As some of you know I love to sleep. On average I fall asleep three to
six minutes after I close my eyes and rarely stir until my dreaded
alarm goes off. I'll also freely admit that I still need a regular 10
hours of sleep a night. It's ridiculous, I'm like a child.

I also have an issue that no matter how much sleep I have gotten I am
usually slightly sleepy or almost always would be willing to take a nap.

In fact an ex-boyfriend who is not as kind as Chris used to be a real ass to
me about it and when I would say I was tired he would kind of give me a
half eye roll/dirty look and say "aren't you always tired?". In
fact, I might have developed a slight complex from it but that for
another post, a book really, called "complexes and hatred for The Red
Hot Chili Peppers caused ex-boyfreinds".

That being said I have an issue: omg public transportation in Europe
makes me SO sleepy!

Seriously, put me on a bus, train, tram, subway, etc at any time of
day and my eyelids will get heavy and I'll start to yawn!

While this isn't a heavy burden on short or very long rides it's
worrysome on the medium lenght trips. Missing my station would be such
a giant pain that could add hours onto a travel day. While some of you
might doubt my ability to sleep so intensely I give you this story:

The morning Chris, Eddie, and Allan left Germany I walked them to the
subway stop and wished them bon voyage before going back to the hostel
and sleeping for another 2 hours. After waking from my nap I packed my
things, checked out of the hostel, crossed the street, and got on a
train to Berlin. I was still sleepy so I shoved my jacket against the
window and closed my eyes. But, before I went to sleep I made sure my
train pass was on my lap but under my hand so the conductor could see
it when checking tickets and maybe wouldn't wake me. Two and a half
hours later I woke up rubbing eyes and trying to tell if anyone had
noticed that I had been slightly drooling. My ticket was still under
my hand and in fact it wasn't checked for the rest of the trip. This
was a little surprising because I was on the more expensive highspeed
train but not completely out of the ordinary. 4 days later I'm on a
train from Berlin to Prague and I get out my train pass to write intge
date when I make a huge discovery: my ticket WAS checked! Evidently
while I was asleep a conductor came by, punched my ticket and then
replaced my hand and I never woke up!

So, I'm not sure if there is a moral to this story; but from now on I'm
only letting myself fall asleep on trains when I have my alarm set to
wake before my arrival time or copious ammounts of time to sleep
before my stop!

Enya? Hellya!

Here's a little hostel wisdom for all of you:

Hostels are loud. Really loud.

This morning I was woken up at 6:45 am. I don't think you understand. SIX FOURTY FIVE IN THE MORNING!! Because my "roommate" seemed to be packing with the light on after she had gone to bed at 9 the night before. I was NOT pleased and am still a little bitter.

So what did I do? I gave the death stare, put on my ipod, and jammed my head under my pillow with a loud huff. I refuse to be mature when
woken unnessicarily at 6:45 am. What did I choose to listen to you must be asking?


That's right my friends. New age Celtic instrumental music does the trick for me. It's soft enough to put me to sleep but encoherent
enough that I never really have any idea of words. And the strange
nonsensical rhythms help block out random noises. It's completly
perfect except I usually wake up and my iPod is completely tangled
around my body...

Steve Jobs and Apple Corp
142 Machintosh Street
Somewhere west coast

My iPod is a liar. According to my iPod my 25 most played songs include:

- little red jumpsuit: face down
- dashboard confessional: screaming infidelities as well as 4 other dashboard songs
- fergie: glamorous
- gym class heros: Cupid's chokehold
- good charolette- I don't wanna be in love
- the instrumental version of my life will go on from titanic

Steve, I'm sure you have been teased in the past for being a nerd or a
computer geek. Then you should be able to sympathize with my situation; this list is embarassing and deserves to be made fun of. It's like the iPod's version of "now that what I call music: best of 2008". I didn't even know I had Good Charolette on my ipod so how can they be in my top 25 most played? Does my iPod hate me and want to embarass me by inventing this list of most played? Do I listen to this music in my sleep? What is happening?

Please Steve! Spare me the shame!

Embarassingly yours,

Hello love bugs!
I'm off to take a long walk around Marseille, my home for the next few
days. But I'll be sure to keep my eyes open for interesting stories to
tell you!

Oh! And I'll tell you all about my minor scooter accident!

A Texas Tradition

I miss home. A lot. Or it's not really home that I miss but more the
people and my very happy life in Dallas. As some of you know, last
weekend was OU/TX weekend. I can't explain this weekend perfectly to
non-Dallasites but I'll give it my best shot. Every year, what I
consider the biggest rivals in the Big 12 football converence meet
head to head in my hometown. My city and my favorite hangouts are
swamped with dueling Texas and Oklahoma fans. For OU/UT weekend you
really have only 2 choices: leave town or embrace the game, strap on a
band waggon t-shirt, and join in for a day filled with Big 10 fun. I
defenitely prefer to take part in the day. I'll be honest, I don't
care who wins. Chris is from Oklahoma and is a huge OU fan so just for
the sake of my releationship I would have cheered for OU this year.

