.SOMETIMES RAW.

The other night, I found myself in the most unlikely of places: In the back of a car with my boyfriend whom I dated in high school…..

It was late at night, and as the car wound its way through the streets, his face flickered in the glow of blinking streetlights. When we stopped at a red light, he leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I don’t love you,” he said. “And I never have.” Then I woke up. It was all a dream. But as I went about my day, I remained haunted. Why did my subconscious want to tango with someone I haven’t seen or spoken to in many years?

Joan Didion is one of my favourite writers. She wrote, “We are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not.” Even though I agree with Joan, this point has never been my strong suit.

My past selves were sometimes mortifying. They wore strange outfits and said awkward things, then staying up too late worrying about it. They sometimes made errors in judgement that, while necessary for learning, I would rather not relive. But lately, in these months spent largely at home, I have been forced to confront them. My brain replays the old memories like syndicated reruns of a show. For me, this pandemic has resulted in a surge of vivid, bizarre dreams due to changes in stress and activity, sleep patterns, and pretty much every facet of my life. Long-forgotten memories resurfaced. Some nice, some bad. They appear not only when I am asleep, but often in the midst of some innocuous, everday task. Obviously, this pandemic needs to be over.

My former selves have a lot to say, and as it turns out, they have not gone far. For example: While I waited for a cup of coffee in front of my coffee maker I had a flashback to the coffee machine and its similar sound at the police academy’s cafeteria. The flashbacks of the things I did, said, and the things I wish I had said to colleagues. To the boss who could never find the stapler. Another boss who threw things and screamed at me. The job I quit too soon. The job where I stayed too long. There is a lot more where this came from, but I will leave it at that.

These memories are inside me like a matryoshka doll. The more time I spend with my past selves, the more I discover that embarrassment runs in both directions. I not only uncover old disappointments, but also old dreams. Things I wanted but was too afraid to try. My younger selves demand to know what happened, and I have no suitable response. I decided the only way out is to confront them. I began keeping a notebook. If the memories can live on paper, I thought, maybe they won’t feel the need to run around my head. Sometimes, I feel lighter. Other times, I feel like I have immortalized the very thing I wished to forget.

When writing fails me, I look around. Watch. Whenever I get too caught up in my own internal chatter, I talk to others and observe. I imagine what the people behind each mask loves, is stressed about, sad about, looking forward to. I bask in feeling both connected and blissfully, inconsequentially small. Everybody has shit to deal with. And it is interesting to hear and picture all the rooms and places these people have occupied. Where they have been. At twelve. At thirty. At fifty. Sometimes it would be nice to turn back time, albeit with the benefit of experience.

Even when it seems like the scenery is stagnant, I am subject to constant reinvention, like the annoying upgrades threatening to overtake my computer and phone. My former selves are here to keep me company because I made peace with my past. And most of the time I go about my days (and nights) without the shudder of remembrance.

So, coffee is what I will have. Here in my kitchen. Now.

As a German, life in Austria is not always easy. You want to get to know Austria, especially Vienna, better? Bear with me because there are plenty of wonders in store. Naive as I was, I moved to Vienna expecting to be welcomed with open arms. “I speak the same language and we are neighbors. Germans love Austrians and love to travel to Austria to hike”, I thought. Far from it, as it turned out. After a rather sobering first couple of weeks harsh reality came in the form of a hot, black and bitter drink, known as coffee. Everyone knows what is meant by this. Everyone has the smell in their nose and the picture in their head. Well, except the Viennese. “I would like a coffee, please, “I said to the grumpy looking waiter at Café Ritter (Kaffeehaus) in front of me. “Of course you do”, he replied annoyed. Questioning glances were exchanged between us. “What does ‘Mohr im Hemd’ on the menu even mean”, I wondered. “What kind of coffee would you like?” he eventually asked me, followed by an endless list of coffee variations. Whereupon my face immediately took on the shape of a question mark: “What is happening to me? Well, just a normal black coffee, please.” The waiter rolled his eyes, snorted “Piefke” and shortly afterwards, I had a tiny espresso in front of me and a glass of water. As a German, living the Viennese dream of lingering in coffee houses is a quite difficult task, but with the understanding for Vienna, at some point also came the understanding of coffee. And somehow, since then, it also tastes different!

