Mainz: The Marathon

Last weekend, I went to my first marathon. It was a combination family visit-marathon weekend. It was a success on both fronts.

Asmus' older brother, Christian, decided to use his obsession into running to cover 26.2 miles in Mainz. As a teen, I sang in many choral groups and never had anyone from my family turn out. Now I am all about supporting friends and family. I had to witness my brother-in-law triumph over physical and mental exhaustion. So Asmus had to go, too. Actually, he is a big fan of Christian, so he was excited to go.

We lucked into first class train tickets from Hamburg to Frankfurt, which is close to Christian's home. The lucky part was that the tickets cost less than second-class tickets. I don't why. Perhaps the Good Lord really does work in mysterious ways. I am a fan of luxury; Asmus doesn't mind a bit of suffering. I am working on him. I dragged him the first-class lounge in Hamburg [after my McDonald's breakfast. I am not a big fan of fast food but I do love Sausage Egg McMuffin, which is called a Egg McMuffin and Sausage in Germany.]. He had some coffee and I went to the bathroom and then we left. We had about seven minutes of luxury. I take it anyway that I can.

At Christian's house, we met Andrea, the Wife; sons, Tim and Jan. I feel so bad. I am this woman staying at their house for the weekend and I barely spoke to the boys. They know that I speak English, so they didn't seem to mind the silence. I hope to be able to be speak to them at Christmas. I said some things but I did not close to having anything close to a conversation.

They are very energetic. I like that. There was a lot of running and hitting and jumping and screaming. Germany is so quiet. I welcomed the noise and activity. At the marathon, I grabbed these plastic-covered signs for the boys. They are folded like a fan and used as noisemakers. When the runners come around, you hit them on your leg or a tree and they make this loud booming sound. Tim and Jan didn't need runners. With the fans, they hit themselves on the head, slammed the grass, bopped a tree, banged their legs. At one point, they were next to each other going nuts with the fans.

Jan whacking a pole with the fan. Three balloons are tied into his belt loops in the back. Andrea awaits Christian's passage. Tim had just taken a break from beatng a tree.

Andrea and Tim had strategized. I adore plans. I was so impressed by the maps and schedules. They knew where to park the car. They had pinpointed where and at around what time they would meet to cheer on Tim and had a location for rendesvous when the race was over.

Andrea running with Christian for a bit at Kilometer 28 (There are about 42 kilometers in a marathon.). That's your noble host pointing.

We spent the day moving through Mainz sitting, talking, playing ball, hitting things with fans and at the appointed time we cheered and took pictures. We spent a while near the 38th kilometer mark. Tim and Asmus played soccer with a tennis ball. I was amazed by Asmus' skill. I have never seen him WATCH soccer but here he was playing soccer for about 30 minutes. When I questioned the source of his skills, he simply said, "It's in the genes. I am German." Hmm. What happened to my lazy husband who thought national identity was stupid? Despite the shock at my husband's sudden patriotism, I had a great day.

Christian finished with a time of 4 hours and 39 seconds. He then walked Jan to get his chance to race in a faux Olympic race.

Andrea and Jan in their fake Olympic dash. Christian is taking a photo of the race from a perch on the right.

After that, he walked about 2 miles to the car. I don't know how he did it. I was about to die and I hadn't run anywhere.

I think he is still a bit crazy from the race because he just signed up to run another marathon in the fall.

The entire family [plus an anymous marathoner] run for a bit near kilometer 38.

Honeymoon IV - Appian Way

The next day we hit the Appian Way.

It took forever to figure out the best way to get there from the hotel.

There were a sign or two underground. Above ground, nothing.

We were supposed to catch a bus next to a church. We are walking and walking. Asmus prefers to just go. I want to check everything first. Getting to new places is always an argument waiting to happen with us.

"Let's go this way."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"I don't think that's a good reason."

We have had that conversation several times.

