br />When I started making this blog, I just wanted to put up some pictures. That is my main thing today. I had fun playing with photoshop on them, and I love to share all the random things I see. So welcome to Frankfurt :)<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh587IPV6R4-aIHeDwv-Pxb55k7y9smZn9g2spnaZE8MKiwrWMOs1Jo0h2IUiI2XUZZkjrsLatFORiRb1aJeVVYePxZIaOlTmGxUAQk5JGSJGaHkI-I7eDtKvUM_mcH2CtJt6mGXNQgnRFX/s1600-h/ludwig+tomb2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh587IPV6R4-aIHeDwv-Pxb55k7y9smZn9g2spnaZE8MKiwrWMOs1Jo0h2IUiI2XUZZkjrsLatFORiRb1aJeVVYePxZIaOlTmGxUAQk5JGSJGaHkI-I7eDtKvUM_mcH2CtJt6mGXNQgnRFX/s320/ludwig+tomb2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430436656604136354" border="0" /></a>This is a Ludwig Mausoleum. I wanted to go inside of it, but when I opened the door it kinda freaked me out... Was reading Dracula again... Love the book too much!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2uxTNxvy1Am3zj4Jaqk_qyEqsKuBAQExMtt1wIm4KpvT-tttFhtz-q0tlUJNvVhJY__fB4mBxa-w9HEZwY6nyc_D1sOSiN6IFeXP7MkoeEt-iO_x6gMczL4gwda478WTXrJO7B3kQO1LI/s1600-h/ludwig.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2uxTNxvy1Am3zj4Jaqk_qyEqsKuBAQExMtt1wIm4KpvT-tttFhtz-q0tlUJNvVhJY__fB4mBxa-w9HEZwY6nyc_D1sOSiN6IFeXP7MkoeEt-iO_x6gMczL4gwda478WTXrJO7B3kQO1LI/s320/ludwig.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430436496653242674" border="0" /></a>This is the door on the mausoleum. See, creepy!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ttXcmeV4VvGjSLGWYCw4ZeIZc5YITxnzNeQp7aUVKkZOkaAQBv-SLt79IdBSSobfsCJeJSR7dV9nk6HmcJXaB7Kc8jyA20wKaOmo-jTn9RNNTxzoJhQTotcRB47zcsEiEcbQsbeoLMTZ/s1600-h/bridge+fra.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ttXcmeV4VvGjSLGWYCw4ZeIZc5YITxnzNeQp7aUVKkZOkaAQBv-SLt79IdBSSobfsCJeJSR7dV9nk6HmcJXaB7Kc8jyA20wKaOmo-jTn9RNNTxzoJhQTotcRB47zcsEiEcbQsbeoLMTZ/s320/bridge+fra.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430436329325196194" border="0" /></a>A bridge :) Just making sure you got that!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR4iIZ4xReYpORhcYAo-SjLbiCN5_8HWPNJz51x6a4rvZk7LjqJYNe9ubx1Wt-n-xLYQYndRLV8UswqaidvKLzsfR0dVKLc3j59_x13BdPPQAILRDdaS9wJOpguFbPHbcjVLaLDxpA9mB1/s1600-h/bird+lady.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR4iIZ4xReYpORhcYAo-SjLbiCN5_8HWPNJz51x6a4rvZk7LjqJYNe9ubx1Wt-n-xLYQYndRLV8UswqaidvKLzsfR0dVKLc3j59_x13BdPPQAILRDdaS9wJOpguFbPHbcjVLaLDxpA9mB1/s320/bird+lady.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430436197066266386" border="0" /></a>This would be the Bird Lady... She made me laugh.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqU6ZlCHZNzGMIz8Lv2p4e8r2C5wkVrkK_fn6YH8-mGIS6b-WWdMrmF2e1b-SyKG0kbJXt4DY9xqFqaKFObpCTlb_TOvl3RUUazIzzzR-2sxW54-gVSZhuaRxrO76EmjD4FPYgJ4zjn_E9/s1600-h/swap+market.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqU6ZlCHZNzGMIz8Lv2p4e8r2C5wkVrkK_fn6YH8-mGIS6b-WWdMrmF2e1b-SyKG0kbJXt4DY9xqFqaKFObpCTlb_TOvl3RUUazIzzzR-2sxW54-gVSZhuaRxrO76EmjD4FPYgJ4zjn_E9/s320/swap+market.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430436043087587090" border="0" /></a>I found a random swap meet, there were some... odd things there. I got there right as they were closing down, but I would love to go back and explore sometime!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJlrbI7N55H9ikIbcQ26Y_KxLkXpoFmhLvXq9SwuoRzjoAnbsFfUh1NUuwAGtMSWXzwXft4OyKKU216Z3cQYSxPkCoprgetwYJ3ybBum9e033UswNO-zaesf8T3prao_40ey6SWxAowUNq/s1600-h/swap+meet+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJlrbI7N55H9ikIbcQ26Y_KxLkXpoFmhLvXq9SwuoRzjoAnbsFfUh1NUuwAGtMSWXzwXft4OyKKU216Z3cQYSxPkCoprgetwYJ3ybBum9e033UswNO-zaesf8T3prao_40ey6SWxAowUNq/s320/swap+meet+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430435867608116114" border="0" /></a>Can I please get my shoes at a swap meet?! (insert sarcasm here)<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-uwWJYPjrPixmn7TJc_CzvtDxplENu8ACYJ6RZbE2sxQLvjBOibhAFx0ZdZUfO94edOLVehdpF9Q9G-1XgYRYl7cuJQPRjcvBJRgIyfcNzF8ebQO_rDTRFYhMO7Sj7PRNZ_BCct-kx_Zr/s1600-h/no+idea.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-uwWJYPjrPixmn7TJc_CzvtDxplENu8ACYJ6RZbE2sxQLvjBOibhAFx0ZdZUfO94edOLVehdpF9Q9G-1XgYRYl7cuJQPRjcvBJRgIyfcNzF8ebQO_rDTRFYhMO7Sj7PRNZ_BCct-kx_Zr/s320/no+idea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430435645007707762" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I have no idea what so ever about what this is. It was there, I laughed, so I took a picture. That is the story of this guy :) Hope you enjoyed the lovely tour and I will be back next week with pictures of Paris :D<br /></div>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-19808098021773827802010-01-22T10:56:00.000-08:002010-01-22T11:42:38.363-08:00Sledding on a castle hill....Yup... That is when you know you are in Europe. Last weekend I went on a lovely trip with my host family to Kassel, Germany. It is about 2 1/2 hours North of me, but let me tell you, that last half hour felt like forever! That would be because I was in the back in between two overly large car seats in an already small car. The trick to getting in was wedging your hips in and leaning forward at the same time... It was interesting but fun.<br />We got there Friday night and we stayed with Mattius's sister. Mattius thinks it is the most amazing thing that I don't drink so pretty much any chance he gets he tells people I don't drink, usually in an excited kind of way. Not like I am a freak at the circus, merely a side show :) It is all in good fun and it makes me laugh because I don't have to understand German to understand when he is telling people. Their shocked faces says it all.<br />It was especially entertaining this time. On hearing I don't drink, there was the shock, followed by a "but this is only juice" explanation. "It only has 2 % alcohol." And that my friends, is German juice :)<br />Dinner was divine can I just say!!! We used a raclette grill<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JC4ZaBU7cQYE5JPynNsD3wi7ssVZYYtgomeIZk1bMyoS0RPn1GbOwoitAzWZqLLIZcCJOJVlLO7PborqQexk9CJDQmX3V5QDUx_3lK8TGO9GgDlbTAjHXBpgBkzYSwfzUlqBMjUKhk4n/s1600-h/raclette+grill.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 220px; height: 220px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JC4ZaBU7cQYE5JPynNsD3wi7ssVZYYtgomeIZk1bMyoS0RPn1GbOwoitAzWZqLLIZcCJOJVlLO7PborqQexk9CJDQmX3V5QDUx_3lK8TGO9GgDlbTAjHXBpgBkzYSwfzUlqBMjUKhk4n/s320/raclette+grill.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429643445064847442" border="0" /></a><br /><br />it was delish! You put things on top to grill, and below you mix things like pineapple, ham, bell peppers, and onions, then top it off with a slice of cheese and put it under the grill to warm up and melt the cheese. I want one of these and someday I will have one!!<br />Nikki also started doing something at dinner. She had me memorize how to say 5 things at the table. So now I have ananas(pineapple), paprika(bell peppers), Zwiebeln(onions), Karofeln(potatoes), and Käse(cheese) ingrained into my brain. You may be thinking, how are those words going to help you? Funny enough they helped the next day.<br />We went to a birthday party where I ate... Ok I don't know the name of a single thing I ate. All I know was that it was so yummy!!! I... I love the food here (granted there are still a few things I can't quite bring myself to eat yet...)