Wednesday, January 29, 2014

State of the Union: Much Frozen. Very Not Okay.

Thanks, Snobama.

You know you want dogeweather.
You might have heard that the South got up close and personal with climate change biznasty starting on Tuesday.  The promise of a feather-light dusting of flurries (yay!) very suddenly became a giant fuckbucket of ice and terror (boo!).  

By 11AM Tuesday shit got real and everyone in my office said deuces up and scrambled back into our cars to head home.  A 25 minute commute took me 2.5 hours.  Dozens of cars already littered the ditches and I think I whimpered out loud most of the way.  Also, I had to pee. Being stuck in traffic and having to pee is my worst nightmare.  I began to think of elaborate plots to pee into used coffee cups or plastic Target bags while remaining fully clothed and not pulling over because the interstate lane was literally the safest place to be.     
Fortunately my crazy pee brain was over-dramatizing a tad and I was okay after I found my second wind and a McDonald's.  Not surprisingly it was the only clear driveway within 20 miles because OF COURSE lots of people wanted fries before they died in the freezing cold. 

The calm white river of terror after the storm.
I turned off on a smaller road before I got home to avoid the standstill of cars and also if I wrecked I'd be near my second homes: Taco Bell and liquor stores.  I may have been visibly shaken but I had enough wits about me to develop a strategery.  

After inching through a few giant wrecks, the cars thinned out and I was able to eventually slide home going about 5 mph with my stomach churning.

Less than two inches of snow might seem like no big deal elsewhere but never in my life have I seen such dangerous driving conditions down here.  Blizzard-like wind gusts of snow that immediately turned to ice on the roads makes everything completely impassable to our 2-wheel drive cars.  Our cities aren't meant to handle that kind of thing anyway and we use our salt trucks for storing cold beer in the summer.  We spend our tax dollars on good Southern, Christian things like community pools filled with sweet tea and Confederate flags large enough to blanket an airplane.

I felt victorious as a storm warrior until I realized that it took some people in town four hours to get home.  Praise be to my fairy goddiva Beyonce for her infinite protection and goodwill because then I started to hear stories coming from Atlanta.  It was a post-apocalyptic nightmare down there of 6, 8, 10+ hour commutes.  Thousands of people stranded on the interstate or sleeping in grocery stores, kids stuck on school buses, sweet tea swimming pools frozen over.

Buzzfeed was not exaggerating:

Pretty much what my road home looked like minus a few lanes.  And minus the horse and Ice Walkers.  Check out here and here for much frozen.

I had actually planned to go to IKE-Rah in Atlanta that night because it was the last night of a sale.  Just think, I could have been stranded in an IKEA eating Swedish meatballs and actually living in their 250 sq ft knockout spaces for a few days!  Sounds like the making of a great iPhone documentary called Stranded Lingonberry Sauce.
But instead I'm at home (boo IKE-Rah dream) and set up a makeshift home office which means I lit a bunch of candles, made some hot chocolate and turned on Star Trek in the background.  During work breaks I did laundry, cleaned the kitchen, cooked dinner, made a quilt and wrote a novel.  You work-at-home freelancers are living the dream! 

(If this is not home telecommuting works, DO NOT SPOIL THIS FOR ME!)

Driving through the heart of shitty weather did not make me want to go outside and play when I got home but SOMEbody was intrigued:

"Da fuq is dis shit?"
Look, Charlemagne!  This is the climate your Viking cat ancestors bred you for!  Don't you feel at home?


She turned tail pretty quick but it's in her genes.  You can't deny your destiny, Charlemagne.  She gets snow crazy though and will go outside for five seconds only to return inside and race up and down the hall for five minutes.  This is exactly what I do to warm up too.

Go!  Fly like the fluffball of arctic wind that you are, cat!

So I'm stuck at home for a bit longer with the taps still running and wearing two pairs of socks.  I get snow blindness every time I look out the window because I'm stupid and it's like looking at the sun when you're seven - it's so exciting but it BURNS SO MUCH.

It's also amazing to see how picky a person normally gets when there aren't terrible weather conditions.  I have a fully stocked pantry, fridge and freezer that I could live on for weeks and yet three days ago I HAD NOTHING TO EAT WAAAAHHHH I'M SO HUNGRY AND POOR.  Well now everything in my kitchen looks fucking delicious.

The bright part of my forced captivity other than the smorgasbord of food is that my amaryllis is in full bloom!

