The burden of Celebrity

One of the things that our organization does is something called "Spotlight", where a different employee every month is asked about their background, current job description, their career aspirations, etc, and these are then shared on the company's internal website for everyone within the firm. This month, I was asked if I wanted to be in the Spotlight. Fame, my dears, is addictive. After my claim to fame earlier this month, I was hooked. I readily agreed. So, I signed myself up to do yet another interview to promote my line of business.

I was told that this time, we actually reserved a studio in which Matt Damon filmed The Bourne Ultimatum. Actually, it was a small office with a camera, but I like my version better. I requested for a Black Limo with champagne. I ended up taking a tram there with my agent/producer AB. The makeup man was running late, so I had to do my own makeup. In the tram. You can understand how traumatic this is for a budding starlet like me. I also didn't get my gold door knob'd trailer, even though I explicitly asked for one earlier in the week. And who knew ostrich were endangered and hence their feathers couldn't be used to provide me with ostrich feathered hand towels? I threw a fit and they calmed me down with bottled water. It wasn't even rose flavored. The scenes that ensued were quite ugly. My agent finally distracted me with chocolate and I agreed to do the interview.

I can now say that I have inside information on why actors need to wear so much makeup: the big huge spot lights are really hot and melt a lot of the makeup. We were waiting for the camera guy to lower the camera as we decided to conduct the interview sitting down. I had requested for a leather couch, but got a plastic chair instead. I've made it very clear that I'm never doing another interview until my basic demands of a trailer and leather couch are met. As we sat to do the interview, I asked the cameraman if the camera really does add ten pounds. I was now regretting having that Movenpick as my second dinner. Thankfully, I was wearing a black jacket. Any self respecting woman knows that black is a slimming color. Unfortunately, I don't think it's going to be very useful in hiding the fatness on my face.

The interview itself was fairly quick - just a few Q and A. Since I have so much natural talent, the entire shot was filmed in just one take. I'm glad this was a video interview because this way my words can't be taken out of context. The last thing I have time for is to issue denials about things I may or may not have said about people I may or may not like. We wrapped everything up in about 20 minutes and headed back. In a tram. I was very late for my next photo shoot. Still no trailer. I'm going to talk to my Union rep about this.

The interview I did tonight is really my audition tape for my soon-to-be-launched movie career. I’m currently looking for a manager and an assistant. Please speak with my agent about required qualifications. My PR person arrives next week, so we're all set there. In the mean time, debate: What's a good color on me for the Red Carpet - Black, or Pink?

P.S: I'm off to Germany tomorrow afternoon to visit my dearest friend Inga, whom I have not seen in almost nine years! In that time, she married a sweetheart of a guy and had a baby, whereas I resorted to eating two lunches a day. So we have a lot to catch up on. Come back on Monday to hear all about my visit to Nurenberg!

Ramblings of an empty mind

Okay kids, time for a Pop quiz. Why is today the most important day in the week for me? Anyone? Hint: It was the day I found Paradise. That's right, today is "Good wants me to eat" day of the week. I went back to the Market today to buy some cheese for my Germany trip this weekend. This time, I was smart. I only sampled food at half the booths, so I had plenty of room to eat Samosas and make this nice yogurt dip thing for dinner. Since I have now resorted to having two lunches a day, and the expansion of my fat is now happening at an exponential rate, I am quite proud of the restraint that I exercised at the booth.

I need to go to the doctor because I have a hearing disorder. My coworker told me, "today is the warmest day, I hope you get to go outside and enjoy it." I heard, "today is WOMAN'S DAY, I hope you get to go outside and enjoy." The smartass that I am, I replied, "Oh, everyday is Woman's Day!!" Fortunately, he is now getting used to my insanity, so just repeated what he said a second ago, and this time I understood him. I think even I have given up on myself - there is no hope left for me anymore. One day, studies will be done on my insanity and journals will be written on it. For now though, those around me have no choice but to endure it.

Tomorrow, I promise to blog about my video interview that I did for an internal portal within the company. I've just been so busy trying to figure out what to wear on the Red Carpet that I haven't had the chance to actually write it up. Okay, have to go for now - my stylist is calling!

Jack and Jill went up the Hill - The Conclusion

Before I continue the Jack and Jill story, I just wanted you to know that I had two lunches today - don't ask me why. Actually, you could ask me why, but the answer is so nuanced and complex that it deserves a post of its own. For now, we march on with the hiking story. Yesterday, I shared about my struggle to go up the mountain. Today, we talk about how the heck I ever made it out of there.I'll pick up right where we left off yesterday.

Once we had our Rosti and took some pictures, we got ready to begin our descent. Now, this is where there was blatant false advertizing. Realistically speaking, when one thinks of downhill, the importance is always on the word down. Alas, that was not the case for us. We walked downhill for maybe 15 minutes, before beginning to walk up again. I kept asking JL if we were supposed to go down, why we kept going up. After the 20th time I asked him that, he turned around and said, "Uhh, I don't know how to tell you this, but I'm not an expert on the topological aspects of mother Earth." So I never really did find an answer to my question. What I did find, instead, were amazing landscapes like this:



And this:



JL cleverly distracted me by making me walk through acres and acres of these green pastures like this:



and like this:



So before I knew it, we were on our way UP, yes, UP, another mountain! This one is called St. Meinrad" and the route that we undertook was a part of some holy pilgrimage that someone took a long time ago. I bet the pilgrimage was to find a way OUT of the freaking mountain. This new mountain was news to me. This lack of mention of another mountain is akin to Goldman Sachs not mentioning that their subprime mortgages were deliberately picked to have bad loans. It was grounds for a massive lawsuit. I secretly texted my lawyer about our chances of winning unspecified amount in damages, while enjoying the scenic views of the Alps:



After what seemed like an eternity, we found a sign that asked us to walk down the hill to get to the Train Station. Which made no sense to me because we followed a sign asking us to go UP the hill to get to the Train Station. At this point, we had been hiking for roughly 5 hours, so hysteria had started to set in. Anyway, we made our way down the hill. Have a look at this picture, because this was the last decent picture we took, before we left civilization, possibly forever:



Why am I posing that way, I cannot say. Some things are better left unexplained.

Immediately after we reached down the hill, we were greeted by the forest. Not just some dense trees that we could walk around. No, this was a real forest. As in home to the animals. And other…things that I don't even want to think about. But it was at a lower elevation than from where we began. Which was good. I like lower. But there was a teeny tiny problem…we were lost. There was no sign telling us where to do to get to the train station. But we could hear the train and the road. All we had to do was walk downhill through the forest. But there was no trail. My friend JL, who is an experienced hiker, wasn't so sure about walking downhill literally through a forest.