! The only problem at this party... I was the only English speaking person there. Oh well. I just listened a lot to the conversations. There was one conversation where I only caught three words. Mom, Dad, and... wait for it... Potatoes. Yup. Potatoes. No idea why, all I know was that I knew that word and I felt rather happy about that fact.<br />After the party we went sledding. Everyone else seemed to find it totally normal, but me, I was in awe. We were sledding at a castle!!! Things like that just don't happen back in the states, for obvious reasons, but still!<br />It was the castle of Napoleon Bonaparte's brother. That guy was crazy! He spent more money partying and building thing for his entertainment than Napoleon did with the fighting and such. He bathed in red wine (which is why people in Kassel wont drink wine, because apparently they re-bottled the wine... yum.), and he also built castle ruins around the castle. There are places that look like old castles that are falling apart and have some medieval story about them, when in fact he just built them cause he thought it was cool. It was a very interesting place and I would LOVE to go back when it is green and not so cold!<br />Since we were still in Kassel on Sunday, I found a branch there are joined them. Relief Society had a total of... 5 women when it started. Me included. They even had me say the opening prayer, they told me it would be ok to do it in English since I can't pray in German (this is a total German ward, not like my happy little English in Frankfurt). It was a nice lesson, I think. I enjoyed it. They also gave me the manual in German. I may start taking that with me to church so I can connect things. Could work right?<br />Then in Sunday School there were about 7 of us total there. It was really funny because the opening prayer was in German, and when the teacher has us all read a lot of scriptures in order, she had us read them in whatever language we could. So it went like this- German, German, English, German, English, Romanian, German. It was fantastic! The teacher knew I only spoke English so every once in a while she would translate what she just said for me. She was a sweetheart and I really appreciated it a lot. The class closed with a prayer in Romanian, and since I had to leave so we could head home, I left after that. I really wished I could have stayed. I have picked up a liking to singing in German. No, I don't sing any better that I do in English, I just get to laugh even more at myself for it all. I am going to work on it more, so then I can come home and sing in German. Just to mess with people.<br />That about sums everything up, oh except that I went longboarding here today and it was fantastic! The looks I got from people were amazing. There aren't people who skate here all that often. When you do see someone with a board, I have yet to see one for the record, apparently they just hold them and walk around. Sort of as a coolness status. That is what I hear at least. People on the roads kinda freak out and don't know what to do. I don't get it. I take up the same amount of space, if not less, than a bike. They understand that, what is the big deal? No I am not going to dart out in front of you, I like life thank you very much. Maybe by the end of my year here they will finally be use to it. It is a pretty small town so that is plenty of time to get over the fear of a little longboarder.<br />The thing that cracked me up the most during my ride was this guy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWUykGzCugtuFVMsMlgD5Qu-Sw-SripWDzw6ZKvgHSsq7G2-boBfWUW48vHNzi6pqqhvcXbds84nQUph2ecs15LVEc34FhY-wjz6TVtC31Pxs9QXKAPcovV_sVqxiS5DYRpKJ6xGK3faqp/s1600-h/DSCI0001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWUykGzCugtuFVMsMlgD5Qu-Sw-SripWDzw6ZKvgHSsq7G2-boBfWUW48vHNzi6pqqhvcXbds84nQUph2ecs15LVEc34FhY-wjz6TVtC31Pxs9QXKAPcovV_sVqxiS5DYRpKJ6xGK3faqp/s320/DSCI0001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429651151085343698" border="0" /></a><br />It is a cop on a horse, I tried to get a picture of him chillin at the stop light, but I wasn't fast enough. People didn't freak out about a horse walking down the street. They politely didn't run him over. Is it me, or is a horse stopped at the light more odd than a longboarder? Keep in mind this is not a little farm town. Horses aren't normal like in Lehi and Cedar Fort. I don't get it, but I can handle my own. I understand they don't know how to deal with me, so I am easing them into seeing me around. I can't wait to take my board with me to other countries too! Paris here we come :D<br /><br /><br /><img src="file:///C:/Users/Ludwig/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot-12.png" alt="" /><img src="file:///C:/Users/Ludwig/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot-11.png" alt="" />Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-5631311428596749132010-01-08T04:00:00.000-08:002010-01-08T04:20:21.146-08:00Losing yourself<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTO5Mh9VSNJD-QzZXC0k1ngvZOuG6vXtdI3anBUZM2gRBzlyZRlJeOIrFV9e55i1XMYGOw4bgf6WnRr2xIt5_dkLqSvvZdtPnobTOqcskwHTcaefLDgfyfBTrDj2LuZMIX2zSFJQB1vZ-c/s1600-h/PICT0006+%283%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTO5Mh9VSNJD-QzZXC0k1ngvZOuG6vXtdI3anBUZM2gRBzlyZRlJeOIrFV9e55i1XMYGOw4bgf6WnRr2xIt5_dkLqSvvZdtPnobTOqcskwHTcaefLDgfyfBTrDj2LuZMIX2zSFJQB1vZ-c/s320/PICT0006+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424337930084177698" border="0" /></a>There is just something so liberating about being lost in a foreign place.On the majority of my vacations and trips to places, one of my favorite things is to just walk around and lose myself in the city. It is my current pass time in Frankfurt really. I hop on the train, get to the Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof, and then hop on a random train. Then I decide when I want to get off, then start to explore the city from wherever I am and see when I can figure out where I am. I am getting pretty decent with it. I'm not exactly sure why it is, but it is so freeing. Knowing that you have no idea where you are and that it doesn't matter is great! Nothing else matters but where you are right then. It is like you have left behind yourself and it doesn't matter what is going on in life, you are free from everything that moment. I love it!<br /><br />Yesterday I went to institute and had a lot of fun. Of course it was all in German so I really didn't catch much of it... at all really... But I enjoyed trying. Every once in a while Emily would lean over to me and kinda tell me a little of what was going on so I would be able to connect the few words I know into what they could possibly be saying.<br /><br />I was enjoying listening to everything going on, when the teacher put us in groups and said we had to do something in five minutes. I looked to my group members to see what was going on, and was informed that we had to come up with examples from the Book of Mormon about times where there was delegation (Delegation was what the lesson was on). We talked it over a bit, then Emily looks at me and says that I am going to be the one telling about it. Say what?! I told her no, but the great thing about Emily, she doesn't listen to me sometimes (actually works out pretty well). Then she says something to the other guy in the group in German and he agrees. I know enough to know that she just told him not to say anything and this was all me. Luckily most the people in the class know English so I just said it in English. No biggie there.