Friday I left work a bit early, in order to catch my train to Nuremberg. I had to stop by the apartment to have a quick second lunch and pick up my bag and tickets. I was running about seven minutes ahead of my schedule, so was only suffering from minor paranoia about missing the train. Needless to say, I made it to the train with plenty of time to spare. The train ride itself was 6 hours, with one transfer in Stuttgart.
I found my seat number, which was 96, and saw a cute guy seated across from my seat. I was super excited because such things don't happen to me, and even mentally planned the January wedding. Unfortunately, a rather grumpy woman was sitting on seat 96 and convinced me that I had the wrong seat number. Since I didn't want to look like a biatch in front of my future husband, I went and sat on seat number 46. Now let me explain - I had a ticket to Nuremberg and back. Seat 96 was the To seat, and 46 was the Back one. But I thought the grumpy woman was right and that 46 was my To seat, so I sat there, thereby taking someone else's seat. I'll just stop here and let you know that my moronity did come to light eventually, but by then the future husband was long gone. There went my moonlight wedding by the beach.
Eventually, I made it to Nuremberg and saw my dearest friend Inga after 9 yearS! In that time, she has become a Psychologist, got married, and had a baby. I, meanwhile, lost 30lb and am doing my best to gain it all back. We hugged enthusiastically, and after I asked her how she was doing, I asked her what was for dinner. I'm very prim and proper that way. Turns out, dinner consisted of brot (German bread), pesto, 855 different cheese, and the most fabulous salad I've ever had. I was in love. Salad was made by Inga's husband Olaf, who, from here on out, will be referred to as the Gentle Giant, because of this:
Now, there's one thing I need to mention. Actually two things. Actually both have names and gender. One of the things is a she. And her name is Sina. And she is a cat. Now, my fear of dogs has been well documented in numerous journals and pictures. But cats, I've had not much interaction with. Until this weekend, I always felt nothing but indifference toward them. Well, I take no pleasure in announcing that my fear of dogs manifests into fear of cats when dogs aren't around.
Confused? It's ok. Maybe this will help. Imagine you are hungry for food and excited to see your friend and her family. You made dinner and sat down to eat it. As you are eating, something brushes against your feet. You jump off your chair and shoot up in the air, thinking you felt a rat. Turns out, what you felt was really a cat. Let's call her Sina, for purposes of this illustration. Sina wanted to play with you. But she also has teeth. She can bite you. And she's a cat. She doesn't live by the same social structure that we do. No one will call her crazy if she bites someone. Be honest - wouldn't you be as afraid of it as I was? Wouldn't you fold your legs up on the chair and say a silent prayer every time you hear a "Meow"? Wouldn't you request, no, demand, that the cat be locked out of your bedroom and issue a restraining order against it? So what if she's giving you pitiful looks like these? In your heart, you know it's all a ploy to get her to like you, just so she can bite you and claim victory. So you lock her out of her own room and sleep with one eye open, in case she can open locks and makes her way on your bed. It's hard out there for an ailurophobe, you must admit! Here's a glimpse of Sina, trying to butter up the mistress of the house:
After dinner, Daniel, Inga's thirteen month old son woke up. I'm going to admit something here that I didn't tell Inga when I was staying with her: I'm secretly afraid of babies. I think they basically think, "Oh god, what a moron" when they look at me. And they'd be right. So they scare me. But Daniel, aka my One True Love, was different. The minute I met him, we had a connection. I knew he was special. He didn't cry when I held him. He even let me take pictures of me holding him, thus dispelling the myth that I scare little children. I don't have words to describe his cuddliness, so I will let pictures do the talking:
Tomorrow: Our visit to downtown Nuremberg, some insight into the history of the town, and my performance review as a part-time Nanny/famous Indian actress who is in Germany to escape from the paparazzi. For now, I'm going to sleep and hope Sina doesn't make her way into my dreams to get even.
No comments:
Post a Comment