Even this picture will make you snowblind. At least you can't see the dirty window.
It was a Christmas gift that I haven't killed yet.  Leaving the country was probably the best thing that I could have done for it.  I think my mere presence is enough to distress plants.

After all day of being (gratefully) stuck at home, I may be out of toilet paper (oops) and wine (double oops) but I'll be manage.  

I hope all my local people and Southern comrades are doing okay.  If you can make it here I have a crock pot full of pork and a freezer full of appetizers and vodka.

Please bring toilet paper.

Monday, January 27, 2014

The Glam Grotto Hustle

I don't know if any of y'all have left your homes recently on account of the Deep Space temperatures but I did and didn't die so yay global warming.  I ventured out of hibernation to see American Hustle and let me tell you I haven't worn a bra since.  

Perfection Here
The effect is slightly less glamorous and more "Hey hillbilly, your nipples are pointing in different directions!" but I just ignore it and tighten my wrap dress because I'm all about the swinging seventies now and I care not about your lack of appreciation for nipple diversity.  

But I'm pretty sure that all nipple appreciators (this is going in a terrible direction...) can agree on the magic of J Law and A... ok just Amy Adams.  For a preview that didn't really grab my interest, I can tell you that it was worth leaving the mound of blankets and cat on my couch for.

Black and yellow, black and yellow from Retro Renovation
A solid 75% of that might be because of the fashion and interiors.  65% was due to stellar acting and 25% because of "science oven."  

I began to have an intense lust for sweet, submarine yellow.   This is weird as I normally am blech to yellow but dammit if Amy Adams didn't turn me lesbian.

American Hustle Pinterest
For the color. Lesbian for the color.  I think...

I was obsessed and distracted by her apartment which she is casually hanging out in from the picture above looking gorgeous enough to make me want to eat that yellow chair with a knife and fork.

American Hustle Pinterest
The movie has a Pinterest page which is both cool and weird that a movie has a Pinterest page but fortunately it had great shots of her place so it made my job easy.  They don't appear as bright and glam as in the movie so take your bra off and use your imagination if you haven't seen the film. 

American Hustle Pinterest
So much white on white love.  Just imagine how great Charlemagne would look in here.

American Hustle Pinterest
The dining room had me leaning out of my seat in the theater trying to see around the characters because I don't understand how moving pictures work.  Warm, yellow grasscloth, abstract art, more white on white, funky lamps...  I feel dizzy from the retro perfection.

American Hustle Pinterest
Can't forget about the massive amounts of glorious (faux) fur too.

So now I'm in full 2014-is-Seventies-Appreciation-Year mode and pulled a bunch of swank spaces for us to rub ourselves on.  I even pulled a few Kelly Wearstler images just for this post - that's how serious I am because you know K dubs and the Madame have a checkered past.  That damn chair makes me itch (ESPECIALLY if an errant nipple touches it!) but it's warm with lots of contrasting textures and loads of white and I can't help it.

The 70s queen K Dubs via Sukio for these two images
I need a grotto very badly.  A glam grotto.

(Glam Grotto is the new nickname for my vagina, BTW.)

(Glam Grotto Hustle would be the name of my fake strip club.)

via Dwell
Or maybe I could just time travel here to Warren Platner's American Restaurant in 1974.  Pour it up, pour it up.  That's how we ball out.  

In the seventies. 

via Dwell
Here's Platner's reception area (I believe) for Windows on the World at the top of the North Tower of the World Trade Center completed in 1976.  It's like Star Trek meets grotto with a Dalek back wall.  So much love.  RIP.

via Dwell
Is this K dubs again?  Nope, it's our friend Platner with a FUR-COVERED COUCH in the home he designed for himself in Connecticut in 1970.  This fucker does not mess around.

There's something about the mix of sparkly glam and scratchy textures that really speaking to me right now.

Xnet? Honestly, the site was in Hebrew so I have no idea.
Could it blind you with reflection or sandpaper your face off if you laid your head on it?  Then yes I'll take two please!

via Freshome
An arc lamp and animal pelts are grotto musts.  When in doubt, cover it in leather or put some glass on it.  For easy cleanup.  

For the above space, Renaud De Poorter and Femke Holdrinet renovated the interiors for this "New Brutalism" home (check out more here) that I'm digging.  Mostly because I had no idea there was such a thing as New Brutalism so prepare yourself for that upcoming post!

from the book Living Spaces via Design Crisis
You think I'm joking but the amount of South American Brutalist concrete in my 'blog ideas' folder is quite massive. (Building material pun!)  But I like this other side of seventies too - the cold concrete side.  I'll throw some fur on it, polish up the arc lamp and we're ready for the swingers party. 

