oh, yeah, france?

You've got your long history of paralyzing railroad strikes? How 'bout them German apples? Front page news - which I have here in addition to constant radio coverage - of the German Lokführer strike has finally made it to the States .

The interesting thing, to me, is one, that we still call them locomotive drivers, which I find sort of Victorian and charming, and two, that a train strike really does mess up just about everything in Berlin. Strikes in the last few weeks have been sort of piddly, with regional trains and the S-bahn (which is like a commuter train but also like the subway) affected, but only for, say, 5 hours in a day, or from 2 am to 10 pm on a given day. This was a hardship, sure, but even with the strike, the trains never completely stopped running. I mean, a strike to me is a work stoppage.

But with this latest round, the GDL (locomotive drivers' union) seems to be upping the ante, taking out freight, local and international trains, and commuter services. But then, still not taking them out completely. Every other train will run, and the commuter trains every 20 minutes instead of every 10. But when you consider that EVERYONE takes the train here, you're dealing with some seriously frustrated people. The fact that the GDL is asking for a 31% increase in wages seems to set them up for an MTA-strike-level lack of public sympathy, but I also really don't know my German labor history.

And there is a little part of me that wouldn't mind terribly if the Euro weakened just an eensy, tiny bit against the dollar. Just for Christmas, come on! But I don't think I really mean that.

Have been up to my eyes, literally, in microfilm for the last week+, but am finding some good stuff. I'll be signing my contract on the new apartment next week, if all goes well, and Mom is coming to help me settle in and settle fast in early December. All this means that I am saving money and burning through stuff in the archives to have a few days free up ahead, which means I get home at 8 pm and have energy to maybe cook, maybe read one of my back-issue New York magazines that Kolz sent, and tunnel into my duvet to ward off the cold. Only my little hands and head stick out, so I can read/crossword/hold the phone. One of my friends said she'd never been as cold during a winter as her winter in Berlin, and I'm beginning to see the drawbacks of a charming old-build apartment. Bad insulation, kids, it'll get you.