Look Ma, I've Got a Stalker!

So I went to Barcelona last weekend.
Saw some really cool things.
Like the beach. Or more specifically, the Mediterranean Sea.

So gorgeous that I actually lost track of time and ended up missing Temple Sagrada Familia. Whoops (she says while secretly thinking it was quite worth it).

And Guell Parc ~ a recommendation from JL in fact. She was right. It could not be missed.

And it actually led to (what I consider) the most interesting story of the weekend.

I’d like to introduce you to Jorge (that’d be him in the little red circle).

I first met Jorge at the top of these stairs, where I wanted to take a picture. At first he was nice and able to keep up with my Spanish (or was it vice versa). Anyway, he seemed like a nice little old man. Until he started following me.

Yes, Barcelona gave me my very own stalker.

Standing at the top of those very stairs. I tried to shake him but he moved in closer. Asked me out for a beer, coffee, water. Anything. I said no to all of the above. He stepped in even closer. And then, he reached out and touched me. Literally. He reached out his grubby little hand and began stroking my arm and just as quickly, he moved to my back. So I took another step back. Right off the edge of those stairs I’d been so proud of conquering minutes before.

Maybe it was my willingness to throw myself down an insane amount of steps over going anywhere with him but Jorge backed off. Thank Goodness.

And that is my Barcelona story.

In Lieu of Balcony

This window beckons me, calls me, mocks me.

 There's a lovely little sill right outside, it says. Perfect for sitting.

It promises me lovely views of my new home.

To the left, the busy street with the Halterstrasse, bank, and the little Church whose bells chime daily.

To the right, the smaller side street, overflowing with shops and residences like ours.

But still I am unsure. You are quite old, I tell the window. Over a hundred years. How do I know you can bear my weight?

Trust me, it whispers.

But, still, I am unsure.

After all, it is a long way down.

It's All About die Schuhe

I could tell you all about my day.

The highs (rocking my German test). And the lows (a new facet of DU's Masters Program I'm trying to get into next year).

But instead, I am going to skip all that and focus on what is really important: Shoes.

Now let me preface this post with a (shocking) statement: I am not a shoe person. I own, maybe 10 pairs, and wear (regularly) ... 2?

OK. Now that I've gotten that off my chest, we'll continue:

To say that I've been living in my sneakers is an understatement. Living in Wien is A LOT of walking (to the Halterstrasse), running (to the U-Bahn), and trudging up stairs (to the apartment, the U-Bahn, and school).

Old Faithfuls.

Now, do not get me wrong. I love my beat up O.F.'s like any other human who cherishes happy feet. But I have worn nothing but them since I got here - just over a month ago. Every. Day. No exception. Why? Because it's either my O.F.'s, knee high boots, or black heels. I refuse to wear the heels (happy feet, remember?) and boots.. in this heat? I don't think so.

So O.F.'s it's been and we've gotten along famously. But my (lack of) shoe wear has kept me out of 1/2 the clothes I brought because, no matter how hard I try to convince myself, that small, small part of me which acknowledges right and wrong says my sneakers just don't look right with a knee length A-line skirt. For some reason, it just doesn't work (Fashion designers, can we get on that? Stat?).

Aware of this, I've been on a hunt these last few weeks, trolling the streets of Wien for a proper pair of walking flats that a) look decent b) won't make my feet cry and c) won't make my bank account cry.

And I was striking out. Big time. I was hitting up the Thrift Store (20Euro for used shoes...really?) every weekend. Walking, walking...searching. Nada. Or as my German Professor would say "keinen Schuhe"  (no shoes). I was complaining to everyone and anyone who would listen that I was destined to walk Wien in sneakers. Until Roomie D heard my cries and took pity on me (or just wanted me to shut up..hmmm...).

Taking her advice, I found my way to a little shop down the street from the Thaliastrasse U-Bahn.

When I first walked in, I'll admit. I was slightly skeptical.

Shoes here in Wien are...well, let's go with popular, shall we? After all, they must keep up with all the new fashions.

I'm afraid to know what fashion these are keeping up with.

Boots - in particular - are in high demand this season.

Would I ever find what I needed? Just a nice pair of flats, no bows, or ribbons or fringe (shudder).