We set off for the Appian Way near the end of the day, because the one thing we do agree with is that there is no need to kill yourself to get anywhere in the morning. We walked around and around and around. It was getting late and I was worried that we would miss the sights. Finally I said we should look for a bus stop near this massive church a block or two in front of us. Near the church, we see the bus but we are not sure where the stop is. We ask a police officer and finally find the stop. And we were on our way to the Catacombs of Calixtus.

The catacombs closed at 5 and we got off the bus at 3:30. Our system was to eat a huge breakfast and grab something on the go for lunch. We are running late but starving. Thankfully, there was a big lunch truck on the side of the road. I was also grateful that there was no seating there. I like to walk and eat; Asmus likes to take his time to eat. That is another argument we often have. But there was no seats, so there was no debate on this day. I had the best soppressetta sandwich.

We slowly make our way to the catacombs while we chomp. Fields and trees for acres. We buy tickets to see the catacombs and discover that we must be a part of a tour. The next tour is not until 4; this is also the last tour of the day. We have 20 minutes, so we kill time at the gift shop.

I learned that the Catholic Church owns the approximately 60 catacombs along the Appian Way. The gift shop sells all these religious items. Asmus' father, Friedrich, asked for a statue of the Pope as a joke gift. I went on the prowl. There was no statue but there were several photographs of the Pope. I settled on a 1" x 1" color photograph in a gold colored "frame". I don't think the frame is a separate piece. We also got a calendar with photographs of Roman sites. I was excited to start filling it up with events. But I was struck to find out that it was from 2010. Doh!

So we amble to the opening of the catacomb at 4 unsure of what happens next. They start calling for people to go on a tour in different languages. Apparently guests get tours in various languages. So we wait and wait and wait. The French group come running out of the gift shop and I hate them. The Spanish group excitedly starts. Then the German group is called. Asmus and I -- the English-speaking group -- are the last called. Plus, we are not allowed underground. I was little upset. I wanted to get to the graves!

I was soon happy about the delay. Our tour guide, a nice lady that I will call Lola (I don't believe that was her name but that is what I am going to call her.) directed us to this grassy area with some photographs on it. She explained the history and the functions of the catacombs. The Catacombs of San Calixtus was the largest of all the catacombs that are under the Appian Way. It covered 20 kilometers (or a million miles. I still am not good translating metric stuff. Although if I have 2 minutes, I can figure out length. I cannot fathom temperature or weight. Is a kilogram heavier or lighter than a pound? Is 30 degrees C cold or hot?).

The catacombs were the church and graveyard for early Christians. Oddly enough, Rome is the home of the catholic church now. Back in the first century AD, Christianity was outlawed in the empire, so Christians worshipped secretly. One of the main sites for worship were the catacombs. The catacombs were rooms dug out by Christians. Burial was against the law in Rome. Eventually, the catacombs became graveyards. Interesting note: in its early days Jews were also buried in the catacomb. When Rome made Christianity legal, the catacombs were no longer used to bury the dead. However, pilgrims would come visit the dead. Eventually, the sites were abandonded. The catacombs were re-discovered in the 1500s.

The early Popes were buried in the four-level San Calixtus catacombs. The catacombs were active until about the fourth century. The remains of the Popes are now in Vatican City.

A view of the Popes' burial area

After our 10-minute lesson, we got to descend into the catacombs, which are 20 meters deep. It was wet and cold. The rows were lined with this holes that were about 18 inches high and 5 feet long. These were graves. People were shoved in these holes and covered with stone. There symbols of fish and an amalgamation of Greek letters near most of the graves. It was a bit creepy but exciting. People were willing to risk their lives to worship. They scurried below ground in order to worship. When family members died, they would work their ways through the dark tunnels to bury them and visit the graves. Now there are fluroescent lights in the tunnels but then there were small torches.

