See London

5 Mai 2010; 11.37: The day began with a trip to Hamburg’s art museum. I’m a sucker for museums, frequenting the Met and Natural History regularly. Kunsthalle Hamburg currently has the Pop Life exhibit that I missed at the Tate Modern last year - complete with Koonz, Warhol, Hirst, etc. Also there was this dead horse with the acronym “INRI” stuck in it by Maurizio Cattelan. I suppose you can say this is beating a dead pretentious horse, but I for one eat up self-indulgent contemporary art. I suppose that puts me in the arrogant pretension category, but that’s news to no one.

Challenge of the Day: Not spending any more money on these FIFA stickers. I failed today’s challenge.

German Word of the Day: Self-righteous - selbstgerecht.

30 April 2010; 15:23: Oh, you know. Just making hot chocolate the old fashioned way. It was a perfekt day for hot chocolate - cold, dreary, grey - a stark comparison to yesterday which was summer weather. Hamburg is a fickle place.

Challenge of the Day: You know what’s really hard? Trying to buy a deep conditioner when all the labels are in German.

German Word of the Day: erzählen - story, as in: cool erzählen, bro, as in this entire post.

This half-assed post brought to you by Chelsea’s laziness and the letter K.

29 April 2010; 15:23: I have a friend from high school who is currently living in München and one of her biggest complaints is how unfashionable the people there are. It’s all Abercrombie and Tommy Hilfiger up in that joint. Munich lives in a weird time warp where it’s constantly 2001 in a suburban mall. Disregarding the example above’s mini-backpack - and is that a butterfly clip?!, people in Hamburg are quite fashionable. There’s the sporadic Abercrombie, but it tends to stay on the younger kids, and even they are moving away from it. We recently held a party at the house and a 13 year old girl arrived wearing the most elegant Chanel short suit. Colour me impressed.

Challenge of the Day: If there’s one thing I hate in this world it’s grocery shopping. I sustain myself on rice cakes and yoghurt just so I don’t have to meander around a supermarket for an hour trying to find arugula. Cue me spending three hours in two different markets today because I couldn’t find “Quittengelee,” which from what I can tell is just some sort of orange-based jelly. Luckily for me an angel in the form of a mulleted (Dude. Mullets exist in Germany.) Edika worker to whom I could sputter my poorly accented “Entschuldigen. Haben Sie….this (pointing at list)?” came to my rescue.

German Word of the Day: Krank - sick, as in “Ich bin krank. Ich sterbe.” (“I am sick. I am dying.”) No, really. I’m pretty sure I am. brb downing my body weight in Vitamin C.

28 April 2010; 15:23: Lounging by the Alster, getting some writing done in my ~Moleskin because I’m just that indie. One may think that relaxing few hours was the highlight of my day. Oh no. My highlight is right now when I am watching Titanic dubbed in German. There’s nothing like a passionate love scene followed by “Wie gehts?” Which brings us to the challenge of the day….segue.

Challenge of the Day: This has actually been a challenge for the past couple weeks. The six year old I au pair for has just learnt of ~the birds and the bees, if you will. Only, he doesn’t believe in euphemisms. In fact, he believes in one word and one word only: The Big F. As harmless as it is, it has got to the point where he’s asking very specific questions, and miming very graphic situations. Also, everything is “sexy” so him. Sexy people. Sexy music. Sexy bread. I’m not quite sure where he’s picked all this up, but he is a very well informed six year old. An appropriate means of answering all questions has yet to be found, and instead has been substituted with a slight giggle and “Stop it.” That’s all I’ve got.

German Word of the Day: ficken - the six year old’s new favourite word.

27 April 2010; 15.23: I decided late last night to change the time of the photo every week, otherwise there’s going to be a lot of the same. Example: What was I doing tonight at 21.07? The same thing I was doing this time last week: watching Champions League football, but more on that later. This week’s time is 15.23.

It was a beautiful day out in Hamburg - around 15 degrees Celsius (~60 F), and I spent the morning in German class staring out the window, wishing I was outside. So, naturally I spent the following hours outside by the harbour on a little man-made plot of grass basking in the sun and wishing I could understand the tour guide of the field trip who was stationed nearby. When my alarm went off to take a photo, I was walking past Hamburg’s idea of a real Steamboat. I believe it’s called the Spirit of Louisiana (or something similar), and it moves very quickly and very loudly - very unsteamboat-like. It’s charming, either way.

Challenge of the Day: Today was one major challenge all around. I still seem to be coming off in a way that is not conducive to my actual personality, and I’m coming up empty on ways to remedy that. Also, something went kaput with the house’s alarm, and every light in the house began to turn itself off and on, and the police were called. So yes, the Polizei were at the house today. Oy vey.

German Word of the Day: feiern - celebrate, which I am doing right now because my Bayern boys are going to the Champions League Final in Madrid!!!!!!! Now I just have to worry that they’ll lose to Barca (assuming Barca wins tomorrow) in the final. I cannot handle a loss to them in the final (I am also a Man United supporter - iknowiknow, walking contradiction) two years in a row. I’ll be forced to throw myself off the top of the Spirit of Louisiana into the harbour.

