Long way to go

I've been here in Berlin almost a month now. At first it was exciting, then strange, then various permutations of fun, frustrating, somewhat comfortable, and increasingly more familiar. Now, on a sunny Saturday afternoon, I can look around and honestly say to myself that I am happy here.

To update the housing situation: we did find a new flat, not as nice as the one that fell through, but pretty sweet in a different way. For starters, it's a loft right off Rosenthaler Platz, which is very Mitte. The area feels similar to the Milwaukee North and Damen intersection in Wicker Park of Chicago. The flat is one huge room and a separate bedroom; I get the bedroom and Atom has the main room. We are subletting it for March and April, and the owner makes techno, so he left his turntables and records and stuff. It's really nice to live with a stereo again.

But the most interesting thing about this new flat is that a friend of mine from Chicago, Ben Goldberger, stayed here in this exact apartment when he lived in Berlin a few years ago. Such a small world.

Right now Atom is in London for DMZ, and to meet Rob, who is flying in from Chicago to visit; they'll both be back here tomorrow night. I woke up this morning to an empty apartment and realized how much I kind of miss living by myself. In my life I've had something like 25 roommates, but spent the last year and a half living alone for the first time, which I loved. So now I am enjoying a quiet flat all to myself, before I meet up with a friend tonight for dinner.

It's funny to think about how easily I am meeting people here, or at least, it's so much easier than when I lived in Sydney. Maybe it's because I'm at a very different stage of my life now than I was then; maybe it's just Berlin.

So yes, things are going well. Doris and Tony were in from London last weekend, which was great. It was fun hanging out with old friends again, and Tony's set with Karl at Berghain was a blast. We didn't even get to the club till 4am, and got called wusses for only staying out till 8am. That still kind of blows my mind. In Chicago, I went out more than almost anyone I knew - as a consequence of working at home and living alone, I had to go out every night or else I went nuts. I also stayed out later than most people (except the friends I was staying out till dawn with), yet here, I feel like a bloody amateur.

It's been a month and my sleep schedule is still so strange. I don't get tired till at least 5am, but I guess that works. A regular yoga practice helps with the (lifelong) insomnia, somewhat. My dreams reflect the strangeness of my biorhythms, or something like that. Rather vivid and intense.

Also, I've been thinking about Alicia a lot lately. I know there's a pretty strong chance that I wouldn't be here if it weren't for her. And while I love Berlin, I'd be in Chicago in an instant to have her back again. So, I guess I'm just feeling a bit conflicted, and kind of sad in an esoteric, unresolveable way. It'll pass. I am so lucky, so glad that she was in my life, and that her passing could inspire me to get off my ass and actually travel, like I have always wanted to do.