During the tour, Lola pointed out the symbols she described during our lesson. There was extended talks at the original graves of the Popes and the grave of St. Cecilia. Her remains were removed a millenium or so ago. There is a statue there now. She has a line across her neck, to signify the place where the sword cut off her head (the traditional way to kill Christians) and three open fingers on her right hand and one on her left. The right hand symbolized her faith in the Trinity and the left showed her faith in one powerful God.

The former grave of St. Cecilia. A statue sits here because her remains were removed.

Of course, there was a difference between the rich and the poor. The graves of the poor lined the tunnels; wealtheir families were buried in their own little rooms. These rooms were decorated with murals depicting scenes from the Bible. For reasons that I do not know, Jonah was important to early Christians. The rooms we saw were decorated with paintings with the unfortunate fisherman. But poor and slaves did get to be buried.

A family room

I don't know how but Lola casually walked through two levels of the catacombs. I was amazed because every tunnel looked exactly the same to me. I totally understand why one must have a tour guide to explore the catacombs.

In addition to the graves and murals, there was some statutues and frescoes. The area around the Pope burial was turned into a decorative area with columns. The catacombs also has a few artifacts, like oil lamps and cups.

At the end of the tour, Lola gave us a calendar card.

Both Asmus and I find the catacombs are the best part of the trip. When we arrived in Rome, we stopped at the tourism office in the airport to get some information about the area. I asked about the catacombs and the representative said the catacombs were interesting but not the most interesting thing to do. She said you should go but put it it last on your list. I think the catacombs should be the first thing on the list. Skip the Spanish Steps and, even, the Trevi Steps, and run to these graves.

The Honeymoon III - Steps, Purses and Fountains

We spent Thursday relaxing. The hotel had this beautiful American breakfast buffet with Italian touches [several sweet cakes; muesli; roasted tomatoes, etc.]. Asmus and I gorged and then went back to room to let the food move down and plan the day.

I got Asmus hooked on massages, so we made sure we chose a hotel with a spa. On our second day in Italy, we were going to take advantage of that. After perusing the spa menu over and over again while keeping in mind our 7 pm dinner reservation, Asmus had a reservation at 12:30 for a full body massage and I had a 25-minute face massage at the same time. We met up in the hot tub that was actually warm.

The hotel had a "system". There was a hot tub, a steam room, a sauna, a cold area, a heated pool and a relaxing outside area. Combined this is known as a Roman bath. People were always moving about the spa. I did a few minutes in the steam room and a long time in the hot tub. The hot tub was rarely hot, so I usually stopped in the heated pool, which was hot.

At the end of my face massage, my technician said she could get me the foot massage that I wanted. There was some confusion that morning making appointments. I blame pathetic staff, not language issues. The woman on the phone told me I could not get a foot massage until 3:30. That was too late, so I got the face massage. The woman who performed my face massage said a few words in Italian and suddenly I had a foot massage in 20 minutes.

Oh My God! That was heavenly.

Back at the room, Asmus and I compared notes. I enjoyed my face massage and loved my foot massage. Asmus loved his full-body massage. We got ourselves together. It was not that easy. Italy has two channels that broadcast shows in English. I had not had so much fun since London. I watched Will & Grace, Hope & Faith, and other luscious recently-canceled American sitcoms. It was difficult for me to leave the room [and to leave Italy].

We hit the streets with the Spanish Steps and Trevi Fountain in our sites.

OK, I don't want to sound too angry but the Spanish Steps ain't shit. They are a bunch of steps. They lead to a nice old church but they are just steps with lots of people sitting on them. On our way to the steps, we bumped into this family from the hotel. They had just come from the Trevi Fountain. They loved it, so we were hopeful. We warned them that the steps were pretty underwhelming. I had to stop this circle of hopefulness surrounding those damn steps.


