Holiday Spirits

Well, I met up with some of the teachers from my school at the entrance to the Christmas market at 4:30 Thursday night -- uh, Thursday afternoon? It sounds too early to be night, but it was already dark enough that it felt much later. Thankfully the market is there now to light up the night. When I got there, the others were just having their first toast, so I bought myself a piping hot mug and joined in.

Of course most of us didn't end up going to teacher sport. Instead, we stayed on at the market until it closed, around 9, and then I caught a bus home to crash for the night. The dangers of seasonal drinks and friends who keep offering to buy those seasonal drinks, I suppose. I may have spiked one or two of my drinks with scotch, too -- what can I say: it takes the edge off the sweetness, thereby greatly improving the taste, but it doesn't increase stamina.

I really didn't get a chance to check out the market very much -- we set up shop right near the entrance, at a table directly in front of one of the wine stands (another good/bad move), so the only time I wandered deeper into the fray was to find a bratwurst for dinner, and by that time my appraisal skills were focused solely on distinguishing "food" from "not food." But I've got another 24 days or so to browse and peruse and report back on how wonderful it all is.

Last night was another great one. A friend from Campus Radio, Catherine, threw a party with her roommates. I met a bunch of cool people. At one point I was discussing stereotypes and youth culture with a French girl and a couple of German girls. Turns out nobody's all that different (hint: kids all over the world love to drink, no matter what the politicians try to do). Although it does seem that we Americans drink the most. They were all pretty shocked to hear about all the drinking games and drinks such as grain alcohol that are common in America.

One of Catherine's friends was a police officer in another city -- she seemed most American in her drinking habits, and was therefore a bad influence. She was uncomfortable about, but also gamely ignored, the blatant pot smoking that was occurring elsewhere in the house. I guess the laws on how much you can have are kind of spotty, but even if it's not much you're not really supposed to share it. You're also not allowed to buy or sell it; go figure. Maybe you're supposed to grow it on your windowsill.

We stayed up till who knows when, and random friends of another roommate didn't seem to be leaving anytime soon. It was unbelievable -- the house was a mess, and the music was blasting basically until the sun rose again. I felt like I was in college again. Technically I was and am, and so are they, but I meant American college; you know, the ones you see in the movies. I ended up crashing on the floor with some of Catherine's friends from home -- they were staying anyway since they're not from the area, and I stayed because I missed all of the buses. If all German parties are like that one, I'm not sure if I should be happy or scared. I don't expect to get involved in such shenanigans again at another friend's party tonight, though. I gotta keep that bass strong for tomorrow morning -- you know how it is when the gospel choir is counting on you.

Sample lyrics that I will be singing but not meaning tomorrow:
"Every time I feel the spirit moving in my heart I will pray;"
"It's me, it's me, it's me, oh Lord, standin' in the need of prayer;"
and, "Wade in the water, God's gonna trouble the water."

Wrap your head around those and maybe I'll cut a greatest hits album someday.