JL gently suggested that we go back UP the hill that we just walked down and try to find the actual path that would lead us to the train station. But one of my principle philosophies of life is to never look back. So the prospect of not only looking back but also having to WALK back was just too traumatic. Also, by this time, I had been hiking for 344578 hours, had drank all my water, had started hallucinating about chocolate, and hadn't had any coffee. I was ready to grow wings and fly if I had to, in order to get down. I was ready to tackle a bear with my bare hands, and dropkick a tiger and a cheetah while doing so. Fortunately, none of that was necessary, as I soon found out that there are hardly any dangerous animals living in the wild. So slowly but surely, we made our way down. On the way, we found an actual trail that would eventually lead us out of the wilderness and into civilization.

We made it to the train station and took the train back to Zurich. Unfortunately, my adventure didn't end there. All the trams were messed up, and the announcements were naturally in German, so I had no idea where I was. But by now I was too tired to care. I was happy just riding the tram back and forth and taking a nap in it. Fortunately, good sense prevailed and I got off and took the right connection that would bring me back to my apartment. Once I was back, I called my lawyer up. We are looking into what sort of charges we can bring up against JL. I recommend that he look into suing the books and the maps that led us astray.

Altogether, we hiked up about 1100 meters, and walked across to the other mountain for about 15km. I realize these are just numbers to you, but to me, they are a lot more. They symbolize the triumph of the human spirit in face of lies, deceit, missing road signs, and misplaced definitions of "easy". We shall overcome!

Jack and Jill went up the Hill - Part 1

Before I begin, I just have to say one thing: HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD! Okay, now I'm ready.

When I decided to move to Zurich from New York, one of the promises that I had made to myself was to be more active outdoors. I resolved to go hiking once a week and bike riding at least 2-3 times a week. So, with that in mind, I foolishly agreed to what was advertized as an "easy" hike. Now, I don't know about you, but when I think of hikes, I usually think of long walks with maybe a few inclines and small hills. The word "mountain" is never a part of any of my hiking definition, let alone the phrase "top of the mountain". But, back then, I was young and naive. Today, I'm in pain and wise. So let's talk about how I came about my wisdom in 24 hours.

I met up with my coworker JL at the Main Train Station at about 10:30 in the morning on Sunday. I was there way earlier to try and buy tickets for Paris in two weeks, but my endeavor was unsuccessful, so I ate some chocolate for therapeutic purposes. We took a train to Pfaffikon, which is about a 40 minute train ride out of Zurich, where we got off to begin our "hike". JL had the map so I just blindly followed him wherever he led. We initially passed a farm and were greeted with smells of cow dung and slowly made our way to the top. Now, there's one thing you need to know about me: I have no idea what meters, feet, yards, or any such measurement units mean. All I know is that in all of these units I'm still going to be short. So when I was told that there was a 890meter climb that we had to do, all I knew was that the number 890 sounded big. Little did I know just how big it actually would be.

But before I talk about the actual hike, here are a few things to keep in mind when you go hiking:

1) Always carry a hair tie with you. Always. Men, if you have a girlfriend, buy some hair ties. You never know when she'll find herself in overwhelming need of one. If you don't have a girlfriend, giving one to a long haired woman who looks like she has come straight out of a horror movie because of the condition of her hair will instantly help you get a girlfriend.

2) Don't worry about blow-drying your hair in the morning, it's a lost cause. Just trust me on this one.

3) Always carry a hat, unless you want your face to be multishaded due to a ridiculous sunglasses tan like the one I am currently sporting.

4) This is the most important one: Do not, I repeat, DO NOT dress up in an all black ensemble, a la Angelina Jolie, on a hot summer day. Black may be slimming, but when hiking on a hot day, it's can also be killing. Me, I decided I wanted to be like Lara Croft and wear all black. Unlike Lara Croft, I am not in shape, and dressing like her won't make me so - a realization that's part of the wisdom I talked about earlier.

So after passing the smelly cows, we began our hike. First hiked up this small slope:



And took our first break here:



45 minutes into the hike, I foolishly believed that we had reached the top. So imagine my shock and horror when I was informed by JL that we had another TWO hours of uphill hiking to do. I vehemently protested and threatened to walk back down, but since I had neither a map nor the knowledge of how to get back down, I had no choice but to follow him. So, up we went:



And we kept going higher:



And higher:



At this point, we had alreadyclimbed about 400 steps. No, this is not an exaggeration, we really did climb 400. Each step reminded me of my fatness in ways I never thought was possible. I saw no end in sight and silently begged for forgiveness from the Almighty for all the gluttony that I had indulged in during my lifetime. I was convinced my meeting with the Maker was now imminent. I made a list of all the things that I still wanted to do, and all the food that I still wanted to eat. Despondent and defeated, I continued hiking up, because I didnt know any other way to go. JL, who clearly doesn't share my definition of "an easy hike" had already made it to the top. Miraculously, and after various fights with gravity, so did I! We were at the top of Etzel, which is about 1100 meters high.

After I hugged every single tree that was up top, I suddenly realized that my starvation levels were out of control. Fortunately, there was a restaurant at the top. I wanted to order everything off the menu, but since I'm a vegetarian, the only thing I could eat was either the Rosti or a salad. And I'll be damned if I was going to even look at a salad after nearly facing my own death. So I went up to the counter to place my order. The woman didn't speak English and I don't speak German. She kept repeating something in German, and I kept informing her of my inability to understand her. Somehow, I managed to order the Rosti. JL told me that we were going downhill now. Since I knew the importance of downhill, I was super excited. I took a couple of pictures at the top, just for you, before we headed down:



Here I am in my Lara Croft outfit, without the headband or the hat, developing the multishaded skin color that I am now sporting:



The panoramic view from the mountaintop was absolutely phenomenal. Pictures can't really do justice to the sights of the lake, pastures, and the Alps, all in one scenic setting. Even though I died nearly a thousand deaths to get to the top, I was glad I did.

Tomorrow - The Story of Downhill: How we made it down (or did we?). Don't miss the riveting conclusion to this adrenaline filled and thrilling hiking story. A story of Man v/s Nature. Of Hope v/s Despair. Of Road Signs v/s the Truth. It all ends tomorrow, right here on this blog. Here's a teaser for what's to come next:



Until then, Good Night, and Good Luck.

The Soul is Happy

I had plans to blog about my second claim to fame today, but that will have to be put on hold until next week. Because something very important happened this evening. I finally had good spicy food for the first time since I landed here. And for the first time in nearly three weeks, my Soul is well and truly happy.