On the way to the fountain, we passed a store with some cool purses in the window. It is Rome. When you see leather, you are supposed to buy them. I like handbags with distinctive shapes. The one that I fell in love with a black bag with a hard shell and a Grace Kelly flair. It was a little small. I asked the saleswoman if she had a similar bag. I think she was desperate for a sale. She kept showing me black bags in various shapes. I picked out a square, medium-sized purse. She showed me a huge hobo bag and a large square bag and small bag my grandmother would use. I decided to go with my original choice but then I worried about buying a bag at the first store I stopped at. I made the mistake of asking Asmus for advice. Within the same monologue, he recommended buying the bag that I liked and then he promoted going to a few more stores first. I just bought the bag. We stopped a few stores on the way to the fountain. No store had a bag that I preferred to mine!

That fountain is awesome. It is awesome in the strict dictionary sense. It is inspires awe.





The Trevi Fountain is about as tall as a three-story house. The dramatic scenes are wonderful. The statute Arch of Triumph, depicts the palace of Neptune, dominates the scene above the water. Abundance stands on the left of the fountain and displays Agrippa approving the plans for the Aqueduct. The figure, Salubrity, stands on the right. A relief above that shows the Virgin hsowing soldiers the Way. In the middle of the entire scene is the figure of Nepute firlmly guiding a chariot drawn by seahorses. The scene progresses and horses are guided in their course by tritons. Water trickles from this powerful scene.


Crowds surround the fountain. Some taking pictures. Some kissing. Kids playing in the water. People throwing coins over their shoulder. The only problem were these very aggressive men who wanted you to pay for photographs at the fountain. Oddly, mainly of the vendors at the historical site are Indian. I wonder about the moves that brought Indians into these positions outside the Colosseum, at fountains, and along the Appian Way. Regardless, the fountain rocked.

Here I am throwing money over my shoulder into the fountain, as the legend prescribes. See the purple bag. That holds The Purse. The blue plastic shopping bag held the two umbrellas that we had just bought. The sky threatened rain but did not deliver.

I did light research before we left Germany. Many guides and newpapers recommended Casa Bleve. Now I love it, too. Asmus discovered an affinity for white wine there. I learned that not all balsamic vinegars are the same. Asmus and I both had our first taste of raw meat. We tasted the damn good beef carpacio that the enoteca [a wine shop that also has a small restaurant attached that sells pastas, antipasta and salads] is famous for. Its raw beef was delcious but it is raw meat. I could not get that thought of my head. I walked out of there with a bottle of balsamic vinegar and olive oil. I wanted the white wine we had with dinner. Asmus didn't want it. I didn't understand why. This morning I discovered why: he doesn't want to carry the bottle. He doesn't like carrying liquids because they are heavy. The vinegar and oil can only be found in Italy, so he supported that purchase.

It was a great day.

Honeymoon II - The Forum!

The Arch of Titus at the Forum. It was built to honor emperor Titus.

After eating Italian-style hot dogs [grilled hot dogs, split down the middle and stuffed into flatbread], we came to the Forum.

We didn't do much research for this vacation. The first thought was a trip to Greece. Land at Athens and then visit an island or two. That idea died when I learned that most of Greece is closed until late April. Then we settled on Istanbul. We hit the mall for some light shopping and then decided to go to the travel agent. On our way down the escalator, Asmus said he was nervous about me going to Turkey. As an American, he thought there could be a target on me. I thought that was unnecessary but if we would have a care-free honeymoon, then we should pick a place that we would both feel safe. So by the time we reached the bottom, we decided to go to Florence. Five minutes later, the agent said there was more to do in Rome. So, we left the office with hotel reservations to Rome.

It is early March and we confirming and making plans for the wedding and out-of-town guests, so vacation research falls to the bottom.

If I had, I would have skipped the Roman Forum. It is acre and acre of ruins. It once a great public area with temples, public squares, shops and streets. Now it is a complex of rocks and half walls.




We walked through aimlessly for about 20 minutes. Then Asmus and I left and got a drink at an outdoor bar across the street from the Forum. The good German had a beer and I had a refreshing glass of Frascati.

