We snuck out of Gyna's apartment early Monday morning with gambling on the brain. The original plan was to make the arduous trip over to the famed Schloss Neuschwanstein so we could oggle the castle sham that triggered Disneyland. Because we love Disneyland. Disneyland is amazing. Got that, H8RZ?
Neuschwanstein was literally staged by a goddamn set designer and a mad king, basically guaranteeing a sort of crudely charming, slapdash fantasy riot, which pretty much describes like, my entire goddamn existence. How could I not belong there? But dze Germans gave Neuschwanstein a lackluster thumbs sideways, pushing us towards much more suitable and historically relevant castles in areas where there are more things to do, because if Germans are anything, they're practical. But MoLinder, Katsisch and I had already seen those kinds of castles. We wanted the daydream, not the reality.
Alas, we sought guidance from the oracles at Google, who imparted this knowledge: scaffolding. The treachery! The damn, dashing nerve of it all! Bunch of ruinous frogfuckers, that's what they are, going around ruining things, like Gilbert Grape's mom eating bolognese without a bib, just splattering sauce all over her pressed white shirt and beefy flapjack tits. Fucking scaffolding? On my castle?
"We could go to Salzburg," MoLinder suggested.
"I find it insane that a feasible option for tomorrow is a quick jaunt to Salzburg," Katsisch declared, which was bonkers because I thought she was completely zonked out in her very heavy-looking history book that had a title with a colon in it and a long, over explanatory subtitle, like History of Things: How The Fourth Great Awakening Launched a Resurgence of Religious Cultural Icons That Are Still Moderately Relevant Today In Certain Backwoods Areas of the Missouri Ozarks and One Small Corner of Arkansas, and Also Representations of Feminism, Oil, and the KKK.
"But I wanna see the pretty pretty castle," I whined.
"But you won't be able to see it. Scaffolding. And it sounds so hard to get to. It's a lot of travel time."
"Well yeah, but I wanna goooooo."
"And I've never been Austria."
Katsisch piped in. "Me neither!"
"And it's supposed to be awesome."
"Okay," I start doing business. "If you can convince me that Salzburg is more awesome than Neuschwanstein, I will gladly go without complaint."
"Done." MoLinder sniffed closely at the guidebook in her hand. "Mozart was from Salzburg."
"They have a castle fortress there. On a hill. Oh! And it's white."
"Sound of Music tour..."
"Excellent shopping, no...BEER, right? Scenery, mountains....oh, oh OH! They have a casino."
Katsisch perked from her book. "Casino?"
"I do always enjoy a good casino," I said.
MoLinder holds up her guidebook and reads triumphantly. "Schloss Klessheim is a baroque palace four kilometers west of--"
"A palace!" Kat squealed and clutched her book to her chest.
"-- the city. A former summer residence of the Archbishops of Salzburg, and used by Adolf Hitler--"
"HITLER!" She crumpled with giggles.
"--to host special guests and conferences, it is now a year-round Casino."
"CRAPS! WE ARE GOING. Screw Noishenvantengutencastlestein! We have to do this. Rass? WE HAVE GOT TO DO THIS!" She clamped onto her book, wrapping herself around it with delight. "Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!"
We have this thing, you see. It's a Rossi sister trait to roll up into a ball when (a) we are holding a book and (b) we find something incredibly exciting. Like most of you, I'm sure, my sisters and I were big heavy readers as kids. And it wasn't uncommon to have the three of us sitting together on the couch just reading and being still when our parents would announce something that would thrill us to the fucking core -- "We're getting a puppy!" -- "Let's go to the park!" -- "Who wants Burger King?" -- and we would fucking lose it and flail about, beating each other with our books in a frenzy and yelling words that aren't real.
So my parents realized they raised three girls with mild control issues. They trained us to fold around our books when exciting shit was going down just to keep us from clunking each other on the head. We still do this, but only when we are physically holding a book.
"Fucking. Yeah. Okay. Let's do Salzburg. But ONLY if we can go to Hitler's Casino. Because that sounds legit."
"HOORAY!" MoLinder shouted, and Katsisch rolled around Gyna's couch like the top of a bobblehead, squealing profusely and holding onto that book for dear life and jabbering on about updating her Facebook status.
But I think MoLinder put it best:
April 1 near Giesing, Bayern via mobile
Disney inspired castle trip tomorrow has been scrapped due to logistics and scaffolding. Looks like Salzburg instead! (the sisters Rossi are excited to gamble in a casino in one of Hitler's former residences)
So like I said, we snuck out of Gyna's apartment early Monday morning with gambling on the brain, and started to make our way to Salzburg.