<br /><br />The Sister that was teaching the class then passed out quotes for us to read. The first time Emily snagged mine and read it. The second time, she decided I was ready to read German. This was the quote I got, "Einige werden nicht zu großen Führern, weil sie nicht gelernt haben, Weisungen zu befolge. nämlich die Lehren Jesu Christi. Damit wir also führen können, wie Jesus es getan hat, müssen wir zunächst lernen." (really good quote once you translate it. I had no idea what I said till I came home). I stumbled a bit, blushed a lot, but I got through it. Yet another example where Emily didn't listen to me when I was trying to be a little more shy. Thanks :)<br /><br />Afterwards it was really nice because one of the girls in the class came up to me and said, "You read that really well. Really. I am not being nice." It made me happy. I know I slaughtered a lot of the words, but you know what? I did it. They at least understood me to a degree and I appreciated it. Mark my words, I will be speaking German when I come home. It will be magical.Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-2519971263050246542010-01-01T15:22:00.000-08:002010-01-01T17:39:03.057-08:00A photo tour of my life as I know it<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeIA2PcqEVuUEe-hqGTgCQAW63ETcBz2l9CzUxLXSDVf4MnIexOWSDYt2VfFKXaC-jKWd2Sin5Jl8hLLK4j6ME2x6EzpbOZWRx7Ad-oM7PPrlSry071c9-qVFZR8hPz52Hepjhvt_sD4BH/s1600-h/PICT0017+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeIA2PcqEVuUEe-hqGTgCQAW63ETcBz2l9CzUxLXSDVf4MnIexOWSDYt2VfFKXaC-jKWd2Sin5Jl8hLLK4j6ME2x6EzpbOZWRx7Ad-oM7PPrlSry071c9-qVFZR8hPz52Hepjhvt_sD4BH/s320/PICT0017+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421926608520524962" border="0" /></a><br />So this blog is mainly dedicated to picture. I do have a little input, but they say a picture is worth a thousand words so it wont be a lot. And before I forget to mention something, I now know how I have made foreign people feel. While at the grocery store I was checking out, the lady said something to me I didn't understand for obvious reasons. It was German. I informed her IN German that I didn't speak German, so what does she do? She speaks slower. Still in German. I just looked at her with an expression that knows no boundaries of language. My face screamed "Lady! I just told you I don't speak German. WHY would you explain it again?!". It was interesting to see the flip side of this.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeVyNbp5K3RKYGlb_OCTabuQMEeO9Xhq5iLm12QMhumkMtErDLhmLoCC21EovrofgmsJkeIO4l8nV5zSAaEA8zuuCa464BEB65J64uWnNNJxAoT9AhdJEcbkl2zzSJDearfFuTscQ5aQWV/s1600-h/frankfurt2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 140px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeVyNbp5K3RKYGlb_OCTabuQMEeO9Xhq5iLm12QMhumkMtErDLhmLoCC21EovrofgmsJkeIO4l8nV5zSAaEA8zuuCa464BEB65J64uWnNNJxAoT9AhdJEcbkl2zzSJDearfFuTscQ5aQWV/s320/frankfurt2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421917429605525682" border="0" /></a><br />This is an awful cropping of pictures... deal with it till I have the time to fix it. This is Frankfurt, taken across the Main (pronounced mine) River. This is when it was a lovely 13 degrees outside and I was on my 8 km (5mile) bike ride.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFKrDAbd-dB_0iRxnAAh6GfMR3z-OYI4cikOEnl2PVU_b2MGlffL9OoV6tXp0A5hu1HT7eUdAs4rIeYDk_mfc5yAJK54xNSYOmssOafkSx2nM9JXJj6SUNt5xHsFH4dDEJuI2cJffFtBvc/s1600-h/PICT0004+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFKrDAbd-dB_0iRxnAAh6GfMR3z-OYI4cikOEnl2PVU_b2MGlffL9OoV6tXp0A5hu1HT7eUdAs4rIeYDk_mfc5yAJK54xNSYOmssOafkSx2nM9JXJj6SUNt5xHsFH4dDEJuI2cJffFtBvc/s320/PICT0004+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421921624013037730" border="0" /></a>This is the man selling Bratwurts on the Zeil. I am still entertained by this.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoO5hkHDXkfHazENp8j5in79jqppOCH6yndR9F6u4B5O5THsk2ib5-QxkjXG2lNiemDP45pZGSIXvC14702WKl9Y61dGoumHOT2eFYos8OcY-ZM5jAAUb1krcW9P2W4FZPt9FPPpU5UXon/s1600-h/PICT0006+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoO5hkHDXkfHazENp8j5in79jqppOCH6yndR9F6u4B5O5THsk2ib5-QxkjXG2lNiemDP45pZGSIXvC14702WKl9Y61dGoumHOT2eFYos8OcY-ZM5jAAUb1krcW9P2W4FZPt9FPPpU5UXon/s320/PICT0006+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421922635540994002" border="0" /></a>This is one of my favorite cathedrals, the Dom Cathedral. It is one of the few to survive WW2 bombings. It is beautiful on the inside but it always creeped me out when I would turn the corner after seeing beautiful sculptures of angels, to see a grotesque one of Christ. It makes me sad how they try and scare you into being religious.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRA-wdJ6lW4YZdXk3Uk3nEcMVgg9wfK6gc60vhHVHwbelHuuLInXiQh98KP1_iNvGxq3DY-jwjeAwp73twDRgLleqI5msIXQaPk72nkgp1-aGNE5kWV2cvvLFjRuOv4kAi0Ib2WwYgonRY/s1600-h/PICT0004+%283%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRA-wdJ6lW4YZdXk3Uk3nEcMVgg9wfK6gc60vhHVHwbelHuuLInXiQh98KP1_iNvGxq3DY-jwjeAwp73twDRgLleqI5msIXQaPk72nkgp1-aGNE5kWV2cvvLFjRuOv4kAi0Ib2WwYgonRY/s320/PICT0004+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421924166586094738" border="0" /></a>This is just funny to me. You are walking down the street, there are shops and modern buildings, there is even a Hilton down the street.... Then there is this. No idea what it is, but it has been made into some business and is still being used.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL9iXcfiV0OrEFIX78hNsz_jjoie6fYRZC90gRnnOVoJJtd3XGtexFI21gL8ElO-q5CUovIW-FQTFTHNlutLo7OgL4yIjUS34txXHm7OB1q_JAAeH6Rz9Oo86eZ_C_D0845ljrk04boLwE/s1600-h/PICT0005+%283%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL9iXcfiV0OrEFIX78hNsz_jjoie6fYRZC90gRnnOVoJJtd3XGtexFI21gL8ElO-q5CUovIW-FQTFTHNlutLo7OgL4yIjUS34txXHm7OB1q_JAAeH6Rz9Oo86eZ_C_D0845ljrk04boLwE/s320/PICT0005+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421924758474693474" border="0" /></a>I shouldn't be this entertained by the random pay phones... But I am. They are pink! Give me a break!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7WZ3nBl1Yus7beUm58_wKiA6DsisytveBnhEb0wuzb0FftLpE7-9S6v02lf23_i3Xmg7wahEyvUYnLnEMbz_erix22ZFLbAyehXaeMw0mACNCYG_eEjU6s0exmwzU5qx_qS5cYmU9x7I7/s1600-h/PICT0014+%283%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7WZ3nBl1Yus7beUm58_wKiA6DsisytveBnhEb0wuzb0FftLpE7-9S6v02lf23_i3Xmg7wahEyvUYnLnEMbz_erix22ZFLbAyehXaeMw0mACNCYG_eEjU6s0exmwzU5qx_qS5cYmU9x7I7/s320/PICT0014+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421925450773262530" border="0" /></a><br />This is another Church I think is beautiful. It is St. Peterskirche (St. Peters Church). This is where some random creepy guy tried to get me to go to a New Years Disco at his restaurant, kept shaking my hand, and did the cheek kiss thing enough times that he could smell my perfume. He may have 'accidentally' been hit with my umbrella a few times....