And then, tucked away between the wall and the register. There they were. Flats. In normal colors. I quickly grabbed up the first pair - brown - and tried them on. A perfect fit (size 39 - wow!). And the price wouldn't kill me (15Euro). I tried to find other colors (staples, you know) but they only had one pair of 39's in any color. And they were mine. All mine.

They're now sitting in front of the cabinet - just waiting for me to take them out. 

And that concludes The Great Shoe Search in Wien of 2009.

The 1st District of Vienna

When I left my class at 10:30 this morning, I had every intention of going back to my apartment and diving into my lovely bed – something my god-awful early morning class had taken me away from.

Alas, Vienna had other ideas.

I knew Vienna could be tempting but I was quite dedicated to the task at hand until she upped the ante with a cool, sweater required day that welcomed me like a long-lost friend (oh, how I do love my cold days).

And just like that, I succumbed to her wiles and breathlessly walked about the first district - camera in hand. Just like any proper tourist. Because I am, after all, a tourist.

I walked on streets that had been previously roamed by Roman soldiers.

Admired monuments erected by Kings of Old

Stopped at bare-bottomed fountains

And was ogled by a woman the color of mold.

And when my body begged for reprieve, I gave it. With the warning that tomorrow’s forecast calls for the same thing.

Last Sunday

To say that I am a homebody is the understatement of the year.

Anyone who really knows me, knows that I am perfectly content to sit around all day in my PJ's and play on the computer. Yes, I am a geek to the umpteenth power and this definitely has some bearing on my single status but let's just focus, shall we?

Anyway, it was Sunday and I'd spent Friday night and all of Saturday in the state I've just described (shut up, I am not pathetic. I'm committed to my computer, that's all. It get's lonely when I leave). In a moment of clarity, I decided to get out. Go somewhere. Where didn't matter so long as I was out of the house.

So, with a little bit of grumbling and a lot of self prodding, I showered and dressed - making sure to put on extra deodarant to compensate for those who think it's an option here in Vienna (take my word - there are a lot who consider it an option and over compensating does nothing but make you smell like you took a baby-powder shower).

My destination was one I'd heard some girls talking about. The Donauinsel - a manmade island dividing the Danube River - where you can ride bikes, swim, and picnic (I also heard it had Mexican food).

Of course, being me, I managed to miss the exit and wound up taking the U-Bahn all the way to Florisdorf - also known as the last exit on the U-Bahn. Whoops. But that was okay I told myself. I'll just explore this area.


Only, yah, it seems Florisdorf (which I have just typed as Floris-DORK for the umpteenth time) is primarily a residential area with a couple scattered shops. Which, of course, are closed on Sunday's.

Undeterred (or stubborn, take your pick), I did a little window shopping and walked on and on until finally, FINALLY I found the River. I think. By then, I was too tired to explore so I collapsed by the river bank and tried to convince this Mama Duck I had no interest beyond that of a photographers in her little babies.


She didn't believe me, gathered her brood, and away they went, tossing quacks over their shoulder, which I'm sure were insults.


The area of River I did see was lovely. Green and lush, with a breeze stirring the overgrown grass.



I watched as people went windsurfing and boating and biking.


One day I'll be a big girl and try that out for myself but for now, I just watched.

Then I strolled a little farther down and found my duck family again. This time, just to tick of the Mama, I sat on a little park bench I found and, insulated from the rest of the world, laid down and relaxed and enjoyed my peaceful afternoon.



And that was my day. I found a bench, pestered a Mama duck, and oggled people. Overall, a productive day, wouldn't you say?

Seeing Vienna

So I think my school is pretty cool.

The organizers are friendly and helpful. Full of advice and how-to's.

And they really want you to get a full experience of Vienna.

There's tons of little extras that we, as students, get to enjoy at next-to-no cost.

Yesterday I got to experience once of those extras.

We went on a 3hr bus tour of Vienna, complete with a tour guide (hey Mrs. O!) who happens to be one of the History teachers for the school.

At first we toured what many consider to be Vienna, we saw the Opera house, and the museums (didn't go in - we just saw them). Then went and visited a summer palace. She pointed out different statues and relayed their meanings. We also went up, up into the Vienna woods and drove along side the Danube River.