Cuz that's what people did in that decade?  I don't know I wasn't born then.  Maybe that's a good thing.

via The Elegant Cast
White on white on kilim. Are those white Kandinsky chairs?  Hot shit.

Ok so this decade's photography leaves much to be desired BUT think if Lonny was photographing these spaces for now.  We'd all lose our shit for those over-exposed-lighting-from-the-window shots and giant art.

Last three from The New York Times Book of Interior Design and Decoration, 1976, via ebay
Maybe this is getting too far away from my Glam Grotto mood board but I can't stop.  These spaces are too great.  Great bad.

Francois and Betty Catroux apartment, NY magazine, 1968 via Time Lines Vintage
If your vintage room doesn't have Frank Stella then why are you wasting my fucking time, Internet?

from Australian Vogue Living via MidcenturyJo's Flickr
Okay now we're getting back to swank and sizzle.  (Swank and Sizzle is the name of the lap dance and steak dinner combo you can order at the Glam Grotto Hustle.)

That is straight up relevant to all design bloggers right now, don't deny it.  Except the art on the ceiling...?  That's how you can tell a real 70s room vs. a current design blogger room - there's always something funky in the retro room that absolutely confounds you.  Or the space looks like people are getting ready to have sex in it.

Exhibit A:

Last two from The Apartment Book via Desire to Inspire
This one has a "small town girl moves to big city but is broke and reluctantly meets porn casting director for the first time" vibe and this picture was taken three seconds before his dick got some fresh air.  The name of the porn would obviously be "Welcome to the Jungle" with the cover shot taken in front of that tree in the back. But I'm totally blogging it for the windows and the white.  And for the leather tongue chairs but more to make fun of them.  They kinda prove my point.

A quality retro space needs to look like a pornstache lives there.  I bet there are some hairs of questionable origin on that couch if you look close enough.

And somehow we came back to white and yellow and black again.  I'm still feeling it but I can't help but squee hard for Platner anyway.  I think if photographed better it'd feel pretty relevant.  But then you notice the Wheel of (mis)Fortune white greyhound by the couch and the daisies - DAISIES? - on the table.  So close, retro room.  So close.

These last few images came from the bowels of the internet - a site made in 1999 (!) called Ugly Rooms for the Beautiful People whose sole purpose was to mock and shame the interiors from the 1975 Better Homes and Gardens Decorating Book.  

Based on the obscure and pedantic references I'd thought the author an aging queen who came out later in life and had a penchant for gin and making ditzy women cry at parties from the overwhelming intensity of his acid tongue but after a quick google search it turns out he's just a journalist.  And an old-school blogger.  Ugh what is it with bloggers lately?!

"It's just a bunch of crap tossed together with no theme, no unifying design, or color.  You just know it smells like old cigarettes and socks."

I'm not going to say that I didn't laugh because even though I really dig all of these rooms, this one probably does smell exactly like old cigarettes and socks.  

Let's get Lonny to rephotograph it and have wet Beyonce do some dirty bidness with those dining chairs Grammystyle and I bet even Mr. 1999 Blogger will be singing a different tune. 

But for real you should go back in time and read Ugly Rooms for the Beautiful People because it's much better than my 2014 blog. 

I would never make you cry at a party.  I would probably be in the corner looking at your wallpaper or checking out your floor tile and might make you cry from second-hand embarrassment but never because I was being pedantic.  I'm not even sure I'm using 'pedantic' correctly because I'm way more concerned with decorating my Glam Grotto (room vajazzling?) and trying to get my hair to do that thing that Jennifer Lawrence's does.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

That time I went to Germany and didn't buy Gummi Bears is a spiritual victory.

I feel like this blog is turning into a travel blog which might imply that I'm incredibly fancy but if you've been here for more than a week we all know that's not true.  I practically have a cowboy hat on my head during the flight I'm so redneck.

My company sent me to Frankfurt, Germany for an industry show and although I'd love to drop some of that design knowledge on you, I think it's best for things my real job pays for me to have stay at real work, yaknowwhatImsayin?

Pretty much what a lot of Frankfurt looks like.
So when I wasn't hanging out at the convention center above (convention centers make me murdery!), I wandered around the city like a delightful tourist and I CAN share some of that stuff with you.  Because Frankfurt is a cool city.  