Some day I was standing in a line in front of a shop; because everything was taking so long, I started a conversation with the others who were waiting. With my accent, the Austrians in front of me noticed right away that I was German. At which another woman in line asked if I could please start a Piefke-insurgency to get things moving.

At the Würstelstand: Don’t ever order like this: “Guten Tag. Ein Würstchen bitte, ein Brötchen, und ein Bier. Haben Sie eine Tüte?” I was banned from the Würstelstand for three months.

Austrians cannot say “No”. I suggested an idea to an Austrian colleague, who says, “Interesting idea. Let’s look at this,” – but what he means is, “I am going to leave it on my desk and do nothing – at least not right away.” But I think I have got a go ahead, will make a to-do-list, and start setting up the files – while the Austrian was far from decisive, but didn’t wan to say “no” directly.

Austrians cannot accept “No”. At the museum: Museum guard tells an Austrian woman to please carry her backpack in front rather than on her back. The woman says, “okay”, puts the backpack in front and as soon as the guard leaves moves it back on her back rolling her eyes calling him an asshole.

Do not speak up anywhere. As a German, you are supposed to watch and see the dynamic and gradually find a place for yourself. And after a while, when you have been “accepted”, only then you can say what you have to say. This definitely takes longer than in Germany. Don’t ever give Austrians the feeling that Germans can get things done better, faster, more efficient, smarter, etc. You get the point.

Me at he bakery: “Two rolls, please.” I then heard the saleswomen ask, “Which two would you like?” I still hear that question sometimes to this day, and I think it is an incredible luxury to be able to choose exactly the two rolls, exactly the piece of bacon, exactly that plucked chicken that you want. Just as you can order 3 or 13 Dekas of salami as a topping for your roll. Or 150 Dekas ham while the saleswoman stares at me with her eyes wide open asking her colleague if there is more ham in the back. Then, the typcial eyeroll.

My first Heurigen (epic outdoor/indoor-wine-garden where you can eat and drink liters of wine) visit: Can you please tell me what all the items on the “Wurstplatte” are in German language. Huge mistake. But ask me where the best Heurigen are and I will let you know.

Austrian words that grind my gears:

• Ordination = Sprechstunde – visiting hours at a doctor’s office
• urgiert = dringend – urgent
• Schuach = Schuhe – shoes
• neich = neu – new
• es schneibt = es schneit – it is snowing
• es flankerlt = es schneit etwas – tiny snowflakes are coming down from the sky

Funny things to say:

• Eh’ = ??? – ???
• Na sicher = Sicher – Sure
• Geh’ bitte! = Echt? – ???
• Der futile Hawara pudert ois, was eam üban Weg rennt = Dieser Typ ist nur auf Sex aus und nutzt jede Gelegenheit, die sich bietet- This guy f***s everything
• Du bist a urndlicha Wappla = Du bist ein Idiot – You are an idiot
• Ur wichtig = Sehr wichtig. – Very important
• Schauts, die Heh’ is do = Die Polizei ist hier – The police is present
• A Kieberer is ka Hawara = Der Polizist ist kein Freund – The police officer is not your friend
• Heast, Gscheader, foa weida, des is a Strossn und ka Ocka! Heit bin i zu den Gscheadn ausse gfoan, Wein kaufen.” = Hören Sie, Landbewohner, fahren Sie weiter, dies it eine Strasse und kein Acker! Heute begab ich mich zu den Bauern, um Wein zu kaufen.” – I drove out of the city to buy some wine from a farmer
• Wos Sie da sogn, is a aufglegta Schas! = Sie reden gequirlte Scheisse! – You are talking bullshit.
• Ma, der Trottl geht ma om Zaga. = Der Idiot geth mir so auf den Wecker. – He is getting on my nerves)
• Vazupf di, owa schnö! = Geh weg, aber schnell. – Get lost immediately

Overall, and how to make your life easier in Austria, just be on time, speak German (at least try), be polite, get a Dirndl/Lederhose, enjoy coffee and cake (not Starbucks, go to a Kaffeehaus), ignore the Viennese attitude (many are very grumpy), listen to Falco, learn to drink white wine like a pro, call tomatoes “Paradeiser“, do not tell Austrians that they are like Germans, and end a conversation with Baba, Servus, but not Tschüss. Then you should be save.

