Photographic proof forthcoming, provided this actually lasts another day.

The sun came out in Vienna. I repeat: the sun. Came out. In Vienna. For the past five days! in a row! it has been balmy and warm here in my adopted drizzlefest, and it as if the entire city came out of a coma (besides the Junkies at Karlsplatz, who are still in their comas).


This is what I thought it would be like here for the rest of my life.

This miracle of weatherosity happened to come during a rare week "off" from my "work" in which I have just handed in an 80-page dissertation chunk (thankyouverymuch) and am waiting to hear back from my "adwiser" about it, as they say here. So on Sunday I was actually able to spend the entire day outside and (mostly) fucking around (I did have one real appointment). So it was a day full of adwendture, as they would say here (whilst speaking English, that is, and yes I am sure I pronounce German words funny too, especially given that I have only half-affected an Austrian accent since getting here, and so I just sound unplaceable and mangled most of the time), including but not limited to being late for said appointment and, in my lateness, having to run/jog/cantor/gallup through the Karlsplatz/Oper tunnel, a.k.a. the Horizontal Junkie Roller Coaster.

Every junkie in Vienna hangs out at Karlsplatz, scoring, nodding, and generally milling about in a heroin stupor. They are constantly watched by the police (it is one of the few official "Protected Zones" in the city where a cop can bascially bust you for loitering for any reason) and apparently the municipal authorities are grateful they are all in one place. But it's really a sight to behold–it's like being in a zombie movie and not realizing you were in it until it started playing. And, needless to say (though I am anyway), junkies move at special junkie pace, i.e. not very fast. So there I was trying to get where I was going in a hurry, a concept completely unfamiliar underneath Karlsplatz, and so there was no other alternative than a Junkie Slalom. And I was good! No bodily contact and minimal witnessing of nodding/shooting/shuddering/dealing (although I did see one deal, which was fascinating–a guy came up to another guy, both lumbering in the same direction, and grabbed his hand like he wanted to hold hands–I was like, "Why are those two bemullteted guys holding–OH WAIT, I GET IT." Interestingly enough it was also the only time I have ever heard a Viennese say "thank you" and mean it). I could medal in the Junkie Slalom if Wien ever hosts the winter Olympics.

Anyway, the end of the Junkie Slalom is not only the world-famous Vienna State Opera House, but also the world-famous Vienna Music Toilet, a 60 cent (and ergo junkie-bereft) pay toilet decked out like an old opera house where you listen to classical music while you pee! I have always wanted to have the call of nature in the vicinity of the Vienna Music Toilet and NOW I HAVE!


Just look at it! How can you NOT want to pee there?

I finished off my grand day by taking a magnificent walk up to the second district, whereupon I checked out a free Citybike (My brother: "Vienna has, like, MUNICIPAL BIKES?" Me: "Yep, it's pretty great." My brother: "Do you have to sign up at the city office?" Me: "Even better: THERE ARE MACHINES."), and rode it to and through the Prater, which was just beginning to bloom back into green magnificence and teeming with every single Viennese in the universe, just like all other outdoor spaces have been during the sunshine resurrection.


The Prater. Like imagine the rides from Coney Island getting dropped into the middle of the most magical park ever, and you're still not imagining it right.

You know you're in Vienna when even the pathetic-looking McDonald's outside the Meiselmarkt in the prostitute-infested 15th District has a nice-looking patio (and no I do NOT eat at McDonald's, it happens to be right by the bus stop in front of my gym).


This isn't even a picture I took, but it is THE EXACT Citybike station I used!

Speaking of the gym, my adwentures continued into today, when not only did I see even more prostitutes than usual, but also I saw a very peculiar thing at the gym: one of the women in the locker room had constricted her midsection with Saran Wrap while she worked out, as if she was trying to sculp her waist out in 1950 or whenever the last time people though you could actually lose weight that way was.

Anyway, I'd apologize for never updating my blog but nobody cares. I thought I'd just take this opportunity to create a record, for when it starts snowing again in two weeks, that the sun! emerged! ever so briefly! in Vienna.

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