Well, I wouldn't call it "cool" as in 'you're gonna find so much punk rock art and shit it'll blow your mind!' but cool as in 'wow, that building is pretty cool' and 'hey, that new shopping mall has a Chipotle! Chattanooga doesn't even have a Chipotle!'

I kid.  Mostly.  

To prove it's got some street cred, here's probably the best vintage '70s shop I've ever seen.  

On a corner by the Eiserner Steg I think...
I found this place at 7 AM a few years ago (I often sneak away for morning walks before work.  It's worth it.) and never got a chance to go inside but I found it again serendipitously!  The owner was dressed in all black and listening to thrash metal.  When you work in a cartoon rainbow every day, I think that's the only way to cope.

Most of the other tourist shopping - of which there is plenty - is more contemporary.

Like, from the future wormhole contemporary.  Or at least like Times Square with lots of lights and flashing signs.

This area is the Zeil and it has two - yes, TWO - H&M's.  I bought a scarf at one of them about five years ago and thought I was hot shit until Atlanta finally got one.  

Anyschnitzel, I did a little shopping at night but was most excited to see the rest of the city MY way.  The SAUCE way.  AKA getting lost a lot but having some fun adventures in the process.  I ended up having a whole day to myself to explore so I mapped out a rough area of places I wanted to check out, had a big breakfast, drank a liter of water to combat travel dehydration and stepped out of the (free) subway onto... a rainy street.  Gawddammit.  

But the universe is on my side because I had originally planned to go straight to a graveyard but the rain prompted me to check out a nearby museum that I originally thought to ignore for time's sake. Turns out, going there was the best decision I made.  Well, a decision the rainy universe made for me.

I visited the Museum Judengasse or the Museum of the 'Jews' Alley' which chronicles Jewish life in Frankfurt since the 13th century.  

Jewish ghetto highlighted above.
Pardon the brief history lesson but I found this museum fascinating not only for the historical insight which it provided but also as it applies to the built environment.  I feel really stupid and embarrassed in saying that even though I'm well aware of the persecution of Jews throughout history, I had no idea just how many hundreds of years BEFORE the late 19th century that Jews were forced to live in conditions much like those surrounding the Holocaust.

To me, the 'Jewish ghetto' was something that happened during the early 20th century, not a 14th century thing.  I read Leon Uris's Exodus when I was younger but I guess I neglected to read about events BEFORE that. 

Here's a partial site plan of the homes in the alley with the actual 'alley' running down the center.  The ends were gated and locked at night and during Christian holidays.  Three fires destroyed many of the homes in the alley in the 18th century and the gates were locked to prevent nearby neighbors to help.

The Sewage "pipe" was behind that back wall, like, a river of shit is your backyard.
Foundations of several houses are inside the museum so visitors can walk through them.  This one pictured above is about average width (you can tell from the site plan above) at about six feet wide.  It absolutely blew my mind.  Also blew my mind that I was one of three people in the museum.  Frankfurtians, what's wrong with you?

Once I climbed out of the 18th century mikvah, it had stopped raining (thanks, universe!) and I was able to check out that graveyard around the corner I wanted to see.  

This was Frankfurt's Jewish graveyard dating back to the 12th century (I believe).  I'm sticking my arms through a locked gate to get the picture above but if you zoom in you can see the hundreds of headstones on the far right covered in moss.  The bare, grassy areas in front are all grave sites that the Nazis destroyed.  You can see exactly where they stopped based on the line of rubble.  

Next, I spent a few minutes looking for a memorial I read about in honor of all of the Frankfurt Jews killed during WWII.  I usually have a vague idea where things are and just wander til something looks right or I get lost a few times. Turns out the memorial was actually IN the wall surrounding the cemetery and stretched a city block:

Every block is a name of the person and when and where they died.  The block at the bottom center with a few rocks on top is Anne Frank.  Her mother, Edith, is at the top right.  

Again, I didn't see another person - let alone a tourist - the entire time I was here.  It was almost eerie quiet which is particularly weird considering it's in the middle of a giant city and cars are literally parked three feet away on the road.  This is quite the opposite of, say, the setting of the Vietnam Veterans Wall in DC.  But I'm honestly rather thankful for the quiet because being there was really intense and deserved a person's undivided attention.  

