“Be alone. Eat alone, take yourself on dates, sleep alonee. In the midst of this you will learn about yourself. You will grow, you will figure out what inspires you, you will curate your own dreams, your own beliefs, your own stunning clarity, and when you do meet the person who makes your cells dance, you will be sure of it, because you are sure of yourself.” - Some cheesy Instagram quote handle that I follow and totally eat up on the daily. I sent it to my friend and added “club alone” to the list of things to do.
Tl;dr: Woke up to a surprise at the door, which wasn’t my suitcase, went back to bed, finally got up, waited around for my bag, got the bag (hooray!), changed and went to meet Peep for yoga, did yoga in German (no, I’m not fluent after this), went to have a home-cooked lunch, rested, went out to watch soccer, then went clubbing BY MY DAMN SELF.
So I was in this Airbnb in Berlin.
I was supposed to check out at noon. I slept until like 11:50am, because I was really fucking tired. I also was like, “Well, what the hell else am I supposed to do? I have to wait for my luggage.” If you missed yesterday’s post, British Airways lost my bag. I couldn’t get a hold of anyone to tell me what the status was, and I was getting crotchety, sending mean tweets to BA.
Anyways, I heard a buzz at the door at 9am, and quickly wrapped a towel around myself and ran to the door. When you don’t have luggage, you sleep nude, rather than dirtying your only set of clothes. I heard this buzz and was like, “HALLELUJAH, my bag has arrived,” running to the door in my towel. I swing the door open, not to a man with luggage, but to a little asian girl. She’s like, “Airbnb?” I’m like, “UGH, yes,” holding my towel up as to not show this random lady my breasts. She didn’t follow the god damn instructions, getting the “going in” key out of the lockbox, dropping her bags, and coming back later when her room was ready.
I literally let the little asian girl inside and ran back into my room, locking the door. I felt a little bad when I heard her knocking around on all of the bedroom doors, and then heard one of the other guests get up to show the little asian girl how to get the key and to give her the rundown, in broken english, on how the check-in process works (this lady also read the instructions like me). I don’t have much patience for people who can’t follow instructions.
Anyways, I popped back in bed for another few hours of sleep, before I put my two-day old clothes back on and waited for my bag. Peep (my German friend) was calling me seeing if I could meet him for yoga. I was like, “I’d love to, but no go.” I needed my suitcase. The Airbnb hostess/landlord stopped by to clean up my room, and I let her know I’d be lurking around the apartment for another few hours to wait for said bag. She and I got to chatting, and it was a fruitful, exciting conversation. I love meeting entrepreneurial women. She runs a spa and this Airbnb. She has been managing vacation rentals for 30 years, and spent some time doing it in LA. We talked about all things Airbnb, entrepreneurship, and travel. It was a great convo, and I said I’d stay in touch. This is my reminder to email her!
Mid-conversation we heard a buzz at the door.
This time it was the goods! My bag had arrived. Thank fuck. I quickly called Peep, “Hey, I’ll make it to yoga! Meet you there!” I changed into some yoga clothes, eager to move my body in a way that didn’t just involve my left bicep (tilting a glass of wine into my mouth). I met Peep outside a train station, some long German-y name, double checking my map like eight times along the way. We walked over to this amazing gym, run by Adidas, called Run Base. It was like a Williamsburg cafe, meets Equinox, meets some German people. I was carrying my suitcase with me, which got very muddy along the way.
I tracked in a lot of mud with me. This isn’t a place you want to do that. It was very clean, sleek, and pristine. See these pictures:
From this point forward I pretended to understand German.
We went outside to a pod where our yoga class would be. Doing yoga in another language is interesting. It’s like watching a movie in another language, with English subtitles. Kind of. In this case, the subtitles were me just knowing all the moves and the general order of things. You get it. There were quite a few beginners in class, so I looked like I knew what I was doing regardless. Phew. I wouldn’t recommend German as the most relaxing language to do yoga in. It was a good experience though. I’m glad Peep let me tag along.
Next we rented a mini car with some car-sharing app and Peep drove us back to his family’s house in one of the suburbs of Berlin. It was great. I love seeing a family home in a new place. We immediately grabbed food out of the fridge and dug in. His mom is a great cook and baker. I could tell this was true because I spent the next two days eating her food. We both went for a quick nap, then headed into the city to meet some of Peeps friends to watch soccer — The Euro Cup. We went to a public viewing of Germany vs. Spain (or maybe Italy). Germany won. Sorry to spoil that for you. It was really fun. I got beer sprayed on me.
When in Berlin, go out alone.
I enjoyed a few wines while watching the soccer match, and Peep was like, “Dude, I’m way to worn out from a week of partying with tons of models, so I can’t go you. You have to go out though.” I was like, “Alone?” He was like, “Yes. It’s not like you haven’t done it before.” (we met when I was out alone) I was like, “Well that was on a whim, and this is pre-meditated. I don’t like planning to go out alone.” He was like, “Ok, then don’t go out.” That was enough for me to be like, “Ok, I’ll go out alone. When in Berlin…” So this is what I did.
Peep accompanied me on the train, where I befriended a bunch of drunk German men.
Then he dropped me off at a stop and let me go on my merry way to da club by myself. He knew I’d be fine. I knew I’d be fine too, deep down. If my mom were there, she would not think so much, but it’s ok, Mom, I was fine. The most awkward part of clubbing alone is waiting in line. You basically just pretend you are waiting for someone. I wasn’t waiting for someone though, and I’m bad at pretending. I got into da club. This was the best first step for my night to go well.
Within five minutes of arriving I got a cup (not a glass) of white wine, sat on a bench overlooking the canal, and had started a conversation with a half-American/half-German guy and his full-German friend. I met three half-Americans that night. That’s one and a half Americans! Anyways, it was really fun. This night reminded me how much I enjoy my alone time, and how much I like a good challenge. Usually if you’re alone, you exude openness and people respond well. When you are with friends, its great, but you aren’t as likely to meet new people. I danced and drank and hung with my new mates all night. This reminds me that I need to add this Italian guy, who works at Facebook, on Facebook (friend zone). We hung for some of the night too. By 5am, I realized I was pretty plastered and should head home (I was still ok though, Mom). I took drunken selfies in the cab ride home and talked to my Turkish cabby about Turkey and I even took his picture.
Peep’s dad was already awake for the day when I got home. I felt a little bit bad about my life, but then I also felt really good about my life at the same time. I went to sleep. Now I’m getting into next-day-territory, so I’ll stop here.
Tomorrow (in the past) was a really cool day, besides the hangover.
- Wake up super late and really hungover
- Go with Peep and his dad to a refugee complex to volunteer (calling it a refugee camp sounds overly dramatic)
- Had my heart stolen by so many kids that I played with
- Had dinner with Peep and his parents
- Went to bed way too early