I make my OWN adventures.

Today is not a good day for homework.
First of all, the internet connection keeps crapping out over here. I was downstairs in the veranda (I know, right?) trying to work on it, but I wasn't able to access http://www.dict.leo.de/, which just happens to be the best source of German words and their meanings ever. So I did all my in-book homework, which took maybe 20 minutes.

Ah well. On the way to school, guess what I saw!

No.

No.

No.

No, that's just dumb.

Seriously?

No.

No, but close.

Exactly! A cat trying to get into the front of a Renault.
Hey you, cut that out. You're a cat, not a mechanic. You don't even have opposable thumbs.


After school, it was time for an adventure. I wandered aimlessly into a Gamestop, and was shocked to find that the price of a brand new PS3 game was 65 euros. According to Google's money translator, that's over $400,000! "Bah," I remarked, as I walked on. The next stop was a bakery. I bought a bread thing with things on it. And ate it. Feeling chunky, I decided to walk home. I was a little despondent at not having found the adventure I was looking for. But while I was hanging my head and kicking an object on the ground while sulking with my hands in my pockets except for my thumbs, I came across exactly the adventure I was looking for: A slug.

Now, wherever you're from, I'm sure you're told whatever you're told. But lemme tell you- where I come from, when we see a slug on the ground, you can be sure it's time to SLUG IT OUT.Yeah, it's time to duel alright. Oh god, what's that? It's heading for a book I left on the ground! Jesus!
TIME TO GET MAD. I busted out everything I had at the slug. With a bestial yell that shook the very earth, I began to unleash all my fury.But the slug kept at it! The relentless barrage of slug-toward-book made me begin to doubt I could win it. But I kept fighting. They say there are no atheists in foxholes. I now believe the saying also applies to duels such as these.
But what's that? It looks like the slug is beginning to hang its head! Could it be? Was it possible that I defeated the horrible, book-stealing satan-spawn?
Ha! The slug was running away! THE DAY IS MINE. I threw my head back and let loose a victory cry at the top of my lungs. Now go back to your nest, your camp, your narrow gaps between plants and/or bricks, slug, and tell your comrades that I'll be ready for them anytime they think they can take a fight. I'll be waiting.
I encountered three more slugs on the way home. And you better believe I dueled EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM.

We toured the Goethe-Museum today, too. It's so interesting to see the house almost exactly how it was left back in 1867 or so, when Goethe's last grandson died. The house is HUGE, and it was given to Goethe as a gift from Herzog Karl August, the Herzog of Weimar back in the day. I'll tell you the story. But first, lemme go refill my water bottle. I just got some Mucinex and I'm itchin' to take it.

Back. Man, the water bottles here are far too large to refill in the sink. I had to go all the way downstairs and fill it in the shower. Anyway, like I was saying: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe was born in Frankfurt and lived his first 16 years there. Then he went to a University somewhere (I can't really remember where) where he studied to become a lawyer like his dad. But after deciding becoming a lawyer kind of blows, he started traveling and writing a little bit. He was in Frankfurt when Karl August came through and invited him to come to Weimar. Originally just as a visit, Goethe ended up living in Weimar for something like 50 years. While living here, he wrote his first book, "Die Leiden des Jungen Werthers" (The Sorrow of Young Werther) which was a series of letters from Werther to a girl he loved. Unfortunately, her heart already belonged to another, so Werther shot himself. The suicide rate all over Germany went way up for young men after the book was published. Hmm...

After that, Goethe started having a thing for Charlotte von Stein, a woman of nobility who lived here in Weimar. She was married, though, so the two were just close friends. They would write each other very often, until one day a decade later, when Goethe left for Italy for two years without so much as telling Charlotte or Karl August. Charlotte became pretty offended, needless to say. But when he came back, Karl August gave him the house I toured today. Huge, yellow, and in the middle of the city, it both increased my knowledge and appreciation of Goethe's life, and gave me some pretty annoying allergies (hence the Mucinex). While on the way home from somewhere one day, Goethe (who was the minister in charge of the library in Weimar thanks to his close ties with Karl August) was approached by a young lady with the name of Christiane Vulpius. She was looking for work for her brother, who each year had sent a letter to Karl August asking for employment, but had been ignored. Goethe got him a job in the library, but immediately fell in love with Christiane. The two of them moved into Goethe's house, but also had a white house built a few blocks away right on the river Ilm. It's still there too. Here is a picture of the big yellow house I was talking about, the one I toured.

Well, the two of them had kids without getting married (what is this world coming to!?) and then got married 17 years later. Extremely interesting, super great story, and it all worked out in the end. Goethe and Christiane ended up together, and Karl August stayed with him his entire life. I assume Charlotte von Stein ended up okay too, but I'm too lazy to look it up on wikipe- er, go research it.

Then I bought a razor! I haven't shaved yet. I'll do that either tonight or tomorrow morning. And as soon as I figure out a way to get these pictures from my phone onto the computer, I'll show another adventure I had today. It's super wonderful. I guarantee (why can I never spell that word right the first time?) it. Here are some more pictures from today, though.


Yeah, that's a poster for Faust: The Rock Opera. Yeah, I do have a new goal in Weimar. Yeah, it does involve dressing up like Gene Simmons and reading 19th century German literature. That's on fire.