The Honeymoon!

The plane touched down at the crappiest airport that I have ever been in -- Rome Leonardo da Vinci Fiumicino -- at 10:30. Everyone on my flight stood at the indicated baggage claim carousel for about 20 minutes. There was a mystery. The same luggage went around and around and around but no one was taking any bags off. The police and the drug-sniffing dog were the only people who were not just off a plane. Asmus took a look at other carousels and came off empty handed. With no one to ask for help, we all stood there. After then more minutes, a big group of people just jogged away. I am in no need of a run co-ordinator, so I followed them. Three carousels away, our baggage was circling. I was braced for some Italian inefficiency but I didn't think it would come so soon. From my years of dealing with Italian businesses at Town & Country, I knew the Italian idea of quick is different than the American idea of quick.

It was about 11:30. We had our bags. I was starving. I am in Rome, so I grabbed chicken nuggets at an airport restaurant. Satisfied. We got some museum information and a tourist card from Rome tourism. Then we waded through men pushing shuttles to Rome to Taxis. Thirty minutes later, we were in out gorgeous home away from home, the Crowne Plaze Rome-St. Peter's.

Our room overlooking the empty outdoor pool was ready. We dropped our bags and headed out the door. We caught the bus right outside the hotel. I am the big solo traveler, so I was able to make it to the Colosseum. Asmus wasn't sure of the vague instructions, so he thought I found our way by luck. A calm discussion followed. I made it clear that luck didn't get me to the correct bus connection for the Colosseum, but paying attention to the instructions and the signs. I demand credit where credit is due.

I studied Latin in the fifth, sixth, ninth, tenth, eleventh and twelfth grades. After reading about the history of ancient Rome and Roman mythology, it was so exciting to be standing in front of it. The bus ride was exciting. The bus drive travels past ruins, statutes and monuments. All dot the landscape. They are not relegated to some special area. One block holds ruins, statutues, convenience stores and restaurants.

A panoramic view of the Colosseum with an overhead
view of the subterranean level, which was uncovered over time.
Directly in the foreground [the tan area in the bottom
of the photograph] is the space where the action took place.

The Colosseum is massive. It is daunting. My mind cannot understand how people could create such a structure without mechanized cranes, forklifts, elevators and electric tools in 80 A.D. The Colosseum could hold 50,000 people. Asmus and I did the audio tour. It was a pretty mysterious, too. You were supposed to start at certain points in the Colosseum. There was a basic map in the brochure but no signs on the Colosseum. At a few stops, we were not at the correct location but we just kept moving until the view matched the words.

Interesting trivia: There is no evidence that there were any fights with lions in the Colosseum.

The subterranean level of the Colosseum where slaves,
gladiators and animals were held and prayed.

In the Colosseum, like today's stadium, the wealthier citizens sat closer to the action; the Senators sat right next to the action. Like boxes at opera houses, the best seats had some disadvantages. Boxes have poor sightlines to the stage. The seat close to the action in the Colosseum were open to the sun; the seats in higher levels were protected by an awning.

The seats where Senators sat, which directly overlook the
platform where the games and fighting took place.

Being in the Colosseum in the awesome in the truest sense of the word. It inspired awe. I could feel the energies of the millions of people who visited the Colosseum for entertainment or enrichment. The Colosseum rocks.

The Wedding!

Well, the big day came and went.

I am married.

I would recommend getting married in Germany to every American. There are no small details here. We rented a room at the Ahrensburg Castle. It is decorated nicely and the price of the room rental covers everything. There was no chair setup fee or anything annoying. I had no concerns about the venue.

Tio Pepe was already decorated nicely. They asked us how we wanted the tables to look for the reception. When we arrived, the tables looked like our vision.

Germans do not have party favors at weddings and I did not want to choose party favors, so there were no party favors.