So here comes the part where I whine for a while. I really have no
right to whine: I'm traveling across Europe Iand was in Cannes over
the weekend. But it's my blog and I'll do what I want! I missed OU/UT
weekend this year. There was a giant party with all of my friends and
a chili cookoff. I make great chili! I like parties! I like to watch

I can handle not sleeping in my own very comfy bed for months, having
to search to find the way to flush the toliet, the language barriers,
and all of the other challenges faced during traveling. But most of
all I miss life at home. How can it be passing on without me?

When I though of St. Tropez before my arrival today I had a very
glamourous image of perfect rays of sunshine glimmering across the
gentle waves of the Medeteranean hightlighting the decks of spotless
white yatchs topped by beatifil sunkissed bodies in tiny swimsuits
drinking martinis or flutes of expensive champagne.

Not so much. In fact, on this overcast mid-October day this city is
more a sleepy city filled with old men playing a French game called
boules which is similar to bocce, kids playing tag across a park, and
sleepy curving streets.

My first experience in St. Tropez was in direct opposition to my
glamourous image. Upon arrival, I stopped in a grocery store to buy a
baguette, cheese, and a pear to combine with the tuna salad I had made
at the hostel for a easy lunch. When I was checking out a homeless
man came into buy a cheap 1Euro beer. The manager approached the man
and said he had already had enough and would have to leave. The man
started agrue that he had enough money to buy a beer and told the
manager that he simply was having a picnic in the park and wanted a
beer to quench his growing thirst. The manager, I suspect in order to
avoid a scene or maybe because of his detailed story,, told the man he
could buy this beer but he would not be allowed to return to the store.

I know I have an overactive, yet stereotypical, imagination. Maybe
St. Tropez is filled with bikini-clad Megan Fox look alikes during the
summer but on a chilly Tuesday in late October St. Tropez is nothing
more than a French village on the seaside filled with average French
people wrapped in coats and scarves experencing the same social issues
of homelessness we have at home in Dallas.

I have a plan!

My Plan: have no real plan for the next 2 weeks.

Does that count?

This is the first time since I arrived in Europe a month and a half
ago where I haven't been rushing from giant city to giant city in
order to make a check on my "to see" list before I hadto meet family
orfeiends somewhere in nomire than 8 days. Don't get me wrong, I
loved being with my family and friends (hi Mom, Chris, Allan, Eddie,
Audrey, Jill, and Allyson!) but I am excited fir the chance not to plan.

As of right now I'm planning to leader across the South of France for
the next 3 weeks making my way to Spain. Basically, I will move a
little farther west every 2-3 days deciding the night before where I
will go based on a loose list of ideas I have collected. Maybe it's
not the most exact plan, but it's working for me right now.

A plan-less Meredith

p.s. Could I have said plan any more times in that post? (to those of
you who get the reference please re-read the sentence in Chandler Bing
sentence structure)

1. I hate newspapers where the newsprint rubs off on your hands
(International Herald Tribune- I'm giving you one intense stink eye
right now. And don't even get me started on the fact that you cost 3

2. I once had a copy of The Catcher In The Rye with white covers that
had the same issue. By the time I had finished the book the covers
were coated in smudgey grey fingerpirnts.

3. The Financial Times, you know- the pink paper, is smudge-proof!

3 pidgeons eatting pebbles in a park in St. Tropez. I realize it helps
aid digestion or something but it still gives me the creeps.
Hello my loves!

I'm terrible at blogging on a consistent basis. I'm not sure why I
can't get it together regularly; I think it's because a full blog post
seems like a grand undertaking where I have to write clever,
informative, and entertaining prose. So instead of just a little
boring something I write nothing. But then again, I'm not sure that I
am ever clever, informative, or ensughtful so I should just write!

So, I am attempting to reform! I have just discovered that it is
possible to email in blog posts so now I will be working on posts and
then uploading them!

Now, for your surprise (which sadly is not your very own pet unicorn)
and as your reward for your patience and dedication I have written,
submitted, and scheduled 4 posts to be revealed in the next 2 days!
That's right y'all! You get to read me babble 5 times in the next 48
hours!!! Woooooooohoooo!

At least pretend to be excited?


jealousy: I haves it

I have a confession to make. And like all good confessions I think I should tell the entire internet:

OMG. Stephanie Lauren Kahan I am so jealous of all of your witty blog titles. I know you've always been really really good at being good with words; think of all of the hilarious nick names, secret clubs, and inside phrases you created for us in college! But still! I want to be as clever as you!

