Going home

When I’m in Germany, I talk about “back home” and I mean California.  When I’m in California, I talk about “back home” and I mean Germany.

This time going home means Germany. I’m flying with Lufthansa from Los Angeles to Frankfurt direct and then I have to catch a train for nearly 5 hours up north to Franziska’s town, Neumuenster.  I’ve never been to NW Germany and I’m excited to have a chance to visit Hamburg.  Her hometown is about an hour from there so we’ll check it out one of these days.

Our new year’s plan?  Apparently we’re goin to have to filet mignon with her parents and brother and then whoop it up a bit. I’ve decided that I want some convenience meaning that I want to be able to get home immediately after the night is over.  What I don’t want is to be drunk at 3am and having to wait 90 minutes for the first train from Hamburg to Neumuenster so I think we should just hang out in her town.  I like her brother so I’m sure that we can have fun no matter where we are and what we’re doing.  That’s one of my favorite things about about Franziska: I have a good time with her no matter where we are or what we’re doing.

Last night I went to dinner with a lot of people for Oli’s and Corrie’s birthdays. Corrie’s parents and my parents were there, and my aunt, and Cengiz, Chris, Aaron, Nate, Eric, Amy, Oli, Fox.  It was a big party.  Oli and Fox and I got home pretty early and got into the jacuzzi for awhile.  Those crazy Germans were still in the jacuzzi when I went to bed around 12:45am! Crazy Germans…oh wait. I’m flying to a country of 90 million of them today. Wish me luck!

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One Response to Going home

  1. Howard Brodsly says:

    “welcome home”

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