26 April 2010; 21.07: Despite what my gut may tell you, sometimes I do actually have a jog around the neighbourhood. I’m working up to running around the Alster which all the cool kids do here in Hamburg. Haven’t quite made it there yet. We can blame my bum knee, but it’s more likely due to my overt laziness. Though, tonight, I conquered my sluggish behaviour and laced up my Nikes. Please note how light out it still was at this hour. Being so far up on the latitudes is pretty rad.

Challenge of the Day: Don’t say a little positive thinking never got anyone anywhere. Remember that optimism from last night? Well, it somehow managed to get both one of the kids and the housekeeper ill - meaning more work for this girl. It wasn’t “challenging” per se, but I did iron more today than I have in my entire existence. I also faked a conversation with the dry cleaning lady. She had no idea I wasn’t a native speaker, but it was all do to some clever wording wherein I only used phrases I knew that were probably not the most normal way to phrase things. Either way, she was none the wiser, and my right arm is a little bit stronger (from the ironing, that is.)

German Word of the Day: Bügeln - ironing, as in: Ich möchte nie wieder bügeln tun. jkjk. Ich mag bügeln. (I never want to do the ironing again. jkjk. I like ironing.)

24 April 2010; 21.07: Rummaging through my closet for an appropriate outfit to don to a birthday party at a bar of a person I don’t know. Spoiler alert: I chose none of these outfits. Just as I was losing hope in the friendliness of Hamburgers, I was welcomed with open arms by complete strangers. I only found myself at this birthday celebration via someone I had only met once for only a couple hours. Hope restored. Apparently not all Hamburgers are cold and disinterested in anyone but themselves and the people they already know. Overall a good night, which was proceeded by a good day sitting by the Alster (lake) doing some script editing for my good and talented friend Jessica (whom I suggest you all follow), like the proper hipster I am. It was possibly the most New Yorky day I’ve had thus far. Sitting by the lake was much like sitting in Union Square, and the bar was much like any bar you’d find in the city - and the people? Welcoming. Friendly. Genuine.

Challenge of the Day: Welp, I just set off the house’s alarm. So, there’s that.

Learnt German Word of the Day: Genau - exactly. I actually learnt this word a while ago as people here say it an average of 78 times a day.

23 April 2010; 7.21pm: Okay I cheated today a bit, but for good reason. I knew that at 21.07 I’d probably be on the U-bahn, but at 7.21 I’d be at a football stadium amongst rowdy hooligans cheering on FC St. Pauli. So, I set my alarm for the reverse, and set out to St. Pauli. My ticket was in the standing room only section, which means in the heart of the club. Flags, drums, self-appointed cheerleaders with megaphones with their backs to the football action. There was not a single moment of silence, and a wide-variety of songs. I found myself wondering how anyone in this mass could possibly be paying attention to the actual match when there seems to be so much attention on the mob-mentality. The songs and chants varied from harsh German shouting to St. Pauli to the tune of Hey Jude. How can you hate a team that uses Beatles songs in their chants? Answer: You cannot.

I was clearly out of place, and felt like Elijah Wood in Green Street Hooligans. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a life long football supporter (Glory glory Man Uniiiited! Wir lieben München, jawohl!) and have been to my fair share of matches, but always in the seats at a safe distance from the rough and tough supporters. I tried my best to keep up, but it was sensory overload at it’s purist - chants, jumping, rhythmic clapping, people hitting me on the head.

Then came the goal celebration. A mosh pit. That’s what happens. A mosh pit. It’s the equivalent of being at a New Found Glory show in the early ’00s. After the first tor (re: goal), I found myself hoping there would be no more for the “coolest team in German football.” What was the final score, you ask? Oh, why 6-1 St. Pauli, of course. I can’t wait for these bruises to show themselves and this possible concussion to be realised.

Easily the best moment of the night was the end. Not because it was over. I never want football to be over no matter how many times I get stepped on my a man 3 times my height. But because the team stays on the field and one section at a time walks around the stadium celebrating with the supporters. Lined up, they hold hands and bow in unison. When they reached our section, who was still singing one of their celebratory songs, the team sang along. This is football at it’s purest. This is what football should be. There’s a genuine camaraderie not only as a team, but as an entire community - including the people who dedicate their lives to the club. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t tear up a bit. They don’t call it The Beautiful Game for nothing.

Challenge of the Day: Attempting to appear as little American as possible surrounded by hardcore St. Pauli supporters.

Learnt German Word of the Day: Hell - light (in colour).

22 April 2010; 21.07: Oh how embarrassing. My iPhone alarm went off to take a photo as I was rummaging through the fridge looking for something chocolaty. Luckily for me, I live in a house with three children and sweets are aplenty. If you’ve never had any sort of Kinder product, first off FOR SHAME. Secondly, get your hands on some. I would recommend Kinder Bueno which I’ve had a pretty unhealthy obsession with since 2002.