The wedding day was pretty much stress-free. Asmus, who is always looking for the gray cloud behind the silver lining, predicted stress and found it. He was nervous about saying vows that he had written. While I was getting dressed, he sat on the couch and chugged cava. I got a little anxious when the cab came to take us the castle while I was writing my vows on notecards and putting on stockings. But that was the beginning and the end of the stress for me.

I met Asmus December 14, 2007 at the wedding of my friend Isabel in Cologne, Germany. She was marrying Asmus's oldest friend, Matthias. Asmus and I barely spoke that day. During the evening of the 15th, we were left alone because Matthias started talking some people who were sharing a table with us at a brewhouse [Curiosity about the American inspired many questions directed to him about me.]. Asmus and I talked about the difference between American potato salad and German potato salad [None. They are the same thing.] and discussed the look of American currency. That led to my obsession with 30 Rock. Somehow that led to a kiss. That kiss led me to believe that Asmus was going to be in my life for a while. I knew. Despite his living in Germany and my living in New York. I knew. So getting married was no stress at all.

The stress came five days before the wedding. My older sister Lorie's passport had not arrived. I believe the government is always going to fail you. So I knew that she was not going to make it. Lorie and I have had decades of trouble but lately we have been getting along pretty well. I was pretty bummed that she was not going to be here. She waited and then she acted. She drove from northern Delaware to Washington D.C. to see about getting it. No luck. No sister at the wedding.

Fortunately, I did have my mother there. I haven't seen here since September. Unfortunately she was sick. She had never been to Europe before, so I was nervous that she would hate it. She said her time was OK but you never know. She brought me a suitcase full of American treats that I requested -- several boxes of cake mixes, tubs of frosting, salad dressing, grits and Lawry's seasoned salt.

My mother and Asmus's family met officially at Asmus's parents house the day before the occasion. There was lively discussions and everyone ate all the fatty food that Asmus and I cooked. It was a success. Asmus's family eat pretty healthy. Very little salt and fat but lots of organic food from local farmers. We served packaged pasta covered in a packaged spinach-and-gorgonzola sauce to which we added bacon. Oh yeah, there was a salad for the first course. The pasta was so bad for you but it tasted so good. Asmus older brother, Jakob; his mother and his father ate it and said it was delicious and did not mention the sheer danger of the meal. Mom liked it, too.

The wedding was at 5. Almost all of the guests were supposed to take a tour of the castle at 4:15. Asmus wanted to make things were setup correctly, so we got there at 4. We were the last people to arrive. Everyone was standing outside the castle when we pulled up. They were congratulating us and taking pictures. It was a bit overwhelming. At the risk of sounding ungrateful, I will admit that I planned to run the curling iron through my hair and freshen my makeup. That did not happen. I was getting hugged and helloed and then we had to take pictures. I am pretty anxious about what I look like in the photos. Pretty damn anxious.

Because my friends either didn't have the money or could not fly with young children, the only American in attendance was my mother. The Germans had never experienced someone saying their own vows. Asmus was worried about how his friends and family would react. I vowed to let him sleep late on the weekends and he vowed not to interrupt me when I talked. Asmus's older brother Christian served as officiant. During the service, he spoke of all the hurdles we had to overcome in order to be together. Christian was nervous speaking in public but he soldiered through it all and was amazing. After the ceremony, three or four people said they cried, so my "strange" plans were not too outlandish.

At the end of the day, Asmus said, "I am so happy."

It was a good day. I am not a fan of ceremonies. However, I felt pure joy in publicly declaring my love and respect for Asmus in front of friends and family.

Isabel served as photographer. Asmus and I must sift through the 300 or so images she created for us. When we do that, the blog will have photographs from the wedding.

Here is the plate immediately after Asmus and I ate the last of
our wedding cake the day after the ceremony.

London, part 3 - The City

London is more than a dirty city of concrete and brick. Here are few views of the city.

Here is a section of London called Hampstead. It is in north London and famous
for an expanse of open land called Hampstead Heath.