Someone at the Expat forum that I'm a member of organized Ethiopian dinner night at a restaurant called Abyssinia. The invite said "...cravings of this type of food can't be controlled." So I knew I would be in good company. In order to ensure that I could make the most out of this event, I went back to the apartment to change into leggings and a top, so I could eat as much as possible. I found the stop closest to the restaurant, and upon getting off the tram, promptly got lost. This is a usual occurrence for me, so I don't even bother to print directions anymore. I finally meandered my way into the restaurant. The restaurant itself looked like your cozy neighborhood joint and held a lot of promise

I met up with four wonderful women for dinner. All of them were doing some sort of a Post Doc degree in mechanical engineering, math, physics, and other awesome sounding stuff. Earlier this morning, my math skills made me think that the 8th floor was actually the 11th floor at work. So when I found out what each one of them was doing, I felt like hiding under the table. But they were a lot of fun and make me feel welcome almost immediately. All of them were American, so we bonded over our love of Sephora, and cried together over the ridiculous prices of Manicures and Pedicures in Zurich.

The food finally arrived, and everything looked beautiful! The server brought our plate in this wonderful basket:


Inside this basket, kids, was Paradise:


Hunger levels were insurmountable by the time the food actually arrived, so photography was limited to just the above two pictures. We got one veggie platter for moi, and one meat one. I strategically stopped making any conversation while eating, so as to eat as much as I possibly could. The food itself was great - the ijira (bread) was the right consistency and the vegetables were superbly flavorful. It was definitely on par, if not better, than the Ethiopian food I've had back in the U.S.

Finally, after my hand couldn't lift itself up for another bite, I rejoined the conversation. We talked about TV shows and I shared my shameful history of waking up at 6:30 in the morning to watch LOST. There was at least one other LOST fan, but she was normal and didn't do the 6:30am thing like me. We all came to a unanimous conclusion that Robert Downey Jr. was super hot and expressed our common love for various other male actors. We ended the evening after everyone looked like they could fall asleep at the restaurant itself. I managed to stay awake until the ride back to the apartment, and despite my food-induced catatonic state, wrote up this post, just for you. So now I'm off to bed, and have a busy weekend lined up, so won't be back until Monday. Until then, I leave you with images of this once again:



Guten nuit!

Homage to Food

Why am I always in the mood
To keep eating more and more food?

For dinner I made a salad
While singing a depressing ballad

I even had some bread
To stop the voices from complaining in my head

However, a salad can never make me full
Indeed, this is not a new rule

I have always been a lover of food
For in it lies so much good

World peace can be bought with cake
While singing agreements, World Leaders can learn how to bake

Coming back to dinner
I tried to eat something that would make me leaner

But hunger levels were still on the rise
None of this, my mind could surmise

The stomach was still oh-so-mad
So when I fed it ice-cream, boy was it glad

It's important to make the stomach happy
Otherwise life can be well and truly crappy

It's now time to say good night
Dreaming of Hugh, I hope to be out like a light!

The Evil Snowman

Today is truly a great day. Not only was I full after just one dinner, I also figured out how to change the language on one TV channel from German to English! Never before have I been so happy to see Law and Order reruns. In celebration, I'm going to tell you all about Sechseläuten and show the outcome of some death and gravity-defying stunt photography that I did just for you.

Monday was a public holiday in the city of Zurich, in celebration of Sechseläuten. Sechsawho, you ask? Well kids, allow me to introduce to you my favorite new holiday. It's a traditional festival that celebrates the end of winter, hence earning the place of my favorite new holiday. Celebrations last over two days. Sunday was a local Parade with the children of the city, followed by a Parade with adults on Monday.

Monday evening, the procession ends at "Sechseläutenplatz" which is in Bellevue, about a 7 minute walk from my apartment. At Bellevue, a huge snowman is built that is burned down. Because this is Switzerland, everything, including the destruction of Evil, has to be scheduled. So the burning begins exactly at 6pm. According to tradition, the burning of the Snowman indicates an end to winter and beginning of summer. According to the folklore, the faster the snowman burns, the earlier summer beings, and the longer it lasts.

Now that you've had your history lesson, let's talk about what actually happened. On Sunday, I inadvertently stumbled upon the children's Parade. I was trying to get the tram to go to the Main Train Station, but none of the trams were running. So I started walking towards Bellevue and came across food stalls on the way. Here's another important life lesson: Where there's a Parade, there's food. My day immediately started looking up. I had already missed my train, so I decided to catch some of the Parade. As I hadn't lined up early enough, I was in the back row and could barely see the trees on the other side of the street. An elderly couple took pity on me and let me go sit on the curb with all the little kids. Here are some pictures I managed to take of the parade:



Most of the kids in the Parade were handing out candy to the other kids on the street. I resisted the urge to extend my arm out and wrestle for some candy with 4 year olds.



See the little girl in the extreme left corner? She turned around and told her parents, "I waved and smiled at one of the boys but he didn't smile back." Story of my life sister, story of my life.

I decided to be a professional photographer and climbed atop a pole, just to take this picture for you:



This one below was taken by me dangling off a tree like a monkey. Such are the death-defying risks I take for you. Some people may claim that this was taken from a balcony just above the street, but what do they know?



Now, you may have noticed a trend here. I have tons of pictures of the parade and the crowd, but none of the Burning Snowman. There is a reason for that. Here's what happened: Monday afternoon, I joined a coworker for an easy 5k hike that turned into a 10K one. We headed back to Zurich way before 6pm. I had full intention of hanging out there until 6pm to celebrate the destruction of the Evil Snowman and all that he represents, to take some pictures, and to head back. That was the plan. But you know what they say...Life happens when you are busy making plans. So, as I was planning out the next few hours of the evening, this happened:



Remember how I said that there were tons of food stalls? Well, I had a sudden urge to stop at every single stall for a quick bite. So I had mango juice, Chocolate Crepes, some rice and curry - all within a span of 30 min.

At the end of it, I had reached a now familiar state of Food Coma, and had no other choice but to go back to the apartment before I caused a medical emergency at the Burning Snowman event. God forbid I delayed the burning by even a few minutes - that would be catastrophic here in Swissland. So head back I did. But fear not, I have been told that the snowman died a quick death, indicating a long and prosperous summer. Which is great, because now I can have my ice cream by the lake. I've heard that calories don't count if you eat standing up, so that's what I hope to do most of this summer. No time like the present to test that theory out, I say!

Food coma

I had plans to talk about my hiking trip and about Sächsilüüte but I'm in a food and wine coma right now, so nothing coherent can be said tonight. I'll try to eat a little less and share some interesting things tomorrow!

