Welcome to Vienna

Our adventure opens as I sit in a hotel room, thousands of miles away from home…. Our old home. This morning, as I’ve done every day for the last three weeks, I woke up in Vienna.


Yep. That’s in Europe.

My wife, for the purpose of this blog we’ll refer to her as “Coco”, walked into our Boston apartment on a Sunday like any other and said: “Vienna!” To which I responded, “Heck yes!” Three months later we catalogued and stored our vinyl, sold the furniture, and boarded a plane with six suitcases and two chihuahuas. Before you get all “oooohhh chihuahuas are so cute” on me, I’ll let you know these two are referred to as Bad Baby 1 & 2. BB1 has a habit of barking at everyone, everything, even a blank wall. Because that’s how he rolls. BB2 is an emotional mess. Itching for a good cry? She’s your pal with a romcom or touching soldier returns home type video. She’s the Buffalo Bill of our family, wanting to be under your skin for the closest proximity. Maybe cute-ish.

The four of us are living in a hotel, looking for apartments, and learning the Viennese lifestyle. This world of words is my attempt to chronicle the adventures and mishaps of moving to another country. Some days I’ll be a bit more Seattle; dealing with coffee, mood, weather, and hipsters. Others I’ll pull from my time in Boston; upfront and a bit snarky. No matter what, it will be honest. If I get a ticket for belching too loud in public, it’ll be here. When I completely offend a stranger by my horrible German skills and lack of accent, you’ll get the awkward and awesome play-by-play. And if I have a total win, like ordering my meal or getting my residence permit without incident, I’ll brag like a total boss.

Because that’s what I am… My own boss.



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