Here is the exterior of our apartment in the Dalston section of town.
Here is the view of central London from Hampstead Heath.

Here is another shot of central London from the Royal Observatory.



Here is the Tower Bridge at Dusk. Some mistakenly call this London Bridge. London Bridge is much uglier.

London, part 2 - The Prime Meridian

Here is the Prime Meridian, the imaginary line that cuts the world in half vertically. The official marker for the Prime Meridian is located at London's Royal Observatory.
This is the new Prime Meridian. It was created in 2000. Pretty artsy, huh?

On the ground, there is a list of major world cities and their longitudes.

Here is the old Prime Meridian. This is what I saw in 1994, the first time I came to London. It has been demoted. It lies behind a gate and there is no sign pointing toward its existence.

Life in London, part 1

Here is the way we lived in London. For about five weeks Asmus and I lived in one room. If two people enter a room and two people come out a month later, that is a good sign of the health of that relationship. Of course, Asmus was sick for about two weeks and I was ill the week after, so we weren't that annoying the entire time.

Here are shots of our temporary home in the Dalton section of the Hackney region of London.

The Living Room. The room where we spent too much of our lives. The blue thing is a futon. I slept on that and sat on there and watched television. I slept on it [That's my arm peeking out the edge.]. Asmus' back started to hurt, so he slept on a mattress on the floor. Do you love the pink television? We wanted a cheap television. We got this cheap television/DVD player for 80 pounds. It was cheap but it was the ugliest thing in the world. The best slash worst was the remote control. The entire thing featured shades of hot pink. The buttons were a darker shade of hot pink than the background. The numbers were a lighter hue than the buttons. It was awful. But I love that television. I got to watch television on a regular basis for the first time since September. I can watch television in Germany but I don't know what anyone is saying, so it is MTV and CNN an hour a day and more on the weekend. I happily while away the sick days in front of my ugly television and smiled.

This was the best feature of the house. The kitchen was beautiful. The stove was 50% bigger than ours in Hamburg. The washing machine works each time you use it. Our machine in Hamburg is kinda like a slot machine. Maybe you get clean clothes out of it, maybe you don't. The refrigerator and freezer were normal sized. I only went to the supermarket ONCE a week. I filled the freezer and we had food for weeks. The only drawback was the lack of flatware. The owner of the apartment had three forks, four spoons, four knives, and one sharp knife [It was a steak knife.]. We were constantly washing forks. That was a pain in the ass.

This was the worst bathroom that I ever had to use on a daily basis. I have used worse at clubs and gas stations. But this was the worse that I had to use regularly. This was worse than the bathrooms that I used at camp. See that round thing in the top left corner. That is a decorative lamp. There is no light bulb inside. It was used to cover up a massive lichen-like feature on the wall. I wanted to get rid of it but then I worried that it might spray deadly spores around the apartment. I hated to use the toilet. The kitchen was made over but the bathroom was from the dark ages. The tub was OK. It was more narrow than a traditional tub. When I showered, the curtain stuck to me. The room was vile.

Pride & Gold

Things are moving along here.

Last Tuesday, I completed the health, food and culture pages for the March issue of Pride magazine. It is getting easier. The first time I did it I was scrambling. I didn't know what I was going to write about. I was scrambling to get in products and books and I was scrambling to find public relations people. This month I was only desperate for a second health story. For the February issue, I scrambled for a diversity of quality books. For March I had too many.

And the wedding stuff is moving along.

I was having trouble securing a dress and a design. Last November I decided on a style from a pattern and colors. I wanted it sewn in a lilac or bright yellow. It was going to sewn by a seamstress. Then it was going to be bought. Then it was going to be sewn by my mother. Then it was going to be bought. When nothing happened by the first week of February, I asked my mother to buy a $90 lilac dress from and a pair of white slingbacks for $40 from Macy's. My heart was set on the original dress design and these cool slingbacks from Stuart Weitzman.






