October, 2012

Oktoberfest Day Two – Too Hardcore for Oktoberfest

So the next day at Oktoberfest was my birthday.  Truth.  Birthday at Oktoberfest like a piiiiiimp.  I was pretty excited, because it gave me an excuse to do the following things on my birthday without being seen as a “self indulgent weirdo”:

  1. Dress in costume;
  2. Drink copious amounts of beer; and
  3. Demand attention from old German men.

As you can see, the day had all the ingredients to be amazing.  We had reservations at the Schottenhamel Tent and we got started early.

So, apparently there is this thing at Oktoberfest where you buy people you “like” cookies that have various German sayings on them.  Since my friends are completely awesome, they all pitched in to buy me a HUGE (and expensive) German necklace cookie that said “Happi Borsdai”.  It was like two feet across and like ten pounds.  


We started the day with some ‘cheese paste’ and turnips with salt on them.  You know, the good stuff.

They really like their salted turnips.  Trust me.  Look how drunk I am already:

Alright, let’s get down to the nuts.

There’s this thing at Oktoberfest called “chugging”.  If you haven’t heard of it before, it’s when you “chug” the contents of your beer down your throat all fast-like.  Since the steins at Oktoberfest are a full litre, it’s understandably a big deal when you chug your stein.  There is this tradition around it and everyone goes MENTAL when you chug.  ESPECIALLY if you are a girl.  So the deal is this:

  1. Stand up on your table
  2. Chug your beer to the insane drunk cheers of your thousands of new European friends

If you succeed in chugging your whole beer, you get to revel in the idolatry of inebriated old German men while sunlight shines down on you like in the beginning of The Lion King when Moufasa holds Simba up in the air.  If you fail, you get simultaneously pelted with pieces of old pretzels by hundreds of people.

So… it was my birthday…

And… I can chug a tidy beer…

And… I had on my giant birthday cookie of confidence.

So I decided that today was the day that I was going to stand on my table and chug a litre of beer. 

Let me preface this story by saying I intentionally traded in my “half full” stein of beer for a “totally full” stein of beer before I started chugging because I didn’t want to be a “giant pussy”.

Let’s view the video below to see how things went:

YEAH.  I was about 2/3rd of the way through my LITRE of beer, when the German security guard stopped me.

WHY??? You ask?

BECAUSE APPARENTLY, girls aren’t “allowed” to chug full steins.  GIRLS AREN’T ALLOWED.  That’s what the guy told me after. 

Now, I can understand that this rule is *probably* based on past experience they’ve gathered from years of girls trying to chug full steins then projectile barfing all over everyone.  However.  THOSE GIRLS AREN’T NATALIE.  Natalie can chug a litre of beer then ace a Physics exam.

At least I can take comfort in the fact that the whole tent of drunk people was on my side and booed the security guard then threw a bunch of pretzels at him.

The thesis of this story, as you can probably tell by my previous displays of awesomeness, is that I AM TOO HARDCORE FOR OKTOBERFEST.

Anyways, I was happy that I worked up the nerve to even try.   Incidentally, should you ever try to chug a litre stein, here is a tip – make sure you take a deep fucking breath, because it’s not the beer that’ll get ‘cha, it’s the fact that your nose and mouth are fucking sealed off in a glass with no oxygen for like a minute. 

Personally, I was *SO* nervous that I was breathing like an overweight Texan, so it was ten times worse.  Here is an artist’s rendition:

The table next to us was full of nice German people, and they took a liking to us, probably because we were playing Uno, which is apparently the United Nations of card games. 

They were SO nice that they even gave us their desserts, which were the most fucking delicious apple crisp things with apple sauce on the side EVER.


In the afternoon we decided to walk around the fairgrounds and go on roller coasters and drink more beer.  This roller coaster is called the Munchen Pooping, and it was in the shape of the Olympic rings. 

Since Munich hosted the Olympic games in 1972, and since there is no real other reason for it to be in the shape of the Olympic rings OTHER than the fact that it was built for the Olympics, that makes this roller coaster (that gets torn down and rebuilt every year by carnies) FORTY YEARS OLD.  I did not ride it.  I chose to stay back and drink more beer in the sun with my giant cookie.

That night, we went to an amazing dinner at a German restaurant and I ate  more ‘cheese paste’ and salted turnips.  IT WAS AMAZING. 

I also was instructed to bring my giant cookie to ensure my embarrassment would be as prolonged as possible, which was also amazing. 

Plus, the restaurant was so wonderful and nice that they gave me a free ceramic birthday stein. 

Incidentally, with my toque and my weird cookie and my cup everyone thought I looked like a homeless person and we were so drunk that it was hilarious to everyone.


Best Oktoberfest birthday ever.  Despite lack of full chug.  Here is an arty picture I took while we walked home drunk:

Tomorrow, my last day at Oktoberfest :(, but then on to more European adventures…  stay tuned.

Posted in Delicious Food, Drunken Observations, Favorite Things, Travel 5 Comments »

October 29, 2012

Hey, did you know that J Crew had a sale this weekend?  I did.  HA HA HA HA HA HA H AH AHAH AH HA HAHA .  Hence the new red dress.

In other news, apparently my hair has grown like two feet since the last time I straightened it.  I’m going to see how long I can grow it before it starts getting caught in like doors and electric pencil sharpeners and other comical “long hair getting caught in things” situations.

Posted in Outfit A Day No Comments »

Oktoberfest Day One – The Day I Threw Up

I know there has been a black hole in your life for the last month.  A black hole that can only be filled by sweet, sweet Natalie.