The importance of Downhill

In the pre-volcanic eruption Era, one of my friends from New York was supposed to be visiting for the weekend, so plans had been made to hang out with her. Since the volcano basically sent the world back to 1818, my long weekend suddenly opened up. I decided to go bike riding with a bunch of strangers. I'm badass like that. Actually, I found an expat group that was going for a "leisurely ride" along the river Sihl, and decided to join them for the day.



Since I don't have a bike yet, I went to the free bike rental place near the Main Train Station to rent one. At this point, I was running on schedule, which, due to my neurosis, meant I was late. My neurosis isn't under control until I'm running at least five minutes ahead of schedule. Anyway, the guy at the rental place was probably 22. He looked at me as if he had never seen a woman before. I kept asking for the bike, and he kept telling me that I was beautiful. I hadn't spent 4 hours primping myself up and had my neurotic look on, so I knew this to be a lie. He asked me how old I was, if I was married. I told him I was 32, married, and had a kid. Since I still look like I'm 16, I don't think he believed me. Anyway, many one-word answers later, I was off to the meeting point with my bike.

Due to my legendary moronity, I couldn't find the bell on my bike. Yes, the bell. So, as soon as I saw people milling about on the road, I'd get off the bike and start walking. I met up with the group and sheepishly asked them to explain to me the finer mechanics of riding a bike, like finding the bell. I didn't even want to explore the concept of gears; it was too much for me first thing in the morning. I also neglected to mention that due to my vertical challenges, the only bike I was able to rent was a Kids bike. Anyway, the group that I went riding with couldn't be nicer if they tried. They immediately warmed up to me and were extremely welcoming. There was also the cutest 5 year old in the group. I felt a strong kinship with him because our bikes were pretty much the same size.

So once enough people had arrived, we went off on our ride. I started well enough, but at the slightest incline, I would get off my bike and walk it up the incline. It was embarrassing because even the 5year old would ride the bike up the incline! A couple of the riders told me that my gears were too high for the incline and patiently explained to me the basics of working the gears. I mentally fell at their feet in gratitude.

About thirty minutes into the bike ride, I started to feel hungry. Some people are born ready. I was born hungry. Thankfully, there was at least one other person who shared my love of food and voiced my thoughts about stopping for a coffee break. I promptly threw my support behind her. Since we were all badasses for going on a long bike ride, we found a perfect spot that would reflect our said badassery: A coffee shop inside a Home and Garden store. Fed and emotionally satisfied, we continued our leisurely ride.



Until now, the ride was mostly flat and along Sihl river, with scenic views of faraway mountains and cute little houses. We were all chatting with each other and generally having a great time. For lunch, we found a nondescript spot by the river in Sihlbrugg. According to Google Maps, we were sitting under a Blue dot, but none of us could find that dot.

After lunch, things got interesting. The leisurely ride started turning not-so-leisurely. We started encountering inclines, that turned into slopes. "Well, this is Switzerland. Slopes are a part of the package," I said to myself. But pretty soon, the slopes became the package itself! After one point, my fatness overpowered my pride, causing me to get off the bike and just walk it uphill. Thankfully, some of the others did the same, probably to give me company. I also would like to state that rumors of old men bypassing us on their bikes as we walked ours uphill are categorically untrue. There is no pictorial proof of such things having happened, which means they never happened. Another rumor to debunk: reports of the 5 year old riding the bike uphill as I walked mine are also untrue. I don't know who's telling you these things; you better not listen to them.

After nearly 40 min. of walking the bike uphill, my will to live started to diminish. Only thoughts of eating the Movenpick icecream sitting in my freezer kept me going. Everyone else was definitely more physically fit than I was, which made me want to slap myself (after I had that Movenpick, of course). The father of the 5 year old carried his bike, the kid's bike, and the kid uphill. Me, I could barely carry my jacket. The views from up the hill were absolutely breathtaking. Have a look at some of what we encountered:



Here's me and and the fat:



We found ourselves up the Hirzel mountain area and took some pictures at Schieregg, which is a scenic view point. The volcanic cloud covers much of the mountains, but the view was still quite pretty:



We stopped for coffee and I blurted out that I would go back and eat a pint of Ice-cream. One of the men in the group asked me if it was a woman thing to talk about ice-cream in pints. I was too embarrassed to tell him that it was a me thing, so I heartily agreed. I also learned an important lesson: What goes up must come down. So finally, after we could go no higher, we started going Downhill. Now, when you have spent nearly two hours going up a hill that you didn't expect to go when you began the bike ride centuries ago, downhill is the best gift that you could ever ask for. So we went downhill from Schieregg, all the way to Wadenswil Train station, which is to the south of Zurich city. By then, I had started to just blurt out food-related words. Thankfully, we decided to take the train back to Zurich.

All in all, we covered about 15-20 miles, and that's not even including the hills. By the time I got back, parts of my body had lost all feeling. I soaked in the tub for a bit, and as promised, had that Movenpick, right out of the container. Then I passed out for a good ten hours. Even though the "leisurely ride" almost induced a heart attack, I had an amazing time. Met some wonderful people, felt some deep embarrassment, and fended off a persistent bike rental guy. All in all, not a bad way to spend a sunny Saturday!

Back on Monday

The weekend is really busy, and I'm unable to move or breathe after an 8 hour bike ride, so no new posts until Monday. Until then, debate: Ice cream v/s chocolate cake. In a fight, who would win and why?

The Art of doing Laundry

I had been delaying my laundry excursion for over a week now. Finally, with literally just one pair of clean pjs left in my entire closet, I knew it was time to do the inevitable. Let me walk you through my laundry experience. You will have new found appreciation for 24 hour laundry room availabilities after reading this.

Last weekend, I went to Migros to buy laundary detergent. The beautiful thing about grocery stores is that everything is described in three languages. The tragedy is that none of them is English. So if you understand Italian, French, or German, you’re good. If, like me, the only thing you know in Italian is “Pizza”, in German is “gud”, and in French is “Je parle francais en peu”, then you are in trouble. After much deliberation and an immense amount of self-translation, I bought laundry detergent that came in pink packaging. I used the same philosophy to buy the detergent as I use to buy my handbags: It looked pretty and the design on the packaging wasn’t too busy.

Now that I had the detergent, I was ready to go. But, you can’t just waltz into a laundry room and use it here! No, sir, you can’t. There is a sign-up sheet. Yes, you heard me. A sign-up sheet that has the days of the week, and time slots in 4 hour increments listed. I signed up for the 6pm-10pm slot on Thursday. So come Thursday, I ran out of work at 5:40. Not a moment could be wasted.