But at that point, I needed something to wear. The Macy's dress and the slingbacks were ordered and should be here next Wednesday. [Today the dress costs $67. I told Mom to get a refund for the difference in price.]

A few days ago, I found out that Mom is making me the original Dream Dress. She found a "beautiful light green" and a "bright yellow". So that is groovy as hell.

This week Asmus and I went for the rings. He had little preference for rings. As a regular American girl, I assumed my ring would have diamonds. But Germany is an understated country. Every salesgirl and random woman pushed a simple gold band. As a regular woman, I don't see tons of jewelry in my life and I thought "why be simple?". But Asmus wanted a very small gold ring and I felt like a jerk if I walked around with a carat on my finger. So I made it my goal to get a beautiful band. So I headed to one of my favorite places on earth -- Tiffany & Co.

I am naturally a cheap person. But I have found quality products are usually produced by quality service. My former company, Hearst, gives it employees gifts from Tiffany. I have walked out of Tiffany's company flagship store ridiculously happy twice. I assumed the third time would be just as great.

Tiffany Flagship store on Fifth Avenue, the site of two glorious purchases

I was wrong.

When Asmus and I came to the store two weeks ago, the saleswoman was helpful but not very positive about anything. She didn't like the ring I chose and was not sure if it would show up by March 14. By the time I left the store, I was seduced into getting the Lucida, a classic, curvy-edged band and convinced my ring would not arrive in time for the wedding.

A week later, we were back at Tiffany's to buy. I tried on the Lucida on the right hand and the Band ring, which had a flat edge, on the left. This time Asmus liked the Band. I went for the Band. The saleswoman reminded me that the Lucida is a classic ring and that I should remember before ordering that the Band that I will be wearing it every day for 30 years. A) I don't want a classic. I want a nice style. B) I am 36, I don't want to be married for only 30 years. It's 50 years or nothing.

Our saleswoman did one of those "I don't know" teeth sucking when we came to the final decision. She said the ring style I chose is very rare; only 20 are made each year. Almost all of them are in Asia. It would take 3 or 4 weeks to get the ring to Hamburg. So no inscription. I asked her if it is possible to find the ring at Tiffany in New York. She said no because this style is only sold in Asia.

I thought that was odd. Before I visited the Tiffany for ring shopping, I went to its American website to shop for rings. That is the first time that I saw the Band.

We ordered the ring at the store and crossed our fingers that it would arrive by the wedding. If it didn't arrive in time, we would just get a "stunt" ring for the ceremony.

After lunch on Thursday, I checked the website and there was my ring in my size. I called the American customer service. She said there was one ring in size 9 left in the United States. That ring was mine and I hungrily ordered it. Tiffany cannot deliver internationally, so it is on its way to Mom's house.


Asmus didn't care as much about his ring, so he shopped for price, rather than style. We bought his ring at Karstadt, the German equivalent to Macy's. Tuesday night, suddenly he had preferences. Since November, he just wanted a curvy piece of gold. 10k. 18k. Whatever. Tuesday night, he was Elizabeth Taylor. He tried on three two-tone pieces and decided on a beautiful ring that is more interesting than a simple, little band.

The hillarity came when we gave instructions for engraving.

We wanted our first names separated by an ampersand, our wedding date followed by the eternity symbol. The saleswoman said they could not create an ampersand. She offered us the opportunity to separate our names by two interlocking hearts. That is too dumb for me. Hearts lost their fascination for me in the seventh grade. Then she said the company could not create an eternity symbol. There was a list of possible options for engraving. One option was a horse and carriage. The machine could create a horse and carriage but not a horizontal eight?! We settled on "and" instead of an ampersand and two joined rings instead of an eternity symbol. That is why I shopped at Tiffany. I still have faith that they would find a way to get a damn eternity symbol on the inside of the ring.

Well, everything is done . . . except one thing -- Cake. Today, is the cake tasting. Yes!