I found it very enjoyable. I could have done an entire day tour and not minded at all. I got to see lots of places where I want to go back and tour a bit more - this time with my tripod so I can actually prove I've been there LOL.

But here are some of my shots from yesterday, including the one and only self portrait I have (somewhere, Jessica Lee is so disappointed in me).

We started @ Belvedere, a summer guest palace.

Getting my panorama on.

Me and the palace (the one and only self portrait I have)

Then up through the Vienna woods and then out again and when we emerged, this was our view.

An altar. Vienna is extremely Catholic so they have these amazing altars.

A really cool building designed by a man who said everything didn't have to be so cut and dry

A New Routine

I've developed a routine here in Wien (pronounced: Vee-nuh).

The alarm goes off at 7a, I hit snooze until about 7:30a, hop in the shower, dress, eat, then leave for school.

Now we are blessed to be in a location where the trolley runs right to our front door. So every morning, I hop onto the trolley and take it to the U-Bahn. There are two U-Bahns that I take. The final drops me in Stadtpark, which is a quick 5-10min walk to Johannesgasse 7 - AKA Palais Corbellis AKA My School (!).

The whole trip takes me about 50min (one of these days I'm going to try riding a bike and see how long that goes. You can rent a bike - known as the City Bike - for very cheap. In fact, the first hour of every ride is free so if I can make it to school in an hour, I'm set).

Starting at 9am I have German for 2hrs 45min. Some days I learn a lot, others my eyes glaze over and I revert to Spanish. Like today. Whoops.

I'm free by 11:45a and depending on the day, I will either wander or go straight home. My trip home is the same I take in the morning, only in reverse.

Once again, the trolley drops me right at my front door and I climb the 4 flights of stairs to our "penthouse" apartment (penthouse because it's on the top floor). There is no lift. You should have seen our faces when we found that out, suitcases in tow, Sunday. Good times.

I walk through the door and I always call out, "Hello". Just in case. I have two roomates now and do not want to startle them. But the greeting is always the same: silence. No one is home. They will be home hours later, after their own class has finished and they've made new discoveries in the city. But for now, it is just me and an apartment that has spent its day cast in shadows, windows closed, curtains drawn. The air is still and slightly muggy. There are no fans, no AC.

This is my job. Everyday, I bring life back into the apartment. I go to each window - two in the bedroom, two in the livingroom, and one in the hallway. I throw back the curtains and the room lights up. I turn the handles and the curtains billow with the influx of air.

The apartment breathes again.

My routine is complete.

Lord, I am exhausted.

Seriously, seriously exhausted.

But I'm here and it's beautiful.

A quick overview: Got into Vienna (Wien - pronounced "Vee-n") on Wednesday of last week (OMG - almost a week ago!), took a bus from the airport to the Westbahnof, got spectacularly lost and wandered around for what seemed like hours (probably about 2), finally found the hotel and crashed.

The next day I got up and met the rest of the IES Vienna group and we were all whisked away into the mountains to a tiny village called Mariazell, where we stayed and "bonded" (I put it in quotes because, let's get seriously, you know I didn't really "bond" with anyone. I hate being put in large social groups. I do not do well) until yesterday (Sunday). During this time we were introduced to the program, the directors, got some minor stuff out of the way and people drank. A lot. I did not. I sat in my room and cried at the lack of internet (a little. but it was on the inside).

We also found out our room situations. I'd previously been told I was rooming with two girls and now found out we'd be sharing one room that had 3 beds.

I was slightly apprehensive thinking how we'd work but once we got here, we found a pretty big apartment. All 3 beds in 1 room but we're not "on top" of each other, we've each got desks, shelving, and a wardrobe. It's pretty nice.

Today was our first "official day" of school - but not really. It was only the beginning of our German Intensive class. I'm in the Elementary I (meaning I don't speak a word) and my class with be for 3 weeks @ 9am. The others are reprieved until the afternoon I believe but I really do not mind because, seriously, this city is gorgeous and it's fun getting lost in it.

Like I did today. I wandered around, bought some stuff I needed, and eventually jumped on a U-Bahn (picture a subway) and took it way to far. So I got off, backtracked and started walking. And walking. And walking.

I walked really far and really long and finally gave up and called Bern because I was just so. tired. She was able to point me in the right direction (twice - ugh) and I got home pretty quick after that. Felt really nice to just sit and relax.

