Washing

Okay, I realize it's been quite a while since I've written. I'd say I've been busy, but I'm sure everyone has figured out, I've actually just been extremely lazy. I had a mini Thanksgiving here with a few friends that turned out to be a success. I think everyone will go forth from that moment feeling more like an American. I have held onto a few of the beginning friends, and have finally gotten into meeting more Germans. It's hard here! We have classes only once a week, so by the time you work up the nerve to talk to somebody, they are nowhere to be seen the next week, very inconvenient. I have two "teachers" from North America, my fellow continental-men, which is a relief in a university where everyone refers to everyone else as Frau so and so (not my favorite thing, but my last name is easier to say than my first for the German people). But the main reason for this post is something that I found kind of funny. We have three washers and two dryers for three buildings of people that carry upward of one hundred students. Yes, that's about one hundred people per machine, and 150 per dryer. So, that sounds bad, but on a standard laundry day for me (which has to be about once a week, if not more, because the machines hold about 5 socks and maybe a tee-shirt. . .) there is usually one broke washer or dryer. So I did laundry yesterday, picking only the essential dirty things that were piled up. The type of things you don't want to put in your laundry bag for too long, because they'll make them dirty, workout clothes and such, and those of you that have seen my jog a lap, know that I sweat worse than my brother. So I washed those when I saw a machine open, very excited. Then today, I decided to try to finish my laundry, and there were TWO machines open! I made two trips of small loads, because if you stuff it too full, the smell sock in the very middle comes out completely dry and just as smelly as it was before you put it in. So after I put my second load in, paying 2 Euro instead of one because the machine doesn't give change and I didn't have 1.50, I was leaving, and the Hausmeister stopped me. I didn't hear him at first, but when I asked him, he said "Wohnst du hier?" "Do you live here?" Nope, I don't live here, I just come here, take the train five stops, carry my giant load of laundry all the way up the hill from the tram stop, just to use these state of the art machines. . . "ja. . ." "Wo? In which room?" Holy ma-joly, yes, I live here, I'll tell you the room number and then, relax! So yes, I am finally getting into some serious homework, such as writing papers and giving presentations, which I am slightly thankful for, because there have been far too many free nights after working out where I just sit in my room, twiddling my thumbs and ruining my Sims' lives.