I had to do some digging to even find these 'things to see' and it was by far the most important part of my trip.  People have been politely asking how my trip was and if I bought a cool souvenir and I've been answering with 'Did you know that for centuries Jews had to wear a golden ring on their clothes similar to the yellow badge the Nazis made them wear?' and then they back away slowly.

What I'm saying is, maybe I need to quite reading blogs for a few days and pick up a book instead.

But the rain had finally stopped I continued on my journey - my tourist quest to experience it ALL - and was pleasantly surprised to find this bit of graffiti a few blocks away:

Refugees Welcome is a movement to fight racism against people seeking asylum in Europe.  Maybe even all over the world...?  Honestly, I'm the worst tour guide ever.  But maybe the best tourist?   Probably the worst one of the those too because I think I wound up near the hospital at this point and hospitals are never in nice parts of town.

So I headed towards Tourist Area I Want To Wander Around In #2 known as Sachsenhausen.  

I'm headed your way, Sachsenhausen!
It's old school Germany and has lots of bars that serve giant platters of pork knuckle and pints of cider.  I didn't partake this time because it was 10 AM although I'm sure that's not frowned upon.

I bet some good pork sausage is served here.
And I'm not using big words to impress you with my expertise of Germanic languages - I had to google everything that isn't 'and,' 'but' or 'or' in this entire post.  I'm using this as a diary/guide book in case I go back and forget what everything is called.  Just skim through all the word parts, I'm fine with that.


Skimming... pretty buildings, blue skies... skimming...

Honestly, I'm surprised at how colorful many of the original buildings were.  Not only is the weather grey in January but much of Frankfurt is grey and concrete considering a large portion of it was destroyed during the bombings in WWII and rebuilt in delightfully (sarcasm) modern, post-war styles.

Makes me wish I could visit in the Spring because of this:

Museum Mile
I bet this is beautiful when it's green but walking down the River Main under a canopy of... German Crepe Murder...?


But I saw some green behind a big house and needed to pretend I wasn't in Pleasantville for a few minutes.

I waited ten minutes while a couple stood in this spot taking selfies in front of this cute little fountain.  Of course, I waited ten minutes to take a picture of a fountain so who's the idiot here?

Cute little fountain was the backyard to the Museum Weltkulturen - appropriately the Museum of World Cultures - which I just translated and really wish I'd gone in while I was there.  Oh well.

I swear I'm not as stalkery as these pictures appear.  There IS a path I'm standing on.  Possibly some homeless people living in the bushes but we respected each other's spaces.

I quickly ran out of green again but was excited to see more color when I crossed the river on the pedestrian bridge Eiserner Steg or Iron Bridge.

Inspired by that bridge in... Italy?, couples attach love locks to the bridge and each one is engraved with their names and dates.  Maybe pet names or dirty talk.  I don't know, some weren't in English but that's what I'd do but I guess this is forever and they're not tacky Americans so...

Is anybody getting a Beyonce's Superpower vibe here or is it just me?  I'm feeling it, whatever it is. 

Getting back to vintage Germany now, the Frankfurt Cathedral of St. Bartholomew or the Dom St. Bartholomew is right off the bridge... somewhere.  

Y'all, I can't remember the names or dates of anything but I can draw and color coordinate a map for you of any city I've been to!

It was mostly destroyed during the war but was rebuilt and seems like the pride of Frankfurt.

Much of it is constructed using this glorious red sandstone.  It felt really warm and - dare I say - comfortable in the cathedral.  Often big, official spaces like Notre Dame intimidate me (maybe because I'm a vicious heathen?) but this space was really wonderful.

Maybe because it kinda felt like a horror movie when I walked in.  I loved it already.

Also, this dude seemed really important and friendly.  You're winning me over, Germany.

The most famous part of Frankfurt is probably the Romberberg in Alstadt or "old town" adjacent to the Dom.  Starting in the 12th century, this is where all of the town's markets were held and the actual town hall - the Zum Romer - held the coronation ceremonies for two Holy Roman Emperors.  Sadly, I do not think Charlemagne was one of them otherwise somebody would be getting a free stowaway ride next year!

The Town Hall on the left. The second floor is the Kaisersaal.
Even sadder was that this area was also completely destroyed during the war and was rebuilt.  The Town Hall was rebuilt immediately following the war but the other buildings rebuilt in the '80s to look like 16th century German architecture.  Try not to think about that as you're walking around...

Actually, you can still think it because it's still really cool.  ATLANTA don't have shit like this so soak it up, tourists!