So that's pretty much gotten everything caught up til now.

I guess it must be picture time, eh?

Me in my apartment (you can't see anyone else's beds )

The best shot I got of St. Stephen's Cathedral

The many, many stairs we climb to get to and from our apartment

Mmmm, lemon sorbet (and a view). Figured, I'm lost - why waste it?!?

Our hostel in Mariazell

Because this is exactly what I need to do instead of packing...

I stayed up quite late putting this together. I'm not sure why but all of a sudden, I really wanted to do this. So I did and without further ado, I present my memorial video of the Tobey Man.

So Long Charlie

I am officially cat-less. On Tuesday, Charlie and I drove the 400+ miles to Auntie Vamps in Salinas (with a quick stop over in LA to drop Robby off @ Nana and Papa's).

When I was first tossing around the idea about going abroad, my one big reason for not being able to go was because I had the Boys. Well, Auntie Vamp quickly shot down my reasoning by graciously offering to take both Tobey and Charlie for the duration of my stay in Austria.

Sadly, Tobey managed to get out about two weeks ago and, even sadder, has vanished, which here, usually means he didn't make it. I've gone 10 rounds with myself over him getting out but in the end, there's nothing I can do to change the past and Charlie still needed a good home while I was gone.

Auntie Vamp's it was. Only first, we had to get through the car ride.

In the beginning, Charlie was...shall we say...not too fond of the car:

He started with a sweet and short protest.


No thanks, I think I'll stay right here. These little peddle things make a cool backrest.

When that didn't work, he resorted to screaming.

Look at the road not at the camera, crazy woman!

Then, after two hours of pretty much non-stop howling, he calmed down (read: passed out):


After a ridiculously long amount of time, we arrived at Auntie Vamp's:

Finally, ground that doesn't move!

To make sure Charlie was adjusted to his new surroundings, I stayed a few days and listened as my little King schooled Auntie Vamp in exactly how he likes things done, including food never served above room temperature, belly rubs at any given moment, and unimpeded access to the chest when he wants a snuggle.

After we snorted our "yah, rights" to that, I told her just to make sure he had food and water and a clean box and the boy was good to go.

Luckily, Charlie has had a soft spot Auntie Vamp from day 1 (literally) and he was willing to negotiate the exact terms and conditions. Because he loves her, see?

Mr. Charlie man and his Auntie Vamp on adoption day (she clearly won his affections)

Now, I am back in San Diego and missing my little man very much. Auntie Vamp has already texted to say that he is getting along very well in his new surroundings and even has a new BFF - who just happens to be Auntie Vamp's BF. But even though he's being spoiled out of his mind right at this very moment with things I've probably denied him for the past year, you can see in his eyes how much he wants me back soon, right?

Crazy woman, you won't get me back in that car alive...

When Heartbreak Has A Name

Tobey 2005-2009

Charlie and I were blessed to have you for the last year (and FYI: this is why I didn't want you to get outside...you don't come back). See you in Heaven, baby boy!

My View Right Now...

I'm up in the mountains at a friends "cabin" (this place is huge) for 3 days of skiing and fun. Just thought I'd make y'all a little jealous.

Scammers.

Sure. They may look all cute and sweet and innocent now...


But then you walk into the room and see this.


So far, Tobey is the one trying to get back on my good side.

Cheating.

Apparently I've been doing a lot of walking. I am aware of this because when I went to get up at the end of class today, my feet did not want to cooperate.

Just how much walking? About 12 miles this week. It's usually more around 16 but Monday was a holiday. But still, 12 miles? That's a lot of walking.

So I am treating myself to a Light Rail ride home. Because today is Thursday, it's not saving my feet really. I walk an extra mile - mile and a half every Tues and Thurs because the Mass Comm building is in No Man's Land.

So, in reality, I walk more than 16 mi a week but shhh, don't tell my feet. I'll let them go on thinking I'm cheating by taking the Light Rail home.

In fact, I think I'll make it a Tues/Thurs tradition.

Sounds good to me (and my feet).

An Idea.

This blog should be called The Long WALK Here.

You can practically see the wheels turning...

"Mmm, me likey the cake batter..."

"Different form, same great taste."

"She won't notice just one missing..."

"Aha! Gotcha!"