It's freakin' MARCH

I keep getting my hopes up on every moderately sunny day, and then the weather laughs at me. I have half a mind to stay inside and boycott, except that I have stuff to do. Like possibly buy a stolen cell phone to replace my broken one...

It's not like I went out looking for shady dealings. I tried to be on the up-and-up about this. Puppy-dog eyes, however, are no match for Vodafone sales guys. I'd have to pay for a new phone anyway, and even then they'd make me get a new number (though I could get forwarding service from the old one for calls, but not text messages... so why can't I just keep my number, dangit?)

Since I was in town I stopped by Arul's restaurant to see if he was finally back from vacation, and lo and behold, he was! (Laura and I were secretly worried he'd fallen in love in Amsterdam and abandoned us.) I mentioned my plight, and he told me to talk to the guy who runs the phone shop next door, who is a pal of his... so we mosey on over there, and before I know it I'm looking through a cardboard box of obviously used phones. Cell-guy Andy took my hesitance (inner monologue: Ah, so this is what the black market looks like!) for dissatisfaction with the wares on offer, and told me I'd be better off waiting a day or two when he'd have a wider selection. I left him my number, and got a text later in the afternoon that he has a possible "shipment" of Nokia or Motorola coming in tomorrow. Super sketchy, right? So I'm going back tomorrow afternoon. Freakin' €20 for a functional phone and he can figure out how to let me keep my number?? Right on!

But... since the guy in the Vodafone store and sketchy phone store guy both took my phone apart and reassembled it again... it doesn't seem to be doing the turning-itself-on-and-off thing anymore. And the signal seems pretty steady... Maybe, just maybe, a professional hand was all it took! I'm leaving it on tonight and listening for conspicuously broken-sounding beeping. I may not have to turn to petty crime after all!!

Should things look good tomorrow, I think I'll charge up the credit at Andy's Phone Shack anyway for his trouble.

In other news, I cut off the end of my finger with a bread knife just before dinner. It's not too serious, Ibuprofin works wonders, and even the bandage isn't interfering with my typing too badly, but I think my clutziness has hit an all-time high. Or low, as the case may be. If it had to be a pointer finger, thank goodness it's the left hand. I'll be sure to post about it if and when gangrene sets in.

Injury or not, I'm tossing around the idea of hopping on the train to Weimar on Saturday morning and checking out the supposed ancestral homeland. I'm debating catching a return that evening or staying in a hostel overnight, since the fastest trains are still a smidge over 2 1/2 hours one way... I guess I'll pack for either and wing it. My guidebook is from 2003, so wish me luck! (Note to family: You guys might want to buy a more recent guidebook before you come to visit! Just an idea...)