Since this was my first time operating unfamiliar machinery, I divided my laundry in two groups: The “sacrificial lamb” and the “too important to die”. Now came the hard part. I went down to the laundry room, and as I suspected, instructions to operate the machinery were in – German.



The washer was pretty intuitive, so I figured it out, but the dryer was a different matter. There was nothing written on the machine; only symbols. Some of the symbols looked like what we have seen on LOST during the button pushing days. I couldn’t take the risk of my clothes shrinking, as they had once before, so I did the following. The order of this process is very important, so make sure you’re paying attention:
- Looked up the make and model of the dryer
- Came back to the apartment and found the manual for operating the dryer in German
- Downloaded the PDF and saved it on my laptop
- Went to www.translate.google.com and uploaded the document to have it translated into English
- Understood the different symbols on the dryer
- Went back down and put the dryer on the right setting

I tried this process on the “sacrificial lamb” group, and it looked like everything came out okay. But I didn’t want to take the risk so I air-dried the “too important to die” group. That’s the other thing here; everyone just leaves their clothes to dry in the laundry room. There is implicit trust that no one is going to steal your jeans or your pullovers. I decided to embrace the Swiss culture and left my clothes to air dry in the laundry room overnight. But I locked the room on my way out. And I went back down first thing in the morning to check on them. I wanted to go down at 3, 4, and 5am when I woke up thinking about them, but I resisted. The clothes still were a bit wet, but I felt like I had done enough cultural integration so I brought them back up to the apartment to dry. I will be celebrating my successful laundry endeavor with Movenpick. We’re BFFs now.

Paradise Found

You know how when you’re just walking around, going about your day, thinking about what you’d like for dinner, and then BOOM! You discover something monumental? Something miraculous? Something worth living for? Well, that’s what happened to me yesterday. I had to go to the Main Train Station to buy tickets for my upcoming trip to Germany. I was expecting to buy my tickets and come back to the apartment and make something quick for dinner. And then, BOOM! I discovered Paradise:



This, kids, is the classy man’s version of the Farmer’s Market. It apparently takes place every Wednesday in Spring and summer. There were tons and tons of stalls displaying and selling everything from fruits and veggies to waffles and falafals. Food was everywhere. I was out of control with excitement. And the cheese! Oh my goodness, the cheese! This country is converting me into a cheese lover.



The market basically was my dinner menu. I decided to try a bit of everything and then decide on what I wanted to have for dinner. The vendors would all speak with me in German. I didn’t even bother letting them know that I didn’t understand a word of what they said. I would just point at what I wanted to sample, and they would give it to me. It was the perfect relationship. I had everything from bruschetta to 85 different types of pesto. I even tried a slice of orange flavored cheese. And yes, it tasted as terrible as it sounds. The problem with sampling a little bit of everything is that you are full…from sampling a bit of everything. But never let a little thing like not being hungry stop you from eating more. So I settled for veggie empanadas – a Mexican dish, made by an Indian couple - in Switzerland. I guess this is what they call globalization. And because this is Europe, everything felt homey.



There was an eating area right in the middle of the market, where this grandfatherly trio played Italian music and kept the mood upbeat. I had almost forgotten that it was gloom and doom outside, with all the rain and the cold and the darkness. Almost.



I also bought this:



This is rose flavored jam – and believe me when I tell you that you have not lived until you have had a taste of this. Coming from an almost non-jam person, this means a lot. This will help you attain enlightenment. The leaves will look just a little bit greener; the sky, a little bit brighter, after you’ve had this. And then you will thank me. And I will let you.

The Japanese Crisis

God's superpowers worked; my email life is what it used to be again! I can finally move past this crisis and focus on more important things. Like a new STIDT. I think it's been a while since I had one that was this embarrassing. So here goes: I was talking to one of my coworkers about New York and the kind of work I did there. He asked me if I knew Yashi Hibachi**. And you know me and my hearing issues, so I heard, "Have you been to (a) Hibachi (restaurant)?" I think I have this disease where everything sounds like food or dessert to me. So I went on to explain to him how I don’t frequent Japanese places too often due to their lack of vegetarian options. He gave me a blank for a second and said, “Uhh, I meant if you knew this woman called Yashi Hibachi who works out of the New York office.”

Sometimes, I think the earth just needs to open up and swallow me whole. I’m sure this will be beneficial to all mankind.

**or a similar sounding Japanese name

Good Morning

Dear LOST,

Please stop making my head explode at 6:30 in the morning. My feeble heart can't take it anymore. I am now having dreams about Richard Alpert on a semi-regular basis. To make matters worse, even Desmond stops by for a chat every now and then.

Obviously, Hugh (Jackman) isn't happy about any of this. Our relationship is getting more and more strained each passing day.

For the sake of my imaginary domestic life, please answer all my questions and restore order in the world.

Thank you,
Me

I met GOD today - The Sequel

As I mentioned yesterday, I met GOD. Many of you wondered what this GOD of mine looked like. Well, here's what he looks like:



Yes, I know this is Steven Spielberg. I only had two drinks this evening, so I still relatively know what I'm talking about. But I'm not kidding when I tell you that the resemblance between my God of Humanity and the maker of the Jones of Indiana is uncanny. I almost asked GOD for his autograph more than once.

Since today was the final leg of the war (or so I thought), I decided to wake up early and prepare for it. I practiced Yoga early in the morning and did all three of the Warrior poses for inspiration. But being at war is hard work, so by the time I got to this pose, I took a mini-nap and thus was scrambling to get to work on time.

However, I am happy to report that GOD officially has Superpowers! Currently, only one of my email accounts is active, and supposedly by tomorrow, the entire transition shall be completed. The Sequel has now become a Trilogy, but that's okay, because unlike most wars, this one has An End In Sight. It also helped me discover religion, much to the joy of my Mother. So the final chapter in this saga is set to air tomorrow at 9am Zurich time. If you hear a scream of joy all the way back in New York, then you'll know it worked. If you read reports of this having happened, then you'll know it didn't.

I had a few more things to talk about tonight, but Hugh Jackman dreams are calling out for me, so I'm off to get some sleep. I also have to wake up at 6am tomorrow to figure out and theorize on what happened here. So good night, and please continue sending your prayers and good wishes. Only with those can the God of Humanity defeat the Windows of Microsoft once and for all. Amen.

I met GOD today

This morning, which already seems like a lifetime ago, I had plans to blog about my weekend. Drinks and dinner on Saturday, brunch with some new friends on Sunday, thoughts on the Dalai Lama's lecture that I attended. But all that was B.A (Before Afternoon). Something happened in the afternoon. Something bigger than you and me. Something almost bigger than chocolate mousse cake. I met GOD.