Detail of front door to the Town Hall.
 I don't care what decade this was built, that's some fancy detailin' right there.

The Ostzeille opposite the Romer.
Yes, there are souvenir shops on the bottom floors but it's still cuckoo clocks and teddy bears and I have no problem with that.  Germany is known for their Christmas celebrations, of course, and my dream is to head to this square for their Christmas markets.  LOOK AT THIS!

Fun fact, there is a Starbucks right around the corner from this place that's my "you got lost again but now you're found" landmark that has saved me several times.  You might think that that's a grotesque thing, rejoicing the site of a Starbucks in a foreign country but, lemme tell ya, in a sea of tourists and craziness sometimes there's nothing sweeter than the sight of a grotesque chain.  Even if you don't order a thing.

Also, they have a bathroom.  Remember, I drank a liter of water with breakfast....

Bridge of Sighs in the Paulsplatz.
This building probably won't let me use their bathroom.

Next I passed the reconstructed Goethe house (meh, it's just Goethe... I think I faked my way through that part of English class) and headed to the part of the town that was not destroyed by the war.  We're talkin' real, live, 19th (?) century buildings and shit.  Awww yeah, boi!  Let's get this architecture party started!

Somewhere near Kaisserstrasse. I don't know, I'm just wandering around...
This part of town is the financial district I do believe.  I don't know... I can't remember everything and my feet really hurt at this point and the sun's going down soon.  Please notice metal and glass skyscrapers in the background as probable proof.  

This felt both really gritty but really beautiful too.  Maybe it was the delirium after a long day or I'm drunk on water but I really liked it.

If the Zeil was the "Times Square" of Frankfurt, this area was Times Square in the '80s before it was cleaned up.  Or what I'm imagining it to be like.  I'm saying it was the Red Light District.  All the beautiful buildings on top of strip clubs, sex shops and weird foreign food markets that were probably selling more than ethnic foods.

I'm literally standing in front of a window display of a rainbow assortment of butt plugs flanked by two mannequins in full latex outfits to take the above picture.  I'm not exaggerating.  Staring to wonder why I didn't take a picture of THAT now that I think about it...

Fortunately I'm close to the main train station so I'm not walking towards my death (or death orgy?) in a seedy neighborhood.  You'll be find if you visit. 

Looking from the Hauptbahnhof down the KaisserStrausse
See?  Lots of people.  On their way to buy butt plugs.

But I'm done.  My feet are bloody nubs from walking for 5 days straight and I'm ready to take today's 2nd hot shower.

Ahh, my German home away from home - the hotel bar.  The last night I was there I was eating dinner alone because I'm confident like that and also totally alone at this point and noticed two American girls sitting next to me.  I was eavesdropping a bit and going to say hello because YAY fellow American neighbors but then I realized they were THOSE kind of Americans.  Those stereotypes of traveling self-righteousness and whine.  

They were rude to the waitress and even brought their Starbucks cups to the dinner table.  I don't even bring my Wendy's Frosty into Taco Bell so what kind of ill-mannered ass butts are these bitches who order Caesar salads when in a foreign country and drink it with caramel Frappuccinos?  My self-righteous American disgust towards them was palpable.  

They ordered a homemade apple strudel for dessert and then had the nerve to say it was gross.  Fuck you, it's an apple strudel!  I could eat an apple strudel at any time day or night and I just ate a bowl of pasta so large the waitress was noticeably impressed.  She gave me free coffee and a dessert because fuck yeah, Germany.  Also, I tip well.  We're all global citizens, y'all.  I only know three German words but say them all the time and it seems to work okay.  But Germans seem unpretentious and chill and I like that in anyone.  Also, the free desserts don't hurt.

As I was leaving with my free cinnamon roll bedtime snack, I heard Terrible American #1 say, "So on my blog the other day..." and it all made sense.  Fucking bloggers.  We're all terrible.  As you might have gathered by reading this long, self-centered post which I'll totally thank myself for next year even if you unfollowed me.  

And if you stopped reading a long time ago (which was probably a wise decision) the final tally is: 

- 2 blisters
- 10 swollen toes
- 2 liters of water a day
- 1 attempt to get into a hotel room that wasn't mine
- unlimited number of purty building facades
- 909039420394 espressos
- 1 incredibly invasive pat down at the Frankfurt airport
- 0 butt plugs purchased

Auf Wiedersehen!

(unless you unfollowed me in which case, sorry)