That is all. I feel sort of better.

Check out her annoyingly perfectly witty blog titles at:


Serious Moments: Dachau

On Chris's last full day in Germany, he and I went to the Dachau concentration camp 30 minutes outside of Munich. It was a stark contrast between the frivolous fun of Okobterfest and the inherent darkness of Dachau. I didn't take any pictures when I was at Dachau. Somehow it didn't seem right. I know that pictures help up remember things we never want to forget, and in no way do I want to forget what I saw; I can't explain why I didn't take photos, it just didn't feel right to me. It wasn't my path for understanding all that had transpired there. And, please understand, I think everyone's path for understanding atrocities is different.

The holocaust is so incredibly unexplainable to me. I don't understand how so many people could have become desensitized to mass killings based on such small ethnic differences; the victims and their captors were neighbors, friends, and co-workers. Or if they didn’t have a direct relationship to one another they had relationships with someone ethnically similar to the prisoners in the concentration camps.

I can understand how the average German citizen could passively allow the Holocaust to begin. When the Nazis seized control they were able, through a manipulation of government power, to capture and jail any political opponents. I can imagine that as a German citizen you wouldn’t agree with the National Socialists (Nazis) at first but by the time you realized the true horror of what is happening you have no real choice but to be silent. If you spoke out you or your family will be hurt, killed, sent to a concentration camp yourself, who really knew what would happen to you?

But what is truly terrible to me and absolutely unexplainable is the actions of the people who knew what was happening from the beginning and allowed or encouraged the plans and eventual actions. How could you be a guard in a concentration camp, an officer ushering people into cattle cars, or one of the hundreds of other jobs involved? I have debated which is worse: knowing what you are doing is terribly wrong or letting yourself become so brainwashed with hatred that you enjoy your job? I don’t have an answer; I don’t think I ever will.

It makes me wonder if I have become adjusted to injustice in the world. What could I be ignoring or turning a blind eye to because it's easier or doesn't affect my family or friends? The war in Darfur? Remaining daily racism and anti-Semitism? Educational and health inequalities between American races and social classes? Or even more dramatic, the inequalities between Americans and non-Americas? And if I can see these things occurring what can I do personally? Donate money? Write to congress? Quit my easy American life and become a relief worker?

I don’t think there are any easy answers. I wish there were.

Guten morgen!

Good morning one and all!

Hopefully you guys are still asleep and no one is awake at 6:35 am getting ready for work! Most of you know this but I am NOT a morning person. At my last job one of my co-workers was C, former roommate and a college bff, and women who we worked with asked C if I didn't like them because I refused to talk to them in the mornings. I then felt like I had to go explain to them, it's not you I hate in the morning but simply the entire world. I hate mornings. And to be honest, I hate morning people; or hate them in the mornings at least!

Hostels are not really sleeping friendly environments. I realized the other day that I have not slept straight through the night since I arrived in Europe. In a hostel there is always someone snoring or a drunk person coming home loudly at 4 am or someone with a disgusting hacking cough or someone waking up and packing with the lights on at 5 am. This lack of full sleep only adds to my early morning hatred.

So, if you encounter me somewhere across the world here is my best advice:

1. Don't take my anger personally
2. Don't try to talk to me. Seriously, chitchat in the morning will be received with only one word responses and the death glare.
3. Ignore my giant ponytail that I have yet to fix that is awkwardly dangling from the side of my head because I'm too tired to raise my arms and make myself look some what presentable.
4. Wait until I talk to you.

Once I talk to you then you know I am now ready to incessantly talk about nothing (as I am prone to do) and I, once again, feel filled with raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens, snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes, and all of my of other favorite things.

A Suessian Ode to Berlin

I'm in Berlin

Berlin I'm in

That Berlin-I'm-in
That Berlin-I'm-in
I do not like that Berlin-I'm-in!

Do you like
soaked shoes and socks?
I do not like them, Berlin-I'm-in.
I do not like
soaked shoes and socks!

So, Berlin. Berlin-I'm-in. I'm afraid that Berlin may become the city that I irrationally dislike during my entire trip. In 36 hours I've been totally soaked twice by very cold rain.

Now, you may be calling me an idiot and wondering why the hell I didn't get out of the rain and stop wining. But I have an answer! I did get out of the rain! But the large majority of the interesting stuff (that so far I have found) in Berlin is OUTSIDE. Yes, outside, in the rain.

Granted, I did go to an amazing, indoor, museum about the Holocaust which is in conjunction with the "Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe" (intense name huh?) but on a whole I would have to say this about Berlin that has amazing free outdoor exhibitions, is covered in graffiti, and has a focal point of the former Berlin wall:

Berlin: look at the art on the walls of the buildings, not on the walls in the buildings.