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasQU3yWBbAVFVEEz-YaN-2u-Qs26DN9_Jh9R7dHQbcJB70Q70v90i7HAoNNJbnOorzga5e4lb0eDn6yqIpaIlXdfRI6vDHyh7zF9JC1Cjy3eVc_YzgC8lyk2AByWxBJYXS4cgcNn8B3eT/s1600-h/PICT0015+%283%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasQU3yWBbAVFVEEz-YaN-2u-Qs26DN9_Jh9R7dHQbcJB70Q70v90i7HAoNNJbnOorzga5e4lb0eDn6yqIpaIlXdfRI6vDHyh7zF9JC1Cjy3eVc_YzgC8lyk2AByWxBJYXS4cgcNn8B3eT/s320/PICT0015+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421925687066113058" border="0" /></a>This is in the grave yard surrounding St. Peterskirche. I had no idea what it was for, there are just a bunch of large nails in the wall and roses on them. When I got home I translated this. Verletzte Liebe means 'Hurt love' and I found out that every nail in the wall is for someone in Frankfurt who died of AIDS. Very interesting.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnLDROGNPVTFUXkR6SS3QqCuq_w84IInAHlISpoBXyQ2IZyA5Iaaw37sm5ruSioOmWNTr0GsnGpeVn57N1HrlR6b5fXRgN_zfRkR5eFb6ZNSox3-SWDu0t_tBcm6wLx43bvomUxHC0FMT/s1600-h/PICT0019+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnLDROGNPVTFUXkR6SS3QqCuq_w84IInAHlISpoBXyQ2IZyA5Iaaw37sm5ruSioOmWNTr0GsnGpeVn57N1HrlR6b5fXRgN_zfRkR5eFb6ZNSox3-SWDu0t_tBcm6wLx43bvomUxHC0FMT/s320/PICT0019+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421926048777614562" border="0" /></a>This is also in St. Peterskirche grave yard. I was able to read it when I took this picture... But I can't remember what exactly it says. I believe that it says "Here lies Goethe's Father" which I found kinda entertaining. Goethe is a HUGE thing here, and his dad is buried with that stone across him.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-3U8tEOY-8_jqWObizQ-7lhHLySUVrMZWS7c_k6Pbe7DHik90a81suM2xS3O64GbZ_1_3s5VHA15ez6gHcqCpA7HkvLbsBLBmD_Fa6U0X70bdO2m5uAQCkaPPyRNbAS4PH0axBZ09nos6/s1600-h/PICT0018+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-3U8tEOY-8_jqWObizQ-7lhHLySUVrMZWS7c_k6Pbe7DHik90a81suM2xS3O64GbZ_1_3s5VHA15ez6gHcqCpA7HkvLbsBLBmD_Fa6U0X70bdO2m5uAQCkaPPyRNbAS4PH0axBZ09nos6/s320/PICT0018+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421929959539578530" border="0" /></a><br />This is what Goethe's Fathers whole grave looks like. No idea what the rest of the head stone says... There are perks to having a famous son. You get a nice little gate around your grave and your headstone is kept nice and shiny. There were a lot of the headstones that were falling apart and were so covered in... Slime? Crusty stuff? Moss? That you couldn't read them, which was sad.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxbM7t5R-J26yLlWHuQa-aiOiCv_sESsVvYTXCdLiAuJtHFw-lqlKo3PjIRbWPHhIyaIv2SEw3syPXZ4M2OPmvlwcWX_UHVtOOeIFfqhyZk6PsVjZGHbx9tBNxTTlrvN-W5E_iuuFcTdRT/s1600-h/PICT0001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxbM7t5R-J26yLlWHuQa-aiOiCv_sESsVvYTXCdLiAuJtHFw-lqlKo3PjIRbWPHhIyaIv2SEw3syPXZ4M2OPmvlwcWX_UHVtOOeIFfqhyZk6PsVjZGHbx9tBNxTTlrvN-W5E_iuuFcTdRT/s320/PICT0001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421950771638183682" border="0" /></a>This is my Christmas tower I was talking about :) I love this thing!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2ARp6Cg5HtYJTsVWdsjGWRTBzUTzlnEFhOLFW3yt2DDXyFEHg9tZeVUpM5qfvJae9ZXkmt_UEDFHF0rutMpirfomXjm-5yHTxC0OFYrDr7zrmzVfxKEsTZIBBQT48YxSDjWMaZVPd6Qt/s1600-h/frankfurt.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2ARp6Cg5HtYJTsVWdsjGWRTBzUTzlnEFhOLFW3yt2DDXyFEHg9tZeVUpM5qfvJae9ZXkmt_UEDFHF0rutMpirfomXjm-5yHTxC0OFYrDr7zrmzVfxKEsTZIBBQT48YxSDjWMaZVPd6Qt/s320/frankfurt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421930770463640914" border="0" /></a>I didn't take this picture, I found it online. Now I know this looks awesome, but imagine this over the ENTIRE city! It was amazing! I got to play with big fireworks like these. Granted I almost blew us up because I was sticking one in the ground and was told to put it about 1 millimeter in the ground... I had no idea what he meant exactly by that, so I put it in a millimeter by my scales. Well... It was too far in so it just blew up right in front of us. Good times :) There was at one point in time where there was so much smoke from the fireworks around us at the park that I couldn't see more than 20 feet in front of me. Yeah... That is a lot of fireworks!<br /><br />Well that is all I have right now. I will find more things to take pictures of now that I have a functional camera and a blog that is not being stupid.<br />Tschüss!!!<br /></div>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-2387861025007207862009-12-30T14:08:00.000-08:002009-12-30T15:01:43.477-08:00The Christmas the kept going :DYes, normally I do update my blog on Sunday. This week was different because, well because I have started to get a life :) Since that is not where my week starts, you don't get to hear about it yet. The suspense just might get to you waiting!<br /><br />Not much of note happened the first couple days of the week. I made sugar cookies, since that is what one does when preparing for Christmas. What one usually doesn't do is stroll up and down the aisle looking at things in a foreign language trying to find something as simple as powdered sugar and baking powder. After much consulting with the trusty translator on my computer, I was able to find the baking powder and something that resembled frosting (it turned out that it was pretty much royal icing in a packet). I was later taught why I couldn't find the powdered sugar, it is in a box apparently. Didn't see that one coming. After a lot of messing around, translating items in the kitchen, and finding a way to make frosting without powdered sugar, the final result was delicious! I will prove that I can still cook my food even in a foreign country with strange ingredients.<br /><br />After much baking of sugar cookies and frosting, it was finally Christmas Eve. A family in my ward, the Manners family, invited me to share their Christmas. Tim and Michele were amazing and welcomed me into their home. Their children Makay, Riley, Spencer, Haydn, and Ashton were all fun to be around for this holiday as well. They took me to the ward Christmas party and there was a lot of beautiful singing and there and I sang along, trying to use my German. It was a little difficult because I was so focused on the words, trying to make the sounds, that I sometimes forgot to pay attention to the notes. It was all good because you all know that even if I had been paying attention to the notes, I still wouldn't have hit them :)<br /><br />It was nice to be in a house where Santa was real again. Where there were shouts of "RACHEL WAKE UP!!! IT IS CHRISTMAS!!!" that were not needed since I am still a little kid at heart and was already awake :) It was a lot of fun to watch them open their presents and play with them. Just the excitement of it all was a lot of fun. The Manners.. I mean Santa... Got me a few things that I really appreciated too. The main thing that made me happy was the very German Christmas tower decoration. I have been wanting one since the first time I saw them. They have a fan on top of the tower and below it there are different scenes depicting , in my case, the Christmas story with the angels and wise men and such. On the bottom there are six candles and when lit, the heat rises and makes the fan at the top move. When that moves, it rotates the scenes on the lower levels. I LOVE IT!!!