I live in Germany! It had barely been twenty four hours and I’m still in the phase where all I want to do is sleep. That’s what I would probably still be doing right now if I didn’t have to wait to let Max, the fourteen year old son of the family who forget his key, in.

I left New Jersey on a Sunday afternoon. My friends have, collectively and generally, been pretty lame this trip. Of course there were exceptions. You know who you are. Nevertheless, I was unambiguously happy to get the hell out of there as my mom, my brother and I drove up to Long Island. By the way, four hours of NPR on the tenth anniversary of 9/11—not what I’d call a pick-me-up.   

We visited with the good half of the family. I saw my cousin’s new apartment and her new cat. We all watched and made fun of the Real Housewives. I started to feel like there were some things I would miss. On Monday we got to the airport early, which was fortunate given the length of the security line. My mom cried and waved to me right up until I passed through the body scan. If tearful goodbyes at airport departure gates are the saddest part of my life, passing through arrival gates are the happiest part. And that happens again in only ten months. At my age, that’s nothing.

I couldn’t sleep on the flight to Dusseldorf even though by the end of it I was so tired that my legs started falling asleep independently of the rest of my body. When passing through customs the officer asked me if my passport was forged but then took my word for it that it wasn’t. After a short connecting flight I was in Munich.

Axel, the dad of the family, met me at the airport. He drove me to the house like we were in a video game (no speed limits!) while giving me a crash course in Bavarian history. He had to rush off to work but he showed me my room and gave me a brief tour of the house. It’s literally the nicest house I have ever been in. Pictures will be posted to my facebook soon, but my private bathroom has a sauna attached to it, if that gives you an idea. Axel told me I could do whatever I wanted until Aga came home with the kids. Aga is their Polish nanny. I asked to make sure I understood, and yes, they have an au pair and a nanny to look after two children.

The urge to crawl back into my new bed is overcoming me now, so the saga will continue later.