Before we really discuss this divine meeting, lets travel back in time. Lets travel back to a time when trees were still covered with snow. A time when it was still dark at eight in the morning, when three layers of clothing were mandatory. A time we shall call March of 2010. The world was different back then. I was still in New York, even though I was already working on Zurich projects. Back then, I had one work email address: j.d@xyz.com. As I was about to move to Zurich, all my email and personal folders also had to be migrated over to the Zurich systems. Somewhere, somehow, I got a new email address: j.p.d@xyz.com.

Pay attention kids, because in the grand scheme of things, this is the most important piece of information: Since March 2010, I have had two email addresses. I, until now, had only used my existing j.d@xyz.com. The Zurich based j.p.d@xyz.com was something that was just there. Unfortunately, slowly but surely, more and more emails started being sent to j.p.d. I had no way of accessing the j.p.d email account, for reasons that I don't even want to get into, for fear of being inflicted with self-induced trauma again. Anyway, kind souls at work made me aware of j.p.d@xyz.com. To P or not to P became the question. I also liked the idea of actually getting all the emails that were intended for me, and not having them disappear in the vortex of Microsoft. So, I decided I didn't want the P.

Fastforward to April 5, 2010. I made a seemingly innocent request to the powers that be: please shut down j.p.d@xyz.com and make j.d@xyz.com my default and only email address. I was told that this would happen over the weekend, and come Monday morning, life would be the way it was always meant to be.

And today, kids, was that Monday. I went to work, beckoning in a new era in Microsoft Outlook, or so I thought. Imagine my shock and horror when I went to work and realized that nothing happened over the weekend! The world had not changed! There was still j.d and j.p.d! I frantically called over three different Helpdesks, and desperately tried to convey my trauma. But alas, no one knew what I was talking about. Desperate, I decided to close Outlook and relaunch it, hoping for a miracle. So close it I did. And when I relaunched it, this is what confronted me:



"Why didn't you just click OK?" you ask. "Why, thank you for that enlightening suggestion," I sarcastically say. I did click OK. The prompt wouldn't go away. I decided to try something radical and clicked "Cancel". The prompt still stayed. By this point, I had sent out an S.O.S to pretty much everyone in the organization, hoping to find a savior. But I was starting to lose hope. Depression had set in. And that's when it happened.

As I put my head down on my desk in despair, and angelic looking old gentleman with white hair and white beard came up to me and asked, "What bothers you, my child?" Ok he may have said something like, "I'm here to look into your email issues" but I know that's what he meant. As I looked up to him, I saw the halo on his head. Some people may call it floor lighting, but I know a halo when I see one. That's when I knew that I would be saved. And save me he did. This person made something magical happen. He gave me access to both email addresses! I could now respond to people on the P id, who probably thought I was extremely rude for never having replied to their emails. The white haired halo man who made all this possible, Ladies and Gentlemen, was God. That angelic figure who saved me from the Evil Forces of Outlook was the benevolent, all knowing GOD. At a time when hope had been abandoned, he arrived to restore faith. He arrived to defeat Evil.

But, his fight is not over. For tomorrow is another day. Night may have fallen, but the battle has not ended. Tomorrow, we take on the task of shutting down j.p.d and ensuring that only j.d remains. Tomorrow is the battle of Man of God versus the Windows of Microsoft. Will Good survive? Or will Evil rule? Come back for the sequel to find out how it all ends.

May the Force be with you. Amen.

Taking the weekend off

I'm busy being a social butterfly this weekend, so the next new post will only be up on Monday. Until then, think about this question that I was asked by a good friend in college everyday for four years: "What does anything mean?"

My claim to fame

Today was a very short day at work; I had to attend a Summit. Yes, I attend Summits now. I'm very U.N. like that. It was actually a Business Analyst Summit organized by my company for internal employees, and believe it or not, it was extremely informative and interesting. There was a camera crew, paparazzi, and celebrities. Ok there were no celebrities, but there was a guy with a video camera and a regular camera. Since I knew the organizers of the Summit, I was promptly nominated to be interviewed on camera to talk about my experience, etc. I demanded that someone do my hair and make up, that I get a big trailer with rose flavored water, ostrich feathered hand towels, gold plated door knobs, and a bouquet of red roses. I threatened not to do any interviews or sign autographs until these demands were met.

My demands were ignored. Instead, I was given a prepackaged carrot cake and a glass of water. That's ok. I know I'm not famous enough to be a Diva yet. So I had that carrot cake (and it was delish!), applied some lip gloss, and off I went to be interviewed. Because I know that this is just the beginning. Before you know it, Ryan Seacrest will be interviewing me on the Red Carpet for E!. I'm going to go practice my Oscar acceptance speech now.

Anyway, as promised yesterday, I have a restaurant review for you. Actually, it's more of a Pastry shop review. I did go to an actual restaurant for lunch today, but hunger levels were insurmountable by the time I got there, so no pictures were taken. In fact, I just ordered the first thing I saw on the display, in order to prevent death by starvation. I'll go back to this place again and do a review some other time.

Also, if you are expecting me to say things like "delectable to the palate" or "heightened state of decadence" then you are doomed to be disappointed. I will at best say "it was excellent", but mostly will tell you whether something was good or whether it sucked. So, without further ado, here goes my first ever restaurant review:

I decided to celebrate the fact that I finally have a cell phone by paying heed to my true love, food. Since this was a special occasion, I wanted to give it the proper attention it deserved. So, after much discussion and deliberation, I decided to make acquaintance with Sprungli. It’s a fancy pasty shop in Paradeplatz, which is basically the Times Square of Zurich. It’s right across from the Paradeplatz tram stop, which is where I need to get off and change trams. So yesterday, instead of just getting off and on the tram, I decided to venture into Sprungli.




The interior is very inviting; you are welcomed with sights of elegant Luxemburgerli (we’ll get into it later), bookended by chocolate based desserts. I basically wanted to buy out the entire store the minute I walked in. But as tempting as doing that is, I was on a mission. I had been told by everyone that I just had to try Luxembergerli – which is very similar to a macaroon. The key difference is that macaroons are heavier and more sweet, whereas Lux…are lighter and therefore less likely to induce emotional guilt. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of being introduced to macaroons, I’m sorry to inform you that you have not truly lived. If you are ever in New York, I highly recommend Madeline Patisarie. Better yet, come to Switzerland, we can go to Sprungli and have the better version of macarons!