<br /><br />Not only was the company great for Christmas.. but the food!!! Oh the food!! WARM AMERICAN FOOD!!! Ham, funeral potatoes, pumpkin pie, carrots, potatoes, yams (or sweet potatoes. the debate goes on), Roast beef (from American cows!), cookies, and more yummy things! I was in heaven! Good food, good company, all around an awesome Christmas.<br /><br />I went home on Saturday night and woke up bright and early Sunday to start the trip to Church. I seem to have the habit of leaving the house really early or rather late when it comes to catching my train. This time I thought I was late, got close, then realized I was ahead of schedule. So I decided to walk on the train tracks... I got some funny looks for doing that. Apparently that is not all that normal here. Meh :) After a nice little train ride, and then a nice little skate, I was back to the place where I understand things!!! Yay for English church! It is nice to feel the spirit AND know someone says to you. Great feeling.<br /><br />Right as sacrament was about to start, the couple next to me (McKenna and Josef) lean over and ask me what I am doing after church. After a quick mental run down of my plan for the day (go home, nap... read?) I say nothing and they invite me over for dinner. How fun! An outing! Once sacrament is over a lady in my ward asks me what my calling is, or more if I have an active one. I am currently in the activities comity. On hearing that she asked if I would be willing to substitute for her in the Young womens. SCORE! I told her I would love to! So next Sunday I am going to give a lesson to the entire YW... All four of them. It will be epic.<br /><br />This Sunday I also had to say goodbye to one of my favorite missionaries. Usually the missionaries are the only ones who talk to me at the institute and FHE stuff so I know them better than the other people there. It also helps that most of them know one of my favorite people back home. Elder Eaton called me a hippie cause I bike everywhere and then I took my longboard to church. It is called cheap not hippie :)<br /><br />Church was over and now I had a dilemma. I had my purse backpack thing, a bag, a longboard, and then a big ol box that contained my Christmas in it. Now how to get this home? I wasn't allowed to open the box until I got on skype so my mom could see. Mckenna saw me trying to figure out how to juggle this all since we were taking the train home. Bless her heart, she found us a ride to her place. It is a nice experience I rarely get these days. Ridding in a car.<br /><br />Once we got to their apartment, she offered to let me call my mom, tell her to wake up and get on skype so I could open the box. The plan worked out great except too many people wanted to see me open it, but only one could... it was crazy honestly. Finally I got it open and found an amazing site. PILLOWS! Real pillows! The pillows here are just sad. They look big and squishy, then you lay on them and you can't quite tell if there is actually a pillow still there. They also gum. Amazing Stride gum. YES! and then a bunch of random things from ring pops to a Barbie key chain. All in all I loved it! My little brother also sent me some rockin jewelry that I love!<br /><br />My Christmas finally over, I sat down and ate dinner with McKenna and Josef. They are a lot of fun! It was nice to just talk and enjoy the food and company. It is also fun because McKenna is from Orem, went to Timp and graduated in 2005, and was married in the Timp Temple. It is nice to have someone understand what I am talking about when I mention places or Utah things. I had fun talking to them about things like books (Josef works in a book store and said he would tell me where some amazing used books stores are in the city) and artsy things (McKenna is a photographer, you should check out her stuff! She is fantastic! http://makephotographie.blogspot.com/ ) After a nice meal and some fun games, we all went to the train station and they saw me safely on my train. They are so much fun and I am looking forward to getting to know them better.<br /><br />The past few days have been uneventful. I have been feeling a little sick so I really haven't done much... really... not a whole lot. I went and visited Susie before she left back for the states, and got milk. That is all. Other than that I have been reading (finished the 3rd HP book in a day....), researching and making notes of the places I want to go while I am in Europe, and playing with photo shop. I have been spending WAY too much time on photo shop, but I am having so much fun and I am not half bad. I want to learn more with it.<br /><br />So I think that catches me up. If I forgot anything, I am not likely to ever remember it so it is lost forever. Hopefully it wasn't too important.Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-7127696007150059252009-12-20T14:59:00.000-08:002009-12-20T16:24:55.517-08:00Sunday seems to be my blogging day.... So why not!?This week has been a fairly normal week. Almost got ran over by a bus, biked 5 miles to go shoe shopping, biked another 5 miles in 13 degree(F) weather, and found a street with my name on it. Ya know, normal :)<br /><br />Apparently people here are not really sure how to treat a person on a longboard. They understand how not to hit someone walking, or ridding a bike, but it seems to be rather difficult for them to grasp the concept of not trying to kill me. I was skating along, and mind you there is plenty of room on the road, and this bus pulls in from behind me, cutting me off. If I had not stopped, me and my board would be a lot closer than I would like to think about. I also get some funny looks after church when I am walking home in heels carrying my board. Who knows.<br /><br />Friday was the first day of my two week vacation, so I decided I needed to go and buy some boots. The little town I live in is rather expensive and the cheapest boots I found were 100 euros. Not happening. I talked to Nikki before she left and she wrote down a store name that would have better priced boots, and so like the way to find answers to everything in this world, I googled it. The nearest one was only 8 km away (no I had no idea what that really meant) and according to the walking directions it would take an hour and a half to walk it. Sun was shining, my hopes were high, so I decided to bike it. It was a rather enjoyable ride. Most of it was flat so it wasn't too bad. Only got lost a few times but I was some how miraculously able to find my way back(I thank The Big Man for that one!!!). I made it there in only about a half hour! I was rather proud of that fact, just so you know.<br /><br />Locking my bike up, I start to walk around and look at where I am. I can't find the shoe store I want, but there is just so much to see I eventually stop looking. Most cities here apparently have these areas where it is just a pedestrian zone and there are shopping places and bakeries there. I just kept going in and out of stores just looking. Finally I find shoes! There were some AMAZING ones, I just couldn't bring myself to buy them... I needed to stay focused and find that store. When I finally left the store I realized I was in the one I wanted. Ooops. Oh well, no boots that caught my eye. What did catch my eye though, was the euro store. It is the dollar store equivalent, but with things that are actually useful! Well.. mostly. I ended up getting a few things I ACTUALLY needed, and a few I may not have needed as much. Like the random scent thingy that is called 'Weihnachts zauber', which translates to Christmas magic. How could I not?!