So this one time...in Germany...

I was delightfully enjoying my 2 week study abroad experience when something terrifying happened. Perhaps first a little background info to set the mood.

There I was in the far-off land of Dusseldorf, Germany. It was the last week of May, 07 and I had been abroad for about 1 week. So far, so good. Besides a little security set back I had encountered while flying out of PGH (oh, don't you worry I'll be sure to share that tale one day), things had gone surprisingly smoothly. Understand that when the group and I embarked on this little journey we knew very little about what the coming 2 weeks would hold - including where we were staying, where we would be having class, how we would be getting around, etc. - all things considered, things had gone perfectly. The hotel turned out to be just lovely, the classroom facility was way better than we had imagined and transportation in Dusseldorf is offered in ever type of imaginable form.

So there I was, in bed, channel-surfing through the 15 all-German-speaking channels we had. My roommate, Brooke, had long been asleep and I knew I would regret it in the morning if I didn't fall asleep soon too. Frustrated with the T.V., I turned it off leaving myself lying in a completely pitch-dark room (a situation that most who know me doesn’t accommodate my severe claustrophobia. Damn those German remotes and their lack of sleep-timer buttons!) Despite the suffocating dark, I managed to fall asleep. (Another fun fact about me - I sleep lighter than a feather.)

Hours must have passed before I slowly began coming out of REM sleep to the muffled sounds of pounding and scratching. It probably only took a matter of seconds before I was sitting up in bed, adrenaline pumping, reaching for my phone to see what time it was. 4:22 a.m. it read. I sprung out of bed confused and stumbled to the door. I flicked on the light. It was then I realized that the pounding and scratching was coming from the other side of my bedroom door. (Another fun fact - Brooke my roommate apparently does not share my light-as-a-feather-sleep quality.) Like most in this situation, I frantically began looking for the peep-hole on the door. To my surprise, NO PEEP-HOLE! (Damn those German doors with no peep-hole!) So I did the next best thing. I pounded back and yelled, "Yes? Hello?" Instantly the pounding stopped. Good news right? NO. After a long pause, the silence was interrupted by the terrifying screech of a key being dragged up and down the metal-platted door. (It still gives me chills just thinking about it.) It was about at this point I realized this wasn’t just the cleaning lady trying to get in for an early-morning tidy-up. It was also at this point that I lost all sense of cool, collected, composure and began frantically pounding on the door, yelling, "GO AWAY!!!" Between each pound and yell I would run over to Brooke's bed to yell at her "WAKE UP!!!" The louder my efforts got, the louder the unidentified person’s outside my door became. Finally, with no help from my comatose roommate, I ran to the phone and dialed 1 for the front desk. Just my luck, no answer. As I let it continue to ring, I would lay the phone down, run to the door, pound and kick a bit, yell a little more, return to the phone in hopes of an answer and repeat the pattern again.

By this point I had visions of terrorists running rampant through the hotel, capturing all of the guests. Perhaps the oddest thing throughout all the exchanges of physical abuse to the door, not a word was spoken by my 4 a.m. intruder. After giving up on the front desk, I quickly thought to call my mom's room. She too was traveling with our group and was on the other end of the building, same floor. To my delight she picked up after just 2 rings. Without hesitation I began rambling about what was happening and for her to get help and to avoid passing by my end of the hall on her way to the front desk. I later learned that in order to protect herself she strategically placed each one of her keys between each knuckle like a true street-fighter.

After hanging up with my mom and between additional kicks to the door, I tried the front desk one last time. On the first ring the barely-English-speaking-German-doorman answered. All I said was, "ROOM 305. COME QUICK!" Apparently the nice little German man took my plea seriously and began running up the 3 sets of stairs. Some where along the line, the nice little German doorman and my street-fighting mom ran into each other and instantaneously teamed-up to come to my aid.

Now the following details I personally did not experience, but was told in great detail all about. As the street-fighter and German doorman came charging down the hall to room 305 they were shocked to find, what was described to me as, "a scraggily-Jude Law-ish-looking drunk ass beating the crap out of my door." The heroic doorman grabbed the drunkard and without any problems was able to redirect him to his proper hotel room - room 405! I had been pressed-up against my door, attempting to listen to the hallway antics when my mom gently tapped on the door and said it was fine to open up now.

It wasn't until now that I began crying like a big-blubbering-baby. All my adrenaline had subsided and believe it or not Brooke was just waking from her unbelievably deep slumber. As we all sat on my bed and I began to calm down a bit, we could hear the nice little German doorman just above us putting the door-fighting lush to bed. (God damn those Germans and their love for alcohol!)

Ladies and gentlemen let the blogging begin...

It's funny how I initially started this blog with such "umph" and I am sad to say I have since lost a little of that "umph" after just one entry. Perhaps it's because of that "umph" that I started with that I now have no idea how to continue. My initial thought behind this blog was to create a forum where I can purge all my wacky tales without having to bother all of my friends and loved ones. Who am I kidding; I knew very well all along that this blog would simply be an added place for me to share my tales, not at all a substitution. Except here I am with nothing to say. Sure, lots has happened since I first ventured into this world of blogging nearly one month ago, but where do I begin? Now for a little dose of honesty. The real motive for starting this blog was/still is to fulfill a class requirement - I can only imagine the shock and betrayal my 2 loyal readers feel. But before you decide to cut me out all together, I have high hopes that this blog will soon become a great hobby I look forward to doing, as opposed to some chore I am forced to do...until then, I have 3 entries that must be completed by Monday before midterms, so here goes....