After I stopped salivating at the sights of heavenly delights that I was witnessing all around, I walked around and checked out the store for a bit.
One of the most popular items after the Lux…were truffles. And really, after looking at this picture, you can see why. One look and I wanted to break through the glass display separating me and my true love. But sanity prevailed and I continued my exploration of the store. There were beautiful, prepackaged boxes of chocolate that were artfully arranged all over the store. I felt a little bit like a kid in a toy store – everything was just too pretty. The pastry shop sold mainly various kinds of chocolate, cakes, bread, and some premade lunch.



I made my way back to that what first caught my attention: Luxembergerli. There were over thirty or forty different kinds that I could choose from. I battled my natural instinct to buy one of each kind and settled for four of my favorites: cappuccino, hazelnut, champagne, and pistachio. I wanted to buy four more, but that would have required transferring everything in a bigger box, and there was just too much thinking involved in the decision making process. I also reasoned that since the store isn’t going anywhere, and I’m certainly not going anywhere anytime soon, I could always come back for round two, three, four…

I also did something that will make you proud; I exercised restraint! Contrary to popular expectations, I did not open my box and gobble up the Lux on the tram on the way back. Rather, I waited. Not only did I wait until I got back to the apartment, I also took pictures, just for you! So without further ado, this is the box. And inside this box, kids, is heaven. A heaven that you may have heard of, but never seen.




And this, this is why we were born. This is why we are on Earth. To consume this.
Each one melted in my mouth faster than the previous one. The cappuccino had a distinct flavor of coffee, hazelnut tasted hazelnutty, you could definitely taste the pistachio in the pistachio, and alcohol could be tasted in the champagne flavored one (I told you that this ain't no New York Times restaurant critique!). My favorite was a tie between cappuccino and hazelnut. It was light enough that I felt I could eat eight more, but filling enough to put my gluttony at ease.

By the way the little white piece of paper on top of the box reads, “To be consumed as soon as possible.” I took that to mean, “Eat it within the next hour.” So I did. Only later did I learn that it actually meant, “To be consumed now, or can be refrigerated and eaten upto three days after date of purchase.” But let’s be honest – do we really think THIS could have survived in my fridge, uneaten, for three days?

Love

I believe in Love. The idea of it, the feeling of it, the power of it. For most of my life, love to me has been...food. I love food. We all know how much. Especially desserts. My "spidey sense" tingles everytime I'm in the presence of sugar and fat.

Today there were cheesecakes, brownies, bunt cakes, and cookies by someone's desk. All these things were just there, within my sight, but not really open to the general public. I'd see people walking over, talking to the coworker with the dessert, grabbing some, and walking back. Finally, I couldn't resist; I went up to her, introduced myself, and asked her what the special occasion was. Turned out, it was the coworker's birthday! She had no choice but to offer me some dessert. And you know me, I don't say no to food. It's against my religion. So, I took a sliver of the cheesecake. Then she offered me brownies. So I took some. Then she offered me bunt cake. Took some more. Before I knew it, I was walking back to my desk with a plateful of sugar and fat. The poor person probably brought these in for her friends, and here I was, barging in and taking away all the food. She was too nice and offered me some more, but even I knew taking more would just be shameful and politely declined. But this is how you do it people. You want something, you go and get it. Don't let silly little things like manners and ettiquette get in the way of true love. The heart wants what the heart wants.

In other major news - I finally have a cell phone! I can now communicate with the outside world! Once I find the document that has the number listed, I'll send it out to you. I was planning on doing my first ever "Restaurant review" for the blog today, but I think combining it with this post would be just too much. I'll post it tomorrow instead. There are pictures and everything :)

Lastly, I am leaving you with a mystery to resolve. I finally woke up early to go running this morning. It was a bit chilly and cloudy, but there were quite a few people jogging by the lake. So here is the million dollar question: Why is it that when everyone else is running, they look like this:


Whereas when I go running, I look like this:

Mysteries Resolved

First, that "adventurous" thing I was planning on doing today? Never happened. The sudden and insane desire to have Raclette and Movenpick won over. I made a mad dash to the nearest Coop (grocery store) after work and bought these items. I was almost ready to open up the Movenpick container and start eating while waiting in line. And I LOVE Raclette. If I could marry it, I would. Usually, one needs a Raclette grill in order to properly enjoy it, but I'm nothing if not resourceful when it comes to food. So I just had baked potatoes and Raclette for dinner. The presentation came out quite nice; I was about to take a picture for you. But something happens to me when I look at food; I can't quite explain what. I forget about anything and everything, and the only thing that matters in that moment is to inhale all that is front of me. So no pictures this time around, I'll try to exercise a little more restraint for the next time.

Ever since I landed here, there are a few mysteries that have confounded me. I'm going to address what these are and how I resolved them.

1) My Hair: My hair is usually quite voluminous, especially after I blow-dry. However, for the past ten days, the hair has been exceedingly flat and limp. At first, I thought it was because I was sick (why I think such things, I have no idea). But this continued even after I got better. Thankfully, a good Samaritan at work told me that Swiss water is really heavy, and US hair products don't have the right chemicals to combat it. Locally sold Swiss hair products have certain chemicals that absorb these minerals that make the water heavy and leave your hair weightless. I immediately made a mad dash to the local grocery store to buy a local Pantene. And voila, it worked! My hair is back to what it used to be in the US!

2) Target: If there's one thing I miss here, it's access to a local Target store. I never really realized the importance of having everything from bedsheets to pots and pans and shampoo under one roof until I got here. I wondered where the Swiss went to buy all these things. Did they go to a different store for each product? Wouldn't that be a slap in the face of the "Swiss Efficiency?" Thankfully, someone at work told me that a local Migro (another grocery store) close to work had a supermarket on the lower level. So, off I went downhill on a cobble stone, wearing ridonkulous heels, and made it to the store without a single fall, which in itself, is an achievement, as you all know. One day I'll do a post of just how many times I've already fallen here in Zurich. Anyway, I went to the lower level and was greeted by the sight of pots and pans and sheets and bags and everything that Target offered! I just closed my eyes, stood in between the sheets and pans, and felt right at home. I also bought a "dual voltage" travel hair dryer, and a few other products. Which brings me to the last mystery of the week...

3) The burning hair dryer: My hair dryer saga is well chronicled here. What I just learned today is that even if something says "dual voltage", there is a small switch at the bottom of any such appliance, that needs to be flicked "on" for that appliance to change voltage. Since my brain isn't scientifically advanced enough to know such things, I managed to burn a "dual voltage" appliance.