<br /><br />After a quick stop by the bakery to get me a buttered croissant and a donut thing (Which I quickly discovered had an apple type filling. What is with Germans and apples?!) I unlocked my bike and prepared to head home. I would like to add a little note here. When I left my house it was starting to snow slightly, and stopped right after I was out of town. Well, this storm had caught up with me by this time. Realizing that I was a panzie and that I had no desire to bike home in a snow storm... I took the train home. They are warmer.<br /><br />Still boot-less I decided to try again on Saturday. I pulled out my bike, got on the train to the Hauptwache in down town Frankfurt. The Hauptwache is a HUGE pedestrian shopping area with street vendors, street performers, and random guys under umbrellas selling bratwursts. I am trying to add pictures, but I seem to be having issues. Oh well. After a little shopping I not only had new boots, but also a new skirt. It is warm... So it works, right? :)<br /><br />Moving on I started to bike towards the Christmas market. I was worried I would take a wrong turn and be lost in the middle of a city where I couldn't tell you which direction was North or even which direction I lived. The great thing about the Frankfurt Weihnachtsmarkt is that it is HUGE!!! There is no way to miss it. I don't know how to explain it really. It is kinda like when you are at a county fair and there are all the little booths and they are all selling their own little things. Some of these booths had Christmas ornaments, jewelry, gloves and hats, there were even a few that had brushes. Not really sure why these brushes were so amazing but the people selling them sure made them look like you needed them and your hair would all fall out without them. I may never know, seeing how my German sucks and I have no idea what they were saying. I will just have to buy a wig when my hair is gone from the lack of using those brushes.<br /><br />That is about all that the Weihnachtsmarkt is. A county fair with a Christmas theme. They even had little kid rides, ok they only had a merry go round, but you get the idea. One thing that was NOT like a county fair was the drinks. Here they really like to drink their Glühwein, which is hot wine. They get the wine, put in a thing to warm it up, and they serve it. Usually they serve it in glass mugs too. You pay them like 5 Euros and when you give them back their glass they give you back 2 Euros. They are pretty eco friendly here. After a lot of searching I was finally able to find a place with hot chocolate and after much discussion got the woman to understand that I wanted it without the rum in it. I think she put the bendy straw in my drink to mock me. All the big kids with their Glühwein didn't have the straws. :)<br /><br />Feeling a little warmer and a bit more refreshed, I started on my way to the church for the ward Christmas party. I got a little distracted on the way by Saint Bartholomeus's Cathedral. It was completely stunning. It is 311 feet tall and I want to go back when I have time to go inside of it.<br /><br />Once I was no longer distracted by the beautiful cathedral I realized something. I was completely and totally freezing! I saw a sign with the temperature on it, -10 degrees Celsius. Not knowing exactly what that was in Fahrenheit, I caught on quickly that it was REALLY cold. When I got home I converted it. 13 degrees. No wonder. Realizing the faster I bike the warmer I get, I quickly start going. Even quicker I realize something else. That 5 mile bike ride the day before, apparently left me a little sore. Needless to say it took me a little longer than 30 minutes and there was some walking mixed in with it this time.<br /><br />Being sore may have sucked and made me walk more, but because of that fact I realized something at a random street corner. Checking to see where I was and make sure I was still in fact on the correct road I saw an amazing sign. It read 'Ludwig Strasse' which for all of you who don't speak German and don't realize what that simple sign would mean, it says 'Ludwig Street'. Quickly whipping out my camera, and getting a few strange looks from the locals, I take a picture of my street with pride. I love randomly finding my name here. It seems to happen a lot. It is like my last name is German or something... Weird.<br /><br />Finally I made it to the church, with my make-up running down my face as my eyes were watering from the cold. But I made it. I cleaned myself up and sat down, ready to have fun. Honestly the Christmas program was amazing. It was two wards combined, the international ward and the German one. So it started out with a prayer in English, then my bishop got up and spoke in English. It was then followed by a series of songs, some just instruments, others singing. There are some AMAZING voices in my ward. Completely phenomenal. Mixed in with those there were narrations telling the Christmas story. One lady would get up and say it in English, then another would stand and say it in German. Then when it all was coming to a close, the bishop in the other ward said some stuff in German, and then we had the prayer in German. It was a lot of fun.<br /><br />Then there was food. Oh amazing food! Normally I loath ginger bread, but I have discovered something. In Germany it actually tastes good! After a lot of good food and fun chats, I hopped on my bike, went a few blocks, and gratefully took the train the whole way home.<br /><br />So now I am back to Sunday. It was an amazing day. I loved the spirit at church today. It was so peaceful, loving, and the epitome of the Christmas spirit. Something did happen today that was out of the ordinary for me. I got my tithing all ready, put it in the envelope, sealed it, then realized something. In my wallet I had about 5 Euros... I needed 7 to get home... crap. I quickly say a little prayer and tell him I am going to trust him on this one. Maybe someone in the ward would give me a ride? That would work. Nope. I walked to the train station trying to figure out what was going to happen. I put my hands into my pockets to keep warm. There are some coins there. Slowly I start to pull them out, hoping they are 2 Euro coins... Nope. I now have about 50 more cents. Playing with them in my pocket I still don't see how I am going to get home. I go to the machine to buy my ticket. I decided to check my pockets again and see if by some Christmas miracle there was enough there. Slowly I pull out the coins. Nope. Still just 50 cents. Then I get this feeling that I should look in my little wallet that holds my credit cards and such. Sure enough, there was a 10 euro bill. THANK YOU!!! But my Christmas miracle doesn't stop there. I go to buy my ticket, and what do you know, all 4 machines are broken. I tried them all, and a few other people tried them, no avail. So I hopped on my train and headed home, with a huge smile on my face I might add.