Vienna

This has actually been an up and down week for me, and a whirlwind. First things first, on Monday it was finally Holly's time back home after around 8 days of heart issues. It's really upsetting to know that when I go backwards to the States that little furball won't be there to suffer me at the door. I love she had a full life, though, and I pretty much prepared myself to never see her again when I left in January, but it's even just really sad.

I know it's release to be tough on Mom and Dad, so my thoughts are with them especially. I think in my limited experience with death I've always dealt with it a bit differently than most, but it's a perpetual reminder of our own mortality. There's no way of knowing when your sentence will be, so it's crucial to take the most out of the smallest events every day and relish the clip you're allowed. Having Holly around form of helped me to value that sort of mentality, and she actually did contribute a lot into all our lives. A dog can get so aroused over the smallest things, and she turned otherwise mundane moments into events for all of us (coming back from school or work, going to Wawa to pluck up a coffee, just walking down the street for 10 minutes, etc. etc.). It hasn't really hit me yet, but it always form of takes time for any kind of end to actually hit home for me. It's a really simple yet beautiful quote from Morgan Freeman in the Shawshank Redemption that really sums it all up: "You either get busy livin', or get busy dyin'" Hols definitely enjoyed her time with the family.she was wide of life right up until the end. I don't love what I'm going to do without her getting tired of me being gone and waking me up every day by 10 when I'm back home. I don't know if there's a "doggy heaven" out there, but I hope she's finally running free chasing down all the squirrels she wants somewhere. Miss you Bubby.

Well, before I got the dreadful news from back home, I had a great weekend with Petey in Vienna. It was such a stinking hassle to get there and back, but Vienna is an awful city. Austria is one of the few places that I can definitively say I have blood from, so it was game to mah roots (just kidding, but while I get out like a sore thumb in Italy, I could definitely go for an Austrian. It's funny, Pete has blonde hair so everyone there assumes he really is Austrian). I think before I get into Vienna, though, I should utter a bit about our new Italian friend here, Umberto. I met him and his roommates about 2 weeks ago (on the street at approximately 3 AM), but he ran into some problem with the landlord of our apartment building, so we let him remain with us for a bit until he could get some money together and get a position to stay. I might get in a little inconvenience for even writing that, but frankly I don't care.I'd do it all over again. He speaks a little English, but not much, so for nearly 4 or 5 hours each day, I'd be speaking but in Italian.I improved more in that time than I give in any one class I've had in Italian, and I learned a lot more relevant phrases and words (in the course I had here, before I dropped, we just talked about art and history.not much loss on there if you wish to try to make a conversation in real life). At first, I was a little apprehensive, but he turned out to be a big kid. The ethnic differences were sometime hilarious (especially the differences in clothes), but at the end of the day he was even only a 21 year old kid but wish the pillow of us. Being around Umberto made me really understand what a large experience this semester is.I would never have been so accepting of the differences in culture, even a month ago, but now that I'm here, I can feel that my overall perspective is always growing. I ended up making a big ally in the end, too. He left here yesterday to go backwards to his hometown down South, and has actually had a run of bad luck, but hopefully he can get an apartment back hither in Bologna in a brace of weeks. Otherwise, I'll be relegated back to speaking Italian only when asking for directions or ordering food for the about part.

Anyway, back to the Vienna trip. My train left at around 11:45 on Thursday, and didn't get in until approximately 8:30 on Friday morning. The dark train was really cramped (6 people in a tiny compartment), but it was too sort of cool. The lady sitting across from me brought her dog, which may sound annoying at first, but I was okay with it only in case someone tried to get into our compartment while we were sleeping to get our stuff. I didn't get much sleep, just an hour here or there, but here's a book of advice. If you always get a night train in Europe, when it gets really late crank up the Pink Floyd on your ipod.I curse every individual one of their songs is secretly about WWII, and when you're in a home like Austria.I was creeped out, but in the 'Halloween is fun' form of way. It was the complete soundtrack for the trip. Anyway, I managed to get about 4, maybe 5 hours of rest on the train, and before I knew it I was in Vienna.