Challenge of the Day: Parking. I’ve done my fair share of improv parking in New York, but only because I have a MINI Cooper and feel as if that means I can get away with it. Here in Germany, people park anywhere and everywhere. This includes (but is not limited to) five feet behind and perpendicular to me, thereby boxing me in. This isn’t a one of occasion. Just the other day, I accidentally tapped a BENTLEY that had done the exact same thing. It wouldn’t be a problem if the cars were small here, but Hamburg is the Orange County of Germany and everyone has these massive SUVs not suited for the small European roads and parking lots. Every time I drive anywhere I’m forced to pull an Austin Powers inspired 35 point turn. It’s embarrassing and frustrating.

Learnt German Word of the Day: Heiraten - to marry. As in: “Heiraten Sie mich für einen netten deutschen Mann des Visum?” (“Will you marry me for a visa nice German man?”) - I kidddd I kidddd. Marriage is for saps.

21 April 2010; 21.07: Double the Lahm. Double the pleasure. Much like last night at 9.07pm CET, I was hauled up watching Champions League football. Unlike last night I had the opportunity to go to a bar to watch, but opted out due to hail and 80mph winds. Also, being in Germany and being that Bayern is playing, the match is on normal TV and not just Sky. So, I was able to watch what turned out to be a much messier match than expected from the comfort of my own floor.

Random fact about myself: I hate pants (re: trousers). I avoid wearing them at all costs. Naturally this means I enjoy a nice skirt and/or dress situation. What I don’t enjoy is said situation when a freak wind storm occurs, causing me to flash builders on the street. Thank you, Hamburg for having the most unpredictable weather I’ve ever encountered.

Challenge of the Day: I don’t mean to generalise, but I’ve met quite a few incompetent Starbucks workers in my day. And I understand that my accent is a bit flawed, but when I clearly say “nein” to the question “would you like anything else?” I mean nein. I don’t mean stare at me like I’m a moron and ask my German-speaking friend if I really don’t want anything else. Also, yelling across the store “does she want whipped cream?” when I understand that question perfectly is just embarrassing. For you, miss barista. In my harshest German accent I said “Nein. Ich möchte sahne. MIT sahne.” (“No. I do want whipped cream. WITH whipped cream.”) I don’t know how I’m expected to learn the language properly when people don’t give me the chance to speak it. I ordered in German. I answered the questions in German. What more do I need to do? Waltz into every shop donning a dirndl?

Learnt German Word of the Day: Frü aufgestanden - Wake up early. I will never need this phrase. Unless it is to say: “Nein. Ich wache nicht frü aufgestanden.”

Note: Due to continuous jet lag and inability to think properly with all this German swarming around me, this post may be a bit muddled and all over the place.

The oddest thoughts run through your mind when you’re up late at night due to jet lag:

• Must remember to put socks on before leggings tomorrow because I’m wearing my short boots.
• I wonder what Growing Pains sounds like dubbed in German.
• Maybe if I dry my hair this way it’ll stop being so orangey and poofy in this city.
• Do red squirrels know they have a less cute cousin running through the trees of Central Park?
What does SpongeBob Schwammkompf really translate to?
• Where did I put that nail file/necklace/peice of paper I never really needed and won’t ever need?

I’ve been in Germany for four days now and I’m currently sitting on the couch in “my room” in a relative strangers house. The job of an au pair is a strange one. That’s right. This celebrity consorting, New York City girl has given up her posh existence to play slave to three pre-pubecent Hamburgers (re: the people of Hamburg, not rancid meat on a bun). Stateside I’m Blair Waldorf. Here, I’m Julie Andrews. It’s a stark transition.

Some have called me crazy, others adventurous. I say I was bored. There’s something romantic about picking up and going to a city where no one knows you. To everyone here, I’m just some American broad. That isn’t to say at home I’m anything special, it’s just everyone seems to have some pre-conceived notion about me there - here I am anonymous. It’s a liberating and terrifying feeling.

Thus far most of my time has been spent in my new home, which I can only equate to a Real World house - it seems harmless enough from the outside, but then you walk inside and HOLY SHIT IS THAT A SAUNA?! Yes, there is a sauna in my bathroom. Having my fair share of nice things, I’m not easily impressed by material possessions, but this house is impressive. More importantly, the family is impressive. They work like a well-oiled machine, but are still able to be light-hearted and full of personality. Even with their demanding schedules, the kids are happy and kind. Perhaps they are complaining and arguing in their native tongue, but if so it has gone over my head completely.

But, as I said, the job of an au pair is a strange one. You’re not quite a guest in someone’s home, but there’s still a certain uncertainty reaching in to the fridge for a glass of water. I spent my day yesterday hunting for a three-pronged converter for my computer, then headed “home” for work. Work entailed jumping on a trampoline for an hour, playing football (re: not Handegg) with two of the boys, and putting away some laundry. Hardly seems like work. Maybe it’s the the high demands of the oh-so-rich-and-famous or the whiny needs of my younger brother and sister that prepared me for this “job”, but it really almost doesn’t seem fair taking money for teaching a six year old boy how to do a toe-touch.

I suppose all I can say is here’s to my second attempt at ex-patriotism. Proost!*

*Must look in the eye whenst cheersing, or else seven years bad sex. Just sayin’.