Rest assured that I have been scurrying about, adventuring and making mistakes with my life for the sole purpose of entertaining you.  As per several earlier posts, you may know that I have been counting down to a huge, mega-baller vacation to Europe.  It arrived, finally, and it was just as sweet as I imagined.  Sweeter than that moment when you add in the powdered cheese to your Kraft Dinner and it starts to react with the milk and margarine in the pot and then it melts and get all ‘non-powdery’ and you think you yourself “I’m going to eat this Kraft Dinner in less than 60 seconds.”

COULD anything be sweeter than that moment?  Yes. Yes it could.

Let’s rewind to the week before, when I was working 13 hour days for what seemed like three weeks straight to ensure I could actually take vacation in good conscience.   I literally worked until 1:00 am the FRIDAY BEFORE MY FLIGHT, then decided to just get fucked on cheap shitty Wine Rack wine, and at 3:00 am packed my flight essentials:

As you may or may not know, I have a disease called “Bitch Can’t Sleep on Planes”, which makes me unable to sleep on planes.  I have tried sleeping pills, Gravol, neck pillows, back-to-back movies starring Kristen Stewart, but none of it seems to work.  This time I again packed sleeping pills, but also created five “jelly bean surprise” snack-packs for each 90 minutes of plane time so that I could give myself a treat to pass the time if I didn’t fall asleep.

As a side note, I think I am actually, honestly, no-jokes-this-is-serious-and-should-go-to-counselling… addicted to jelly beans.  But let’s leave that for a later post.

Airport beers are the best beers because it makes the airport less awkward. And the airport is pretty awkward.  ALSO, this beer indicated the start of my vacation, so he deserved to be commemorated.

I didn’t take any pictures on the plane.  I don’t know why.  Usually I take those arty “picture of the wing-slash-picture of my knees-slash-picture of the sunrise over the clouds-slash-picture of the skyline as I’m leaving” pictures.  I guess I was too busy eating jelly beans.

The picture below is the first picture I took in Germany:

Please note that there are FIVE… FIVE different types of sausages on that plate.  EACH SAUSAGE WAS MORE EXHILARATING THAN THE LAST.

There was also Kartofflen Salad, which I quickly realized was German for “Fucking Delicious Potato Salad with Like Dill and Other Delicious Shit” and which was available EVERY-WHERE.

I must have been tired, because there are no other pictures of the sausage plate.  This is the next photo:

Top view of our table at Hofbrau Tent at Oktoberfest.  If you look closely, you can see the top of my boob.

OK.  So.  First stop of the trip was Munich, where I was fortunate enough to meet up with six of my friends who were also being ballers and travelling through Europe.  We made a pact to meet at Oktoberfest and fuck each other up.  Three days and three Oktoberfest tents.

This was day one.  Hofbrauhaus.



Wait, let’s take a look at that last one again:

And let’s just get some stuff out of the way:

Apparently this is the “rowdy” tent.   If you have not been to Oktoberfest in Munich, it is basically a huge fairground  that spans several football fields with about ten giant beer tents that hold like, five thousand people each, and everyone is drunk and dressed in costume (EVERYONE), and smashing huge litre glasses into other huge litre glasses and shattering them everywhere and people getting up and chugging and people throwing pretzels at them and stuff.  I think we were all a little jet-lagged, etc., because this was the day of which I have the least recollection.

You have to “reserve” tables months in advance by pre-buying several litre steins of beer and one half-chicken per person.   Anne is pleased with the prospect of chicken:


Ok… so… there was a point in the day when things started to not be that clear anymore…

I remember the table of guys next to us kept pushing their butts up against us, trying to take up precious “Bench Butt Space” as the space in the tents is scarce.

Then I remember being out for a smoke with them.

Then I remember them all like sitting at our table playing Uno.

Like, who’s this guy?  I have no fucking idea.

Who are these fucking chicks?  I have no recollection of this whatsoever.

Nope, never seen that guy in my life.

Yep, no idea.

For your consideration, in the image below, none of the men sitting with us is from our group.  Do we seem concerned?  Of course not.  There is a pretzel of unity at the table.

Best part of the picture above is the “Drunken Slow Drink” face of the guy on the left.  We called him “Holland Jared Leto”  because he was from Holland and he looked like Jared Leto.

Agnes is going to kill me for posting the picture above but I love it because it’s like a pure, visceral depiction of pure drunken joy.  BEST.

Ok, so one of the Holland boys sitting at the table took a liking to me and for some reason I gave him my email address.  I do not recall doing this, and the next morning when I woke up (more on that later…), I found these two pictures in my email, entitled “Drunk Photo”:


I think he bought “Boiled Kartofflens” and I stole one off his plate ate it out of my hand like an apple.  I also had the hand burns to prove it.

At some point we left the tent and walked around aimlessly in the fairgrounds.


Anne and I ran into these guys and naturally asked them to have a cigar and wear their hat.

Just so you know – those hats with the like bush-y, barber’s brush-type feather thing on the back are like THOUSANDS of dollars.  Why?  I don’t know.  I didn’t care enough to continue my research.

“Tongue sticking out in photo” is classic.  Classic.

Anyways, sorry to be anti-climactic about the throw up part but I woke up at 2:00 am and basically painted the hotel bathroom in vomit.

heh… read on tomorrow, when I discover I am TOO HARDCORE FOR OKTOBERFEST…

Posted in Delicious Food, Drunken Observations, Randomness, Travel 3 Comments »

Back in the Saddle

Stay tuned for items and things!


Posted in Randomness 3 Comments »