Tristan and Erwin

The definite highlight of the summer was visiting the Bayreuth Festival where I basked in the Wagnerian glory that is Tristan and Erwin, uh Isolde.

I had heard my friend Antonia gush about the opera and Wagner before, so I said nonchalantly that we "should go to Bayreuth some day." Little did I know that in a make-a-wish-foundation fashion she would make it happen!

Tickets are practically impossible to get and I did feel a little guilty as I walked by retired conductors and starving music students wearing signs saying "Will work for Wagner".

Antonia filled me in on all the Bayreuth traditions - my favorite being getting really dressed up and then eating a bratwurst during the intermission. Luckily I didn't spill any ketchup on my evening gown!


It goes without saying that the opera was absolutely incredible. Let's just say there were tears.

But, perhaps even more incredible was the man sitting one row ahead of us (that would be the 5th row, but it's not like I'm bragging!) who was apparently so disturbed at the sight of the modern staging that he wore an EYE MASK the entire time! When the opera singers came out at the end for their curtain call we jokingly said to him "do you even know which one is Tristan?"

In a pickle

Random Erwin sighting while out and about in Munich.

Pear in a bottle

The Christmas gift that got the most "ooohs" and "aahhhs" this year was hands down the Williams Pear Schnapps Flo gave my dad.

There is an actual pear in the bottle - doing the backstroke in all that yummy schnapps. I told everyone Flo had tried to pull my leg by saying that the pear is grown in the bottle. "I'm not that gullible - I didn't fall for it!" I said proudly. Needless to say, they got a good laugh out of that.

But, the question of how the pear got into the bottle would not let my dad rest. A few days later he swore he saw a TV show about growing pears in bottles in Michigan. Yeah right, I thought. Now, I was convinced HE was trying to pull my leg!

We finally turned to the all-knowing oracle commonly know as google to solve this mystery. Lo and behold, the pear does grow in the bottle. Who would have thought?

The Butcher...continued

I've been shopping at our new Edeka practically every day lately, ever since I started eating more fresh vegetables. I walk to the supermarket my own shopping basket in hand, ready to fill it with 0,2 liter bottles of diet coke, single portions of yogurt and mini-sized bags of müsli.

As much as I love shopping there, I'm still afraid I might run into my butcher "friend". I have, however, devised a strategy. I duck into the last aisle before the meat counter, pretend like I'm perusing Magi instant pork roast sauces while non-chalantely peering over the top rack to "assess the situation".

I actually haven't seen him in quite a while. I'm wondering if he is taking an intensive language course in Malta or has been transferred to an affliated store in Newcastle. Or maybe he just got fired, because his English wasn't good enough. I guess I will never know.

Crying at Elixia

I saw you crying...
I saw you crying, at El-ix-ia

My New Year's Resolution is to STOP crying at my Elixia gym!

I admit, it's not your usual, run-of-the-mill sort of resolution like "Lose 15 lbs" or "Stop biting fingernails". (I'll take those too, please!)

I have gotten teary eyed a total of three times now at the gym while working out on the eliptical cross trainer. It was level 6, fat burner program - to be specific. And I wasn't crying because I "was feeling the burn"!

My three Hysterical moments came while watching the following on TV:

3. CNN's coverage of USAir's 1549 landing in the Hudson River. Any mention of "hero" just pushed me over the edge.

2. Wolfskinder: A documentary about a German family who fled from the Russians during the war. One of the brothers, who was like 3 years old, got seperated from the others and lived as a wolf-child in the woods before finding a adoptive family in Latvia. The other brothers and sisters lived in Germany and never knew what became of their younger brother. Years went by. The missing brother had always thought he was German and was on a documentary about Wolfskinder looking for his lost relatives. It was extremely difficult, because he wasn't even sure of his German name and he didn't have any papers. To make a long story short, the German siblings saw this on TV and they were all reunited some 50 years later. Tears of joy!

1. President Obama and the first lady walking towards Pennsylvania Avenue on Inauguration Day. What a moment!

As I walked back from the gym last night after Hysterical Moment #1, I felt so much pride in my country and was basking in the glow of this "hystorical" moment. I thought I would find Flo basking as well, but instead he was as he called it "setting priorities" which included playing a song entiteled "Suck My Kiss" on Guitar Hero. Ha!

Erwin Update...

Speaking of butchers...I almost forgot about writing a follow-up about Erwin, the green leafy plant... (See post from July 30, 2008)

After some investigation, I found out that it was named after a butcher(!) that ran the cafeteria for a short time in our office. Apparently, the plant reminded the consultants of that handsome, sensitive man! Go figure!

To Erwin...

Last night I went to hear David Sedaris read from his new book at the Literaturhaus.

My rhubarb princess organized the tickets and surprised me with an early birthday present - a copy of Sedaris's new book, "When you are engulfed in flames", and a 30 oz can of Libbys Pumpkin in a can. Both would good presents on their own, but together they are absolutely amazing! Thank you!

After the reading I got in line to get my book signed. The guy in front of me asked David Sedaris to sign his book "to my special freak", so I didn't feel too weird about asking him to write it "To Erwin..." It was a good way to get the conversation started. I told him how Germans call me Erwin, but my real name is Erin. He laughed! We talked about expatriate pissing contests and how just recently a butcher tried speaking English to me (See previous post). Living in France, he could totally sympathize. He said, "That happens to me sometimes too. I just want to say them 'F--- YOU. F- - - YOU!!!"

Afterwards the rhubarb princess said, "You do realize he ended the conversation by telling you to F---- off!?"

"Yeah", I replied. "I think he really liked me!"