<br /><br />Normally that is where I stop telling stories, because nothing happens from the train station till I get home. Not today. The train was packed, every seat taken, and most the standing room filled as well. Across from me is a cute little old man that reminds me of my Grandpa Beazer. At one of the stops, right after the train stops moving, there is a loud crashing sound. Not a good thing to hear while sitting on the train. Then the lights go out. Not good. People are talking back and forth, and I still have no idea what is going on because for some reason everyone decided to speak German. Strange. Well the cute little old man starts talking to me in German. I had no idea what he was saying, so I just smiled and nodded like I do with my Grandpa (Granted I understand him) and tried to make him feel like I was listening because I really did want to understand him. The only word I caught was 'kaput' which is broken. Great word to catch. After about 5 minutes the lights come on and we start moving again without any other problems.<br /><br />After that I just walked home in 2 1/2 inches of snow and curled up in my nice warm bed after my long adventure. Then I had to use my translator on my computer to translate the directions to cook the lasagna. I tried to do it without it but the only word I could read was 'please' and that confused me more. Why was my food saying please?! After some translating I discovered that it was saying if I please I can cook it till the top is the crispy level I would like. Huh. That works. Well I survived another week in Germany and I am really looking forward to Christmas here.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Frohe Weihnachten und guten Rutsch ins neue Jahr</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-90294461237770050882009-12-13T06:29:00.000-08:002009-12-13T06:49:06.206-08:00My conversations are just smiles ;)So nothing too exciting this week has happened... Till yesterday! I had just a normal week but did get to go to the bakery and order some stuff. I tried this apple cake thingy... Which I am sure would be AWESOME if I could handle eating cooked fruit. I can't so I fed it to someone else :) There was this one thing, not sure of the name, but it tasted like a donut and had a slice down the top of it and was filled with custard stuff. Made my belly happy!<br /><br />Like I was saying earlier, things got more entertaining yesterday. We went up to Eppstein, which is maybe 10 minutes away? Anyways there was a Christmas market up there which was pretty interesting. This was apparently just a really small one, and there were just little stands selling random fun things. Everyone walks around drinking their hot wine (except me and the kids :) We had hot chocolate). All of this is at the base of a little castle, and it was really pretty and I liked walking around it. Oh and I also had my very first authentic German bratwurst. My life will never be the same. I will never be able to eat one in America again.<br /><br />After that I ended up going to a bar for Susie's(the current nanny here) farewell party. Man it was smoky! I was not prepared for that because that never really happens in Utah. Anywho, someone ordered my drink for me cause I didn't know how to say it. All it was is apple juice with a little bit of mineral water to make it bubble a bit. Actually pretty good. So I have fun mixing and mingling with the people there and all is grand. I do feel rather proud of myself though, I ordered my second drink all on my own! It took like 5 minutes of me saying it over and over to get it. I went up to the bar tender and asked for one "Apfelsaftschorle" and amazingly enough I didn't screw up and they understood me! YAY!<br /><br />The funniest part of the night was I was talking to a guy who I had just practiced saying the drink with, and he was like "So what is the deal with the Apfelsaftschorle?" Like there had to be something wrong with me for not drinking. I simply replied that I don't drink. His reply "I am sorry" Then we had fun laughing about it, and how I should become a designated driver and make bank! (Germans may drink, no doubt! But they don't drink and drive. So if I cost less than a taxi, BANK!) When I left that night.. I smelled like smoke totally and completely. I mean even my bra smelled smoky... That is intense! It was fun and I am glad I have that little memory.<br /><br />Today I went to church (Sadly with my jacket that smelled so lovely like a bar) and I really had fun! I really do love my ward already. They are all very welcoming and make me feel right at home. Oh! And I only had to take the train one way today, which I think I bought the wrong ticket... It was a lot cheaper than last week... hmmm... anyways, Anna from my ward drive me home today! It rocked so much! We had a fun conversation, she showed me where the embassy was, and I didn't have to figure out the train system backwards!Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-1838113478518401352009-12-06T08:59:00.000-08:002009-12-06T09:43:37.477-08:00Can I find church? Why yes, yes I can!Today is the first Sunday since I have been here and I was really looking forward to going to church. So I get online and see where it is. 20 minutes. No problem! That will be a breeze. Well since I don't have a car, things are a little more difficult. Not to be outdone, I decide to prove that I can do this. I do a little research and then ask someone who understand the train system better than I do how to get around. I am all set now. I wake up and leave the house at 8:30 in the morning and head to the station. Nikki was confused that I was leaving that early, so she asked me where I was going. When I told her she got this look on her face. The "Oh my the new nanny is going to get herself killed before being here a week" you know the look right? So I write down the number to the house, just in case and head out the door. (I would like to mention that I am on my longboard with my skirt and heels in my bag. ). I go to buy my ticket, I get it pretty much all ready... Then realize I don't know where to put the coins. Everywhere I have gone they gave me change back in euro coins... hmmm... ten minutes later I figured it out. Me-1 ticket machine-.05 (it did put up a decent fight, it deserves something)<br /><br />Feeling pretty good at this point, I am on the right train and I only have one more train to catch till I am there. I get to the main station and follow the directions I was told, and got a little confused. So I found a security/police man. Not sure really which one he is, but he helped me in my broken German, and by broken all I could do is look confused and say "Offenbach? S2?". Bless his soul he pointed me in the right direction.<br /><br />Well at this point I got REALLY confused on where I needed to be. There is a train coming... is it mine? Should I get on it? Should I wait? If I wait and miss it when will the next one come?! So I go up to a little old lady who, of course, doesn't speak English. Using my 'broken' German I start saying pretty much the same thing. "Offenbach Marktplatz? S-drei?" That sweet little old lady said a lot of things I didn't understand. I didn't actually understand a single word she said. Realizing that I didn't understand what she was trying to tell me, she walks onto the train that just pulled up and waves me in. HUGE step of faith getting onto that train. What if this crazy old lady didn't understand me in the first place?! Where would I be then?! So I follow her. She was right. She counted how many stops till mine and I got that part. Then she hopped of the next stop and carried on her merry little way. God bless that angel! I get off at the right station, skate for a bit, then see a sign that made my heart just fly out of my chest. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Visitors welcome. Granted it was in German, but all the same I knew the sign without reading it.<br /><br />Walking into the building was a little weird because I was in a pair of jeans with a tear in the knee, and carrying my board, but I was insanely happy to be there. I changed and then sat down to read my Ensign, when a missionary comes up to me. "Ich Heisse Elder something something" he says... I feel proud to say that I was able to respond with "Ich Heisse Rachel". The next thing out of his mouth is "oh you are from America?!". Why yes, Elder, yes I am. So we get to talking because he is from Iowa and it is all grand fun. Then I ask him if he knows one Chad Roberts who served his mission there. Small world, he does! So here I am, some 5 thousand miles away from home talking to someone who knows one of my favorite people! GREAT Sunday!<br /><br />Then I go and sit myself down and wait for church to start. It is crazy how many people came up to talk to me! I loved it! I felt the love they had for me already and the love of my Savior so strongly. I loved every single minute of it. It amazed me how many people took me under their wing today. I was given multiple pieces of paper with names, numbers, and addresses on it and told to call if I ever needed anything. These are some of the most amazing people I have ever met honestly. They made sure I never had to sit alone and that I knew where I was going. They even set me up with a ride home.<br /><br />After church there was a baptism for a little girl in the ward. I was debating staying or not, but that was decided by the fact my ride was staying. So I sat through it next to Anna, who I love! She just was fun to talk to and I enjoyed her company. Then like any Mormon function, there was food after. I had to ask a few times what I was about to eat. It worked out well though. <br /><br />Finally we are in the car headed home. It has been a great Sunday but all I want is my bed. They take me to the train station by their house which is only two stops from mine, I get out and buy my ticket and figure out when the next train is. I had just missed it, so I was going to have to wait an hour. AN HOUR!!! My head is just hurting at this point. All I can dream about is my bed! So we go back to their house (I can't remember their names right now... I know I should and I know it is right there, but I can't bring them up!) and we chill there for a bit and just talk. It was really nice and I did enjoy it.<br /><br />But it is all over now. I am home, on my bed, and deciding it 6 is too late for a nap or not. It has been a 9 hour Sunday ordeal, but it is over now. It was amazing and I loved and needed that, but I am ok with being home now. God is great. I love my life. And I decided it is never too late for a nap!!!Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-11294285324773768642009-12-06T08:49:00.000-08:002009-12-06T08:59:51.726-08:00Out into the unknown....So I went shopping today! It wasn't all that different, I just didn't find too amazing of deals and just looked funny at the people who would talk to me. I did feel pretty proud of myself because I went into a store all by myself and got what I needed. Rock on me! There is some random food here that I am really starting to love! This one thing.. It was kind of like a hashbrown pattie that is deep fried, and then you eat it with apple sauce. Going to take some getting use to but I kinda liked it. And the crepes, whoever thought that putting nutella in a crepe was GENIUS! My favorite food of the day though is something that I don't know the name of or how to really explain it.. The name translated is kinda racist. But since I didn't make it up and it is not derogatory I don't feel too bad. They are called negro kisses, well they use to be called that, but the guy translating didn't know what they are actually called now. He just calls them that because that is what they have always been to him. So these things are kinda like marshmallow cream, dipped in chocolate with different things on them (such as amaretto, mint, white and dark chocolate and so on). THEY WERE AMAZING!!! I could only eat one though, which made me sad. I wanted more! And a real glass of milk (Don't get me started on what they CALL milk here)Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355930953241158689.post-61083064280334499472009-12-06T08:44:00.000-08:002009-12-06T08:45:52.216-08:00Day one... Here we go!I have to say so far I am loving it here!!! I am pretty sure it is going to stay that way. The family is great and I really do enjoy them and we are quite similar. The flight here wasn’t too bad in all honesty. Normally I am very happy with my long legs and enjoy my height all around… Not so much on a long plane ride though… Yeah. I pretty much slept the whole flight, mostly in weird ways cause that was the only way I could find to sleep. At one point in time my head was shoved between the side of the plane and my tray table… Wasn’t too bad actually.</p> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"> </div> <p style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal">I am now a resident of Kelkeim Germany and it looks so interesting! I can’t wait till I have the energy to go and explore the city. I have a feeling I am going to get lost a lot though. I was trying to figure out which way was North… I keep thinking South is North, so I was a little confused on why the sun was rising in the West. There are no Rockies to help me figure out where I am…. I am use to being a little spoiled that way.<br /></p> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"> </div> <p style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal">The apartment we live in is really cute and fun. It is on the third floor and it is nice. I will post pictures sometime… If I can get my camera to work that is. I was thoroughly entertained by the toilet though. Not the actual toilet, just how you flush it. Above the toilet there is a button a little bigger than a paperback book<span style=""> </span>and you just push it… I know I am weird but I think it is fun! Also it is going to take some time to get use to the light switches to be on the outside of some of the rooms. That should be easier than figuring out which trash can I throw things into. I think there are at least three different trash cans that you throw different things into. All in good time I guess.</p> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"> </div> <p style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal">In all honestly I am completely happy to be here. I think God has a reason for why I am here and I am ready to figure that out. While it was hard to leave behind my family and friends who I love so much, I know there is a reason I am here and that I have a whole lot to learn. Starting with German with any luck:) </p>Ratchethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05919885084135624700noreply@blogger.com1