Now for STIDT of the day: This morning, I was listening to a particularly good podcast of This American Life on the tram. I vaguely heard some announcement on the tram, but since it was in German, I didn't understand it/ignored it. Immediately, I saw all but one person get out of the tram. In that moment, I decided to be my own person and not follow the herd. So what if they understood the announcement? I didn't! And if I didn't, well, then it just didn't mean anything. And I went back to listening to the podcast. The display screen on the tram hadn't changed, so I just assumed that the tram was taking another route to get to Uteliberg (the office where I work). A little while later I noticed that the tram had changed directions and was now heading back in the opposite direction! Then it dawned on me that the announcement was probably about the tram NOT going to Uteliberg, but rather, going back to the yard (or wherever it is that trams go). I finally got off, crossed the street, and waited for the next tram. But as I've mentioned before, my ridiculousness is genetic. I'm just an innocent victim here.

Information overload

I had a dream. A dream that I would wake up at six and go running by the lake. But I had forgotten that I hadn't done a STIDT(Stupid Thing I Did Today) yet, so it was time for one. I tried setting the alarm clock, but couldn't find the "Alarm On" button. I know. I am a moron. Sue me. Anyway, as a back up, I decided to set the alarm on my cell phone. For some reason, I still thought that my cellphone was on NY time. So, instead of setting an alarm for six am, I set one for midnight (since six am here is midnight in NY). What happened? Well, the alarm went off...at midnight. Hugh Jackman was just about to ask me out and we were rudely interrupted by the incessant sound of my alarm. In my daze, instead of hitting "Off", I hit "snooze". So the alarm went off again in ten minutes. Finally, I turned it off, not realizing that nothing would wake me up at six am, especially if Hugh managed to ask me out. Luckily, my upstairs neighbor was kind enough to stomp around and make enough noise to wake up the dead, making it possible for me to get to work on time.

It was a short day at work today, as I had an appointment with my Relocation specialist (RS). We went to get me registered, and it was great that she was there, because the woman behind the counter spoke very little English. The RS was super nice. She walked with me around the neighborhood, took me to a couple of local bakeries, helped me find 2% milk at the grocery store, gave me some nice recipes for Raclette, and if that wasn't enough, had a 50 page binder on her for me! I think my questions probably made her wish that she were a monk or that she didn't speak any English. After coming back to the apartment, she sat down with me and went over everything from how to do laundry to where the nearest dance studio was. She even figured out where the "On" button was on the alarm! My brain is currently hemorrhaging information that she provided me for over two and a half hours. Here's the binder that we went through, in addition to the neighborhood walk:



The weather today was absolutely delightful, so I finally went out for that run by the lake. The run wasn't very good; I was distracted by smells of street food and by the sights of ice-cream, so toward the end, the run had transformed itself into a slow walk. It was still a lot of fun.

As a part of my two and a half hour indoctrination into the Swiss lifestyle, I discovered the following:

- There is no such thing as "Sign here" on any swiss forms. The woman drew an outline on a box and told me I could only sign inside that box, otherwise the form would be nullified.

- The Swiss have a garbage schedule. No, it's not just what days the garbage truck will come by, it's also what days can you dispose off certain kinds of garbage. There's a specific day to dispose paper, plastic, regular garbage, gardening garbage, etc. To dispose the wrong garbage on the wrong day is the biggest crime of all. If you come over and take a look at the pristine condition the city is kept in, you will understand why. Everyone in Zurich gets a timetable that looks like this:



- Everything here runs on time. Everything. The tram is never even 15 seconds late. It's spooky, but great for neurotic people like me.

That's all for today. I'm may be doing something adventurous tomorrow. We'll see how it ends and whether it's postworthy or just too shameful to even be put in writing. Ciao!

Visit to Lucerne

After delaying my "out of Zurich" trip more than once due to foolishly believing that when weather.com said "Rain" it would actually rain, I finally went to Lucerne and prayed that it wouldn't rain, even though liar.com said it would. Turns out, it did not rain, and the day was absolutely beautiful!



Lucerne is one of the main cities in central Switzerland and about a 40 minute train ride away from Zurich. The brother and I got there at around 12:40, and I was promptly hungry. Since we traveled there on Easter Sunday, everything was closed. Everything in Switzerland is usually closed on Sundays, but due to Easter, even the one or two cafes that are usually open were not. We finally came across an Indian restaurant, which thankfully was open. Had a good lunch and set about exploring the city.


Right behind the restaurant was the Lion Monument, which was a memorial dedicated to the Swiss Guards who served in Paris to protect King Louis XVI against the French Revolution. We stood there for a bit and saw a busfull of Indians run over to the site to take group pictures. One lady was shouting at the top of her voice in a thick, fake British accent asking everyone to gather around her for a group shot. It was all quite comical.

First up in the walking tour was a walk over The Chapel Bridge. This is a covered wooden bridge connecting both sides of the town and rumored to be the oldest wooden bridge in Europe. You can see paintings depicting Swiss life in olden days on the top of the bridge as you walk across it.

We walked along the other side of the bridge and peered into the windows of all closed stores. This took us to Sreuer Bridge, which is the second covered bridge and was used to fortify the city. Here's what it looked like from Sreuer Bridge:



We then proceeded to walk uphill, which proved to me just how out of shape I am. Trust me, running on a treadmill means nothing if you can't even climb a steep slope. I was ready to collapse after about ten minutes, and we had a ways to go before we reached Musegg Wall. The wall, with its many towers, was a part of the city's fortification plans. The main reason for the hike, however, wasn't to see the towers, it was to see the breathtaking views from atop the hill. Have a look at what we saw:



I love these pictures because it really did feel like I had been transported back in time, when the world was just simple in black and white.



Please ignore the dark circles; I didn't get my 12 hour beauty sleep, and my hair dryer caught on fire. I cried all the way to Lucerne.



Since I was about to collapse from breathlessness, a direct side-effect of my fatness, we decided to finally, thank you god, start walking downhill. The sun had just started to come out, take that weather.com, so we decided to have a cup of coffee and sit by the lake. What I didn't realize was that I was sitting behind a trash can and my brother has no photographic skills, so the only decent picture of me and my coffee has a trash can in the background.



I, on the other hand, was experimenting with my camera, and took some candids of the brother:



We sat at the cafe looking at this, talking, and just hanging out for some time.



Eventually, the real world, which in my case is almost always food, came calling, and we made our way back to the train station. Here I am, probably thinking about food and my dearly departed hair dryer on our way back:



Lucerne is really beautiful, as is, I am beginning to realize, most of Switzerland. I'm currently waiting for the weather to warm up a bit so I can go bike riding and hiking. But before that, I need to lose the fat to be able to lift myself up the mountain. Before that, I'm going to eat. Bye.