Goodbye Freiburg, Hello Boston (Goodbye Boston)

For the first time in time a plenty, I've found some space to sit down and write in my blog, thereby sharing with the entire world, except those places running late, my little ant-like activities. I may be one of billions doing nothing but scurrying from here to there and back again, leaving weak little traces in the sand waiting to be washed away, but no matter; they are important little soon-to-be-non-existent imprints. Life is to be doing, and if you weren't doing, you'd be dead. So how did I get to my post on the scratchy sofa sitting in Eric Statz' 2009-2010 apartment, in which he made a years worth of little soon-to-be-non-existent imprints (quite literally. The house he is living in is to be demolished in 4 days. Were you to come here on Tuesday, you would see nothing of Eric Statz. But no matter, life is to be doing.)? Let's back up to the final week of Freiburg, in which I wrote four papers and thereby took care of everything I needed to take care to wrap up my academics in Freiburg, closing that blue booklet in my education and flying stress free back to Boston!

There was no such week. There was a final week to Freiburg. There was a week before that week in which I got two of four papers done. That was nice. It does appear however as if I still have two papers to write. German University mentality of "DIY" as in "teach yourself, our professors are just here to research," I never want anything to do with you again.


(Picture above is my roommate and best dude in Germany, Tobi, and myself, pictured where he grew up.)

My final week was full of farewells. Every meal was a goodbye of some sort. It's only appropriate that way; the people and the food are the two things I miss the most, and I miss them a lot. I've had five or six meals in America that haven't forced away my appetite within a bite or less. Often all I need to do is walk into an eating establishment and the waste, apathetic and indulging eating choices, and general fatness eradicate my hunger entirely. America doesn't have many smokers and has even fewer chain smokers, but it's got sugar eating machines and big balls of people. Smoking is not a healthy addition to a lifestyle. Eating donuts and meat out of a can for every meal (and dozen snacks in between) is in absolutely no way better. Food/healthy or unhealthy lifestyles, however, are a different post (this technique of naming a topic yet postponing its elaboration to an indefinite future post I have stolen from my best friend and role model in intelligent and writing affairs, Henry Kenyon. You can find his anime adventures here: http://www.outofmountains.blogspot.com/.).


This is where I lived in Freiburg.

This is my kitchen with all of my plants, which in this moment are very confused and slightly irritated at the removal from their homely habitat in my Zimmer. If only they knew they would never see it again. Heartbreaking. They sit now adapting to a new lifestyle on the balcony. Fortunately Eleanor is not there to pee on them. At least they don't have to deal with that.

Saturday before my departure. A friend of mine belongs to an artist group of 6 who have a studio. They had their premiere, full of free eats, drinks, and good bands down from Berlin. The opening was a huge success. The studio was packed for the night, the music was fabulous, and the art was wonderful ( Here is a link to some of his and a few others' works, if interested: http://kommode1.tumblr.com/Bildendekunst). I made friends with the uniquely stylish Joanna Tamara Maria Staczowski. She sews her own clothes and finishes a dress a day. They are lovely. She gave me a tape player with a mixed tape, because yes, she still makes mix tapes. Funny how badass out-of-date things are. You pull out your fancy ipod touch. I'll put AA's in my tape deck and rock out classier than you can imagine. Oh wait wrong side of the tape, hold on I got switch it. Oh man just give me a sec, I gotta rewind this thing. It only takes like three minutes. Ok there we go. HA! Hey, do you get that fuzz in the background when you turn your music up to any audible level? No? Hm. Must be a bad recording.
In all seriousness one of the greatest mixes I have, thank you Joanna. Also, thank you Apple for making great products. Although I carry around my mix tape and tape player from time to time (seeing as I have no way to transfer the tape to my iTunes), I bought myself a new iPod within hours of landing in Boston. Those months without my music in Freiburg were pretty killer.

The farewell dinner of all farewell dinners: the apartment farewell. Andy, Tobi, Lucia, I will miss you, in fact I already do. Sigh sigh sigh. We each now hold the possibility for one another for random encounters with people we know in far reaches, or close by reaches, in any corner of our very accessible world.

There were only two occasions all year for me to wear my suit. Two nights before I left a friend and I made it three, going to a wear-your-nice-suit restaurant on top of Freiburg. The sky was like this for over an hour. Lovely.

My last night in Freiburg consisted of rounds bought by waiters saying goodbye at my favorite cafes, board games until 4 am, gift exchanges, and a tired 5:38 tram ride to the train station. I fell asleep on top of my luggage in the train's hallway, and woke up in Boston (in the Apple store). I must have woken up for several different connections between trains and planes, but I don't remember that so much. Freiburg, I miss your tram convenience and your food. I miss all my friends, I miss the intelligent surroundings, I miss the closeness of everything. But the year is over, and it's a good year to be at its end. A good start, a full middle, even when full of nothingness, and an end with a period. One day I'll be back for an epilogue, but the story within Freiburg is over. The story with the people may continue elsewhere some other time. For now I can write about other things. Like the awesomeness of Lazy Jane's, but I'll do that in another post.

Boston. Boston is... Boston is act three of a tragedy, kind of. I mean, not really; my story isn't tragic, and Boston's act isn't comic relief. But it has very little to do with the rest of the play and kind of just has a change of pace, adjust-in-your-seats-for-a-bit kind of role.

Boston hasn't much to do with me. With me now, that is. Boston was my childhood, but my childhood has gone by. I'll always be mama Jone's daycare Ben, but only in memory and foundation. When I go to her house now, it's not for tiny cut up pieces of orange and naps (although on second thought, those are two things I still frequently receive in the kenyon household). Boston was my high school city, but high school is also years gone by. Boston is now the home of my father, but it's not my home. Not my now home. My home is with me, on the move, and in the places I've included in my college life: Madison and Freiburg.

Streets are different, storefronts are different, and faces are different. The one thing that still puts me happily at home in Boston is my bike and my music. Therefore, here are some pictures of my daily bikings in the East Coast's greatest city.

Southwest Corridor is repaved!

Yesss. Biking in Boston is home.

My dad and I went to Fenway for a baseball game. That was very fun.

Here, a little insight into Baseball, für das schöne Volk in Freiburg.

Fenway Park, built in 1912, the oldest Ballpark in the States. And the most beloved, of course.

Boston's departure was abrupt. Nice meals with old friends and family, a baseball game, a 5k race with my father (who got first in his division, go dad!), and that's it. Just like magic, I'm in Madison.

Introductions to college home soon to come. Stay active stay happy. :) love and peace.

Ben.