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Germany is fun, but I'm getting tired. And a bit afraid; the bombings in London were a little frightening, especially since I'm in a major European city and... there are subways and omnibuses here, too. YIKES. // So my concert is tonight at 19:30, if any of you would like to show up. ;) TOTALLY useless information: it's at the S-Bahn (the above-ground train, which is faster than the U-Bahn (or subway)) stop named BELLEVUE!!! Awesome. It's like I'm home again... // They have a café at the concert hall, which means I'll be getting coffee. // I had a mocha!! I was so excited, but after having it, I realized that it wasn't all that great. Oh well... I guess I'll appreciate them all that much more when I get home. Or something... // The water here isn't free. When you go to restaurants, and you ask for water, they immediately give you bubbling mineralwaßer that tastes terrible and costs more than wine. Now how is this an incentive for me to not drink? I don't know. But I really haven't been having that much alcohol at all, just a lot of coffee and Fanta (which, by the way, is the best thing in the WORLD if taken in small doses). // Staging opera here is so funny. They like to have at least one of the following (but not at all limited to just one of the following): 1) nudity 2) stripping 3) phallic symbols and/or prostheses 4) hot pants 5) orgies 6) anti-American propaganda. (NO... not at all enjoyable, but nevertheless amusing.) // Julia Mentan is coming to the concert tonight, and she sounds pretty excited about it. I'll she her reaction after the hour-long, intermission-less performance of sopranos belting at the top of their lungs very, VERY high notes. Not to mention that the music is oftentimes very dissonant and unintelligible. That's okay, though. // SO the kid named Reinaldo. He doesn't know when to leave people alone. This morning I was getting ready to go to the FU campus, and he suddenly rings the bell to my room, and then just walks right in and is like, "so, BUDDY, are you ready to get some lunch?" And at that point I wanted to either 1) throw him out of my fourth-story window 2) kick him in the balls 3) yell at the top of my lungs 4) all of the above. But I didn't do any of those things. I just didn't speak to him for a long time. And so I brush my teeth and go down to the bus stop, and he's chatting away about his suitemates who are dating, and I wanted to turn to him and say, "Reinaldo!! Why would I have ANY interest in your suitemates? WHY do you tell me these things? And why do yo always barge into my room and bother me and continue to talk to me when I'm obviously not listening?" But he doesn't understand. It's like talking to a dog. (I'm sorry, but it's true. When you're having a conversation with him, he never looks at you in the eyes, but off somewhere else, like right behind you or just to the left. And he talks all the time about his girlfriend that he hasn't seen in two months, and how it's so hard to "be good" (as though there were girls clamoring to be with him... which there aren't), and how he misses her but shouldn't stop checking other girls out, because they're "all so hot here." It's so aggravating that I feel like going through that list many times every day. AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!! DIE, REINALDO!!!! // Another kid, Matt, is meeting up with a girl that he met here three years ago from Denmark. It'll be interesting to see what happens. Because she's staying in his room. Whoops. // I think I'm done for now. That was a very long entry, especially when I'm typing on a German keyboard that has the Y's and the Z's switched (and other things)... OK. // And I'm sending out the postcards soon! I haven't forgotten...