We've Met Before, My Name Is Jessica

Phew! That took forever! Hello again to all my friends, I'm sure you've been pining away for me, repeatedly refreshing your browsers in the hopes of an update with which to waste your time. And I will not disappoint.

Jessica Does Many Many Things; Forgets Them All

When I last left you, I was stuffing boxes of candy down my mouse pants and crawling toward my house (der meine gastfamilie) while my muscles atrophied from overexposure to sugar and beer. Not much has changed.

An easy week followed, without much class or any need for intellectual stimulation, so I youtubed my way through about 4 days. This weekend, most of the group went to Budapest but I am just not that interesting, so I explored Bonn!

The Bonn Chronicles, Part 1: In Which I Discover the Gestapo and Gummi Bears

On Thursday, we went to the Gestapo Headquarters in Cologne; the building had been used for decades after the war, only being turned into a museum in 1997. We looked into the cells where detainees were held; tiny spaces with windows looking out into the street, 20-30 people squished together for days at a time and were ignored by passersby. Needless to say, it was very moving, but being the insufferable ass that I often am, I made moon eyes at my professor the entire time. Ha, I'm only kidding, you should know my not-so-inner nerd was having a conniption (but on the serious, he is PRECIOUS).





On Friday, Kristin and I did what we do best: find candy, preferably being passed out by humans dressed in giant furry costumes. We went to the Haribo factory, and I personally dug my hand into every candy shelf they had, with a loud squeeeee! of gluttonous joy.



Afterward we wandered around Bad Godesberg and realized that we had absolutely nothing to do. Until I found this:

What you are viewing is quite possibly the most bizarrely racist Easter Bunny or sweetest (pun!) tribute to Mickey Rooney in "Breakfast at Tiffany's" EVER. You decide.




The Bonn Chronicles Part 2: The Uneventful Troupe Meets the Eurotrash Twins



Determined to enjoy ourselves in the absence of our Budapest-invading friends, Stephanie, Vanessa, Kristin and I met for dinner at Stephanie's house (where I got to chat with my dear old friend, the piano, until I remembered that I am a terrible player and stopped out of mercy for the rest of the group) and headed off to Cologne to meet Sandra. In typical New Europe Program fashion, we wandered around the streets of Cologne without an idea as to where we would go. After a few beers and shots of Absinthe, we came up with the bright idea of heading back to Bonn. And so we went, arm in arm.





We went to N8, a club near the Altstadt which is evidently a sweatlodge set to 90s pop music. I had a lovely time, at least I thought I did until I saw them: perched on a platform in matching black button down shirts, there they were in all their glory. Two souls, so perfectly synchronized in their rhythmic swaying, so hairsprayed and adorned in Calvin Klein accessories (that could only be outshined by their hairless torsos exposed by four undone buttons) that they could not be ignored. We found the holy grail of Eurotrash; and there were TWO OF THEM. Wiping sweat from my brow, I weighed a large bag of sand with which I replaced them and ran, chased by spear-throwing club-goers. Safely back in their museum, the Eurotrash twins were finally in a place where they would be properly cared for.*



Eventually, after "Wannabe" played again, I headed home to rest up for my big day of doing nothing, otherwise known as "homework." You see, there was once this thing called "homework" (phonetically "hohm-wurk")that I used to do back in the Americas. Though it is nearing extinction in Germany, some rare breeds still exist and I occasionally tend to them instead of shooting them as I would like to. Two papers, a presentation, and 2 midterms (wish me luck on Friday!) later, I am ready for a nice day trip. Why, there's one tomorrow you say? What luck!

Join me next time for "Jessica Visits Trier and Further Annoys Others With Frivolous Picture-Taking"
Tschuss!

*Please note, I saw the shorter one at Starbucks the next day in a tee shirt and jeans with his homework and I breast swelled with a motherly pride.

Recovery is a Long Process

Today I slept a lot after class, and here's why.

"Jessica Meets the Bars: Undying Love is Proclaimed"

Yesterday, after a visit to the German Post-WWII exhibit (with a very cute student tour guide from the AIB), I had my first chocolate shake since being here and let me say, my friend, they should look into adding ice cream to that sucker. Once we were all done, Neils (or at least that's how I will be spelling it) asked us if we wanted to stick around or go back to the AIB. I made my voice clearly heard:

"My name is Jessica, and I would like to drink something. Preferably something with what you'd call 'alcohol' in it."

The student worker was AWESOME and agreed to meet us at the Aldstat (an area where there are a lot of bars and where many of the university students live) that night. I put my gameface on. We met up at an Australian bar, but moved to an Irish pub across the way when there were far too many territorial Germans for us wide-eyed Americans to fit in there. At the pub, all the girls crowded around the cute student worker like a circus act and he taught us a drinking game that was eerily similar to Bullshit, except with dice (pretty sneaky, Germans). We all took a shot of Spanish Fly (What's that? Why yes, it was delicious and worthy of its notoriety, I'm glad you asked) and it was on. Then we moved to another bar that had foosball table, and I failed miserably. My opponent blamed the alcohol; I blamed my limited motor skills. Then we were on our way to Blow Up, which was every bit as spectacular as it sounds.

En route, some of the girls stopped for McDonalds, which left me waiting out in the cold; I do not patronize McDonalds in America, and I don't believe that just because something has a European accent that it is any sexier**. We then walked on as they devoured what must have been a welcome taste of home and finally got to a bar that was packed with writhing humans uncomfortably dancing to "Sugarpie Honeybunch." A few more beers and many more Germans enjoying our company simply for being American later, all my trains had left (and we know how testy that bitch can be). As in most situations, my response was "SUCK IT, LOGIC. I know I have class tomorrow and don't need to drink any more, but I'm a grown-ass woman and I'll do what I want." So I danced to "Gimme Some Lovin" and proceeded to get Mr. Rogers-status drunk (Whatdya mean I gadda take off my sweater?)

Now, as a sober person I'm not exaclty adept at navigating the bus system, and as a drunk person, I imagine my attempts wouldn't be much more than me staring angrily at the schedule muttering "yeeaaah, eerryybody's a comedian." So I stayed with one of the girls and had to wake up this morning to get home, change, and grab my homework before getting back on the train to school (that's right, for about an hour, I was like 7 years old as I gathered my packet of German homework where I had to transcribe a conversation between Hans and Helga).

Needless to say, I didn't learn much German today. But at least my hair smelled like cigarette smoke all morning, so that was good. I gratefully accepted my friend's nutella-covered bread and had inappropriate fantasies about coffee until class was over, when we all got pizza.

So, to recap:
Many friendly Germans crowded around our group of rowdy and cheerful Americans until we trickled down to the last few of us (stereotype alert) swinging our steins in the air and singing about sausage. And after a night of no sleep, a lunch of 50cent pizza and coffee, I took a sizable nap and woke up in time for dinner.

Today my life ROCKED.

Tonight we hit the clubs, and the second installment of my epic journey continues.
Tschus!

**This opinion is subject to change quite frequently.