Friday:I was messing about with my luggage, and Pete came out of nowhere at the program and gave me a huge whack on the back. I knew now that we were near to make a ridiculous weekend. It was great being in Vienna, because it was a mini-version of the culture shock that I experienced when I first got to Italy. I had only gotten comfortable in Italy, and thither I was in a totally new place, with a very different culture than I had experienced. Like I said in my journal, there's something vaguely familiar about Vienna, and I would compare it to a much bigger Washington, DC. It's queer how your perspective changes. After being in Bologna, I felt like I was in a new city, but Pete wanted to point me all the "old buildings." Vienna has nearly 1.8 billion people, almost a tail of Austria's population, so they give a very great public transportation system. I got a fine for the weekend for 13 euros, and I could use any sort of transfer to go anywhere in that window of time. It was weird being in a point where I didn't give any hold on the language.Pete tried to instruct me but I can't even recall how to say hello in German (I guess it's just Italian overload or something). I will say this for Petey, though. For merely speaking German for the yoke of months that he's been in Austria, he is pretty damn close to existence as good in German as I am at Italian, if not better. Pete had class until 12, so I just hung out about his apartment, which is very new and clean, basically the opposition of mine in Bologna. Also, his bed looks like something from the Mariott, but I got a prison cot and a blanket, go figure. I was starting to throw doubts about whether I picked the right program or not. When he got back, we went down into the metropolis and saw all the famous touristy things. As you live by now, my favorite thing to do in a new city is get the highest place and raise it. The foremost thing we did was go to Stephen's Dome, which is a real cool Gothic era church, and by law is the tallest peak in the city (something they've actually honored for 600 years.take a lesson Philly). The symbol of Austria is built right into the roof, and it's got these huge spires. It was entirely different than any Italian church I've seen, but it was probably my favorite building I've seen. I wasn't too terribly impressed by the famous Operahouse, however. I don't recognize what it was nigh it, but it merely looked like a regular building to me. Pete told me that originally the Viennese didn't like it either, and ridiculed the architect until he killed himself. I must be part Austrian. We toured the Hofburg palace, which was a disgusting display of riches. The Habsurgs were in office for a long time, but I'm honestly shocked that the people didn't revolt. They managed to shape up their wealth by avoiding wars and excelling in diplomacy, so they must have been smooth talkers. The entire bottom level of the museum was devoted to the golden and silver plates, platters, and silverware they exploited for their banquets. It was insane how much money they must have poured into that, but apparently they honestly believed that they were ordained by God to rule. We walked round the royal apartments also. It's crazy there, because the President of Austria is situated in the palace, so we were actually allowed within the same construction as tourists. Austria is a neutral country right now, so I think that sort of makes sense. After the Hofburg, we went to stay out the University of Wien (that's what Vienna calls itself: Wien.the jokes were too easily so I didn't even have them all weekend). We likewise saw the parliament building, and the Rathaus (which is the hilariously-named city hall building). Rathaus reminds me of the principal building at Georgetown, except bigger, if that can make you an idea. Pete took me up to this palace called Belvedere, where you could get a big thought of the full city. Belvedere was extremely close to.you guessed it.a Viennese microbrewery. Happy hour started at 2 (don't worry Mom we went in at approximately 3:45). I had the greatest beer of my life.it was a litre of wheat beer (the mug was the sizing of my entire head almost), and since it was happy hour it but cost me 3 euros. I leave the list of the brewery, but it was just insane. Austrians get their beer seriously. We went to another microbrewery after walking round the metropolis for a bit for another beer, and I got a half dunkel-half helles at this place called 1516, where they had VICTORY BEER on tap. Let me reiterate that, Victory beer from Downingtown, PA. Here I am merely trying to convince kids in Carlisle to drink Sly Fox, and I travel across the public to get something made in my own hometown. Talk roughly a smack in the face. That night, we went out to a pair of Irish bars, which were actually a nice check from the whole club scene here in Bologna.

Saturday:
I had been trying to get in touch with Uncle Dennis, who is running with the embassy in Vienna right now, all day on Friday, and he gave us his address, which Pete promptly accidentally deleted, and told us to see him at his home at 1 on Saturday for a BBQ. When we woke up, I think Uncle Dennis' phone was turned off, and we only half remembered his address, but I decided we should try to get there anyway since it would have been a sin for me to be in Vienna and not have seen him or Aunt Marlene. Anyway, we eventually found it (it's about 45 minutes from Pete's apartment), and Uncle Dennis and Aunt Marlene proceeded to draw us up with the best meal I've had since I got to Europe of steak, antipasti, and actual vegetables (I was honestly starting to think I was getting scurvey up to that point). UD made designed his own grill when he was life in El Salvador.I'm not going to pass away details and break his fortune to earn millions off of it, but it involves making your own coals and acquiring a nice wood flavor in the meat. I was expecting to throw in and say hello for nearly an hour and perhaps take a dog or something, but we ended up staying for 5 hours listening to Uncle Dennis' stories and him telling me most all the crimes my dad committed and got off with in college (just kidding). He did make us the classic line that he told PJ and my dad told me before I went to college.I'll probably tell my kid the like thing. "Remember one thing pal, there's nothing you could do, see, or even mean about doing that I haven't already done. Always remember, I know just what you're up to." Great freaking line to frighten the bejesus out of your offspring. I had a big time seeing the Nices, they really went above and beyond anything I expected, as you'll understand later. Petey and I went back with full stomachs. We went out that dark to Dick Mack's again (Irish pub) and met up with Pete's German buddy that the train set him up with. She was 25 years old, and we eventually met up with her 35 year old friend, but he had played football and turned out to be the man. We ended up at this club that was mixed between young kids going out and old divorcees, I promise at least. I think it was sort of care a cougar bar, except there were no cougars and all the old and new people were sticking together. It was really bizarre, but it was even a fun night.

