So when things are not going quite my way in this life, I tend to blog-pout.
I blog-pout by refusing to write out my thoughts/worries/hopes/most recent findings regarding David Hasselhof sightings in Berlin.
I find myself justifying my blog-pouting by thinking that there is nothing worth writing about since:
I am waiting on a work visa, waiting to work, waiting to earn money, and waiting to eat something other than rice and spaghetti sauce (oh I haven't mentioned I'm allergic to all things bread? translated: p-p-p-p-pasta).
1.) Work visa has been approved. It's in Munich (I think?) and will be sent back to Berlin within a matter of days (I hope?)
2.) This means I can work. and stuff.
3.) This leads to making money.
4.) And THIS is good because that rules out using illegal means, immoral means, embarrassing means, drastic means, and all otherwise "I'm going to live to regret this" means to earn money.
But in the meantime, back at the farm, it's the waiting that just makes me want to punch myself in the face.
Waiting to start working while the job just sits in front of your face so instead occupying your time around a fantastic city that turns out it takes money to see a lot of, walking everywhere to save money and to stretch out the pain in your foot because you're a big fat wimp that has not been on this much concrete since the First Coming, and finding yourself tempted by EVERY EVER-LOVING FRUIT STAND IN THIS HEMISPHERE THAT MIGHT REALLY ALL HAPPEN TO BE IN BERLIN is really sometimes just more than one can take.
The fruit stands are really the last straw.
I could live on oranges and avocados.
And could do a fruitie version of Super Size Me.
We could call it Fruits Are People Too or All Quiet On The Fruity Front.
In going off the, uh, punny title idea... but I digress.
Point IS: in looking to avoid taking a life, this has all actually given me a lot of time for seeing the city by foot, learning my way around, meeting some people, finding out where to go for the best burger in the neighbourhood, when the riots here in the city occur...
yes. ahem. the riots.
first of May.
blah blah blah. riots. blah blah blah.
(that above was for my mother so she does not give birth to a twinkie after reading the word "riot." Hi mom.)
Apparently my little neighbourhood of Kreuzberg (as Berlin is lovingly divided into 12 neighbourhoods) was right in the corner near the wall before she fell and caused a good deal of ruckus before the reunification.
As commemoration of Berlin's Right To Riot and also because Kreuzberg is proud of this little fact in her history, May 1st is the day of rioting and everyone gathers to just, basically, go wild.
It's "Girls Gone Wild" East Berlin/1989 style.
Wham Bang Wowie Zowie.
RE: riots and/or reasons to riot. 1989 is child's play.
If I don't get that work visa within the next few days, this city will learn a new meaning of the word RIOT.