Mishaps with a mannequin

And there is a good chance it’s neither. I actually think its DEM USA. Which would mean I am IM deM USA, but i swear den sounds right…anyhow….I’m in the USA, the low level anxiety of being away from my country is gone. But now, I am away from home….in my home country. Well, actually I am in the Bay Area, which is a wonderful and stifling bubble located on? In? The continental.. “United” states of america. I never second guess my choice- and that i am right where I am supposed to be, I am not staying though:) I’m looking forward to being….back in my current life as much and  Ihave zero desire to leave here. And that as I understand it, is my new life, the burden of expat life. But I’m not an expat, I just have a weird life.  One I fit perfectly into, because thats what i do. Which is stereotypical american “make your way” “pave your own destiny”….I sort of take comfort in the fact I never really have a plan, I just sort of do my thing. I suppose that is a plan. And right now I am “here”and there is rarely much you can do about that. My european life feels very much like a pair of jeans you buy because you love them- the idea, the look…..but you can’t exactly confirm if they are comfortable or not. Which is actually possible. You know you will wear them- but you will always know you are wearing them. Which is not bad….but I am from SF were we wear yoga pants 90% of the time. Dinner is a meal not an eternity. americans I know who have sat through the eternity of a european dinner one knows the stages…”wow, this is lovely”…”ok…I’m having a euro-experience, how cool”….”wow… they just ordered more drinks?” “ok…mcdonalds has a point” ‘Like…I have a bedtime so…..these are a bit much for me. Prolonged human contact is jarring and yet.  I think about the emotionally rich conversations I have enjoyed with people here, all the time spent with people feels so rich and emotionally satisfying. Maybe euro dinners go on forever because they are not. But I really notice all these little differences here now. I love asking questions about people- I am so curious about all of you. I had a moment with my dad this trip about how asking questions here is usually a great thing to do, people like talking about themselves. Yet, he has no idea…. At lunch a few weeks ago, I asked a german whose last sentence stated they loved to read+ had been reading a lot lately, therefore opening a door to for me to walk through. I asked what their favorite book they had read and why was…the look on their face let me know, ..well the word probe is rarely a good thing. Better to talk about the parking spots they are building in whatever town. This particular person makes eyore look like hes having a manic episode so perhaps the wrong case study. I a way , in the grandiosity one must have to survive these situations I feel I am in….I think of myself as a cultural anthropologist…and i laugh at myself. I come from somewhere somewhat pretentious and I dropped out of school before high school, my last job did involve taking the trash out, I did not go to Harvard, so I was able to do that. ……so I can enjoy these moments of intellectual superiority. Moments like that in fact do not actually exist as it’s just my own thought…and I granted myself the superiority. The houses here are too big, Stanford is a cult, the dread culture is over the top, people are spoiled…but this is where I belong. I miss my schedule in Germany. I need to focus on work, I miss Roland, I miss my clients and friends….I miss too much from both places to unpack, so i better go pack my bag. It’s the constant motion that gets me.