Sunday:
When we woke up, Pete really wanted to break out the Habsburg summer home, so that's what we did. It made the Hofburg palace seem like it was the sizing of my own house. Ridiculous. There was a huge arch that was almost a 20 minute climb up a mound in the game that was built exclusively for artistic purposes. Pete said its been called the Versailles of the East, and I think him. There was also a zoo, and we saw this big Rhino just chillin. I could be wrong, but I remember it was the first rhino I've always seen, so there you go. We headed back toward his house, and went to this really cool coffee shop. It was one of my favourite places that I've been in Europe. It was old and smokey, and reminded me of the corner food joints you see in Philly and Delco. It was great. You can order a coffee and sit around for hours, and the coffee shops there kind of service as the peoples' living rooms.definitely a large site for the change of ideas. We were both tired, so we did stay for nearly an hour and a half, and I updated my personal journal, looking like a true Wiener. If I lived in Vienna, I'd be in that exact coffee shop almost every single day. I really wanted to try a wienershnitzel and apple strudel before I left, so Pete and I splurged and went to one of the more famous restaurants in town. There were a ton of tourists, but like I ever say.I don't care, I am one. For some reason, there was hardly a crazy amount of Italians in Vienna last weekend, even though Pete said that was the 1st time he's ever noticed any Italians. It was good to leave Bologna and yet be about my people. Anyway, the shnitzel was the shnitz, and I had literally the best potato salad I've ever tasted in my life. Seriously, I was freaking out. It was, dare I say, outrageous. All those jokers making the PA dutch stuff back home need to hold a trajectory to Vienna and make notes. I had ground out before that I required to commit a security check to the FDIC for my internship, and Uncle Dennis had graciously offered to let me stay at his home for the dark on Sunday and so go into play with him on Monday to get my fingerprints taken at the embassy, or else I would have had to go to the consulate in Florence this week in Italy. Thank God I just happened to be in Vienna that weekend, and that Uncle Dennis was willing to aid me out, or else I don't recognize that my internship would be happening this summer. I got to his family around 10, filled out some forms, and got to sleep.

Monday:
My death day in Vienna. The fingerprints turned out to be a bigger hassle than Uncle Dennis had originally expected, I think, since nobody was roughly the power and it took a patch for my fingers to read on the machine, but he was a serious sport about it. He showed me about the embassy, which was cool. I couldn't even get into the country in a car, I had to get out and get a separate security check. I was glad to hold that, though.I wish our officials to be safe overseas. I got to break out the edifice that he runs too, which is nearly 10 minutes away, and almost jammed the elevator which would have been a big way to show UD how often I appreciated what he was doing for me. Eventually, I ended up getting my fingerprints done by an Austrian member of the US secret service, who had pictures up of him and AHNAWLD in his office, which was great. I thanked Uncle Dennis for everything he and Aunt Marlene had done for me, and met Pete down at Stephen's Dome at approximately 3. My condition was going at 7, so we decided to get one final beer at another microbrewery (I got a dunkel.which was the back or 3rd greatest beer I've always had (ahh what does it matter, I drank my top 5 beers of all time this weekend alone.gotta love them German speaking breweries). Then, we went to the naschmarkt.which is like an outdoor version of the Reading Terminal Market except maybe possibly better. It was AWESOME, although I kept hyping up Bologna's market district to Petey (I've been hyping up Bologna's food for months to get him to come visit.I trust when he realizes I've been lying he doesn't get too upset). I got a pork knuckle, which is the upper portion of a pig's leg that they fry. It's like a giant turkey leg on steroids. I vowed I would eat a dog too, and I did against my best judgment. They really have a roll, cut a mess in the middle, pour the mustard (schenf? I suppose that's their son for it) in the middle, and make you a foot-long hotdog, which is essentially a monster sausage there. Epic story of deliciousness.I was still able to end it even though I was so full from the pork knuckle. Afterwards, it was time to hop on the train. I met a pair of decent people who wanted to recognize all around Us and my thoughts on 9/11, and before I knew it, I was second in Bologna.

Dad, you get to go to Vienna, if but for the potato salad. It was great.not my favourite place so far because Venice just mocks anybody who is foolish enough to be anywhere else, but it's right up there. Just a completely different look than Italy. Speaking of Italian flavor, though, I've got a hot date in the Italy's capitol tonight, so I better get moving. Updates from Rome next week hopefully.