The who of what?

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The past two weeks have been very uneventful. Apart from my trip to the North Sea I have not left Aachen. Most of the free days were spent doing nothing more than sitting around in my room and reading books that I shouldn't have bought when I already had too many to begin with. Partick came over a few times just to sit around and visit or play cards with us. Today, though, we went to a waterpark in Würselen called Aquana. It was totally freezing in there. And one funny thing about hot tubs in Europe: they are not even remotely close to being hot. We stayed there for six hours. There were two slides, one was for inner tubes and the other...was dull to an extend one never before thought possible. There were lights on the inside, which was kind of cool, but you might as well have been going backwards it was so slow. It was like going through a timewarp, but just very very slowly. Ralph came to pick the three of us up around 5 o'clock and we were at home for a maximum of two hours before we had to leave again for some kind of ball held by a group of old men wearing green jackets and lots of medals. They had a specific name that I couldn't pronounce let alone spell, but I would imagine this group to be a bit like the Knights of Columbus or VFW, but with a bit more aristocracy...and in German. They played music, not the green jacket guys, but real live musicians. Most of the songs were traditional German ones that I couldnt understand. Some of the songs were German pop, which I had heard before, hated, and still couldnt only partly understand. A few of the songs were English. A lady in a red dress sang a son from Cabaret, which I greately adored and, upon hearing this first song I thought to myself, "Hey, this might not be so bad." However, naturally, she finished up that song and moved onto I will always love you by Whitney Houston. And then it just kept tumbling down hill from there. So yea, the music was bad. Regardless though of my incesant urges to fall asleep at the table 4 minutes in I did truthfully enjoy myself. I always do. Or at least I try to, because every once in awhile it hits me all over again..."Oh my, I'm in Germany, aren't I..." Experiencing a repetition of realization on a daily basis makes it pretty difficult to find many things worth complaining about.

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