Are you stressed? Worn out? Is this Corona insanity getting the best of you? Are you astonished by the enormous amount of mothers who have dropped out of homeschooling and mothering in the last year since the coronavirus lockdowns began? Do you have the urge to sign yourself into a mental institution? Yes? It sounds like you (and me) could use a restful vacation to cleanse your soul and replenish your (maternal) energy.

But, I don’t have that kind of time/money/negative Corona test, your monkey mind tells you. I have to go to scan my son’s online distance learning worksheets, make sure he isn’t playing Minecraft instead of being “in class”, and collate tomorrow’s math and reading assignment. Well, stress no more because I have news for you. All your troubles will drift away when you sit down in your adjustable, cushioned, hydraulic-motor massage chair at the furniture store XXXL Lutz in Vienna. Let your body recline and sink into the plush upholstery as you gently apply pressure to the electronic foot control, generating a soothing buzz that calms your nerves and drowns out the sound of your child arguing that he wants to sit in this chair.

What is he fighting and arguing over? It does not matter, because as your chair reclines even further, a sense of well-being permeates your entire body. Once the head-massage starts, you lose yourself in pleasure and banish whatever thoughts don’t serve you, including the knowledge that there will be another lockdown coming up and you forgot to buy food coloring and fruit and nuts for your child’s entire class. This is just the beginning of your indulgent journey, for soon, the massage chair is asking you a few simple questions about the setting you can choose from. Like the strength of the massage, the length, and the type. You don’t even have to exert the energy to speak, because you don’t need to. A couple of clicks on your massage chair screen and the setting is done.

If your child keeps talking to you just a grunt or a languid hand gesture is all you need to communicate, while the chair does its thing. Are you falling asleep yet? Is that a saliva dribble down your chin? No! Don’t wipe it away. This is your zone to relax, Queen. Just let it all go. This regenerating massage chair combines a unique combination of relaxation, and sensation to draw out toxins and enhance your state of bliss. Once the foot-massage starts, you won’t even notice anybody around you, which also means your child may have snuck either your iPad or iPhone out of your bag. This marks their fifth hour of screen time today. Hey, it is Saturday. Or isn’t it? It is still Jantembuary, the 59th.

Still, not being able to intervene in the massage cycle induces a profound sense of contentment and equanimity. You cannot do one single thing in this massage chair except sit, and enjoy the most relaxing feeling you have had in 365 days. Surrender to the now, for nothing exists inside this furniture store except you, and this 30-minute massage. As you begin to feel at one with the universe, heat, and music lull you into a space of total peace. You inhabit your body fully. You are embraced by stillness and serenity. You cannot even remember the events that seemed so stressful just an hour earlier when you tried to build the IKEA bookshelf “Leksvik” at home alone or when you threw everything out of the window to drive to a new furniture store to buy a better bookshelf. Your body sinks completely into the massage chair, which is doing all the heavy lifting for you, and you sure deserve this, lady. Well done for treating yourself!

Refreshed, renewed, and rejuvenated, you hear your child sobbing next to you but remain motionless that extra 30 seconds before a salesperson approaches you to tell you about all the special features of this particular massage chair and reminds you that it is time to get up and out of it because others want to try it, too.

Recommendation: One treatment, once a week because no appointment or negative Covid-test necessary, and no costs unless you want to purchase this Mercedes among all massage chairs.

Price: 5299 Euro

Chances are pretty high that you will see me in that massage chair at XXXL Lutz on a Saturday afternoon. Bring coffee or white wine to make this an even better experience.

You are welcome.