As I am not too keen on watching American TV news anchors relay mass amounts of misinformation to our often gullible public, I have only a limited idea of how much publicity the IAAF World Championships are getting stateside. In case you didn't know, this year they are being held in Berlin. We found out about them a month or so ago and debated buying tickets, but decided they were too expensive (they are). It is a bit of a shame, really, because a slew of amazing events have taken place and we have to watch the races broadcasted on big televisions in the bars on Potsdamer Platz.

A holy-cow congratulations to Usain Bolt for breaking the 100 (9.58) and 200m (19.19) world records. He runs like a crazy man with limbs grown too large for his body.

This evening was the 4x100 relay (everyone's favorite to watch). The Americans had another tricky hand-off. Saw it when it happened, but it is very difficult to tell. Even more difficult to see on a grainy television screen through the rain. They won a spot in the finals along with Trinidad & Tobago but have now been disqualified.

Suspicions have been raised over the sex of South Africa's top middle-distance runner (and female world champion) Caster Semenya. Seems she may have an unexpected Y chromosome, or produce extra testosterone. Officials are still waiting for the results of very thorough genetic tests. Even if there are proper grounds to strip her of the medal, this is surely an emotional, if not traumatic, experience for an 18-year-old woman.

What's more, you ask? Tomorrow is the men's marathon, in addition to the Champion's Run -- a 10k road race following part of the marathon's course. Registration closed in May or June, but I found an online contest through Tip Berlin magazine giving away 20 spots. I knew Matt has been running six miles regularly and had the desire to try out a race. So without telling him, I entered his name in the contest. And guess what -- he won! This past week we have been training (although I'm only the trainer, cheerleader and masseuse). Tonight we ate the pasta dinner. Tomorrow afternoon we will head up to Brandenburger Tor, stop by the Deutsche Telekom sponsorship booth to pick up his shirt, number and chip and at 3:45, he will be off. (Good luck, Matt!)

Looking for a little extra English-based socialization, the other week I began a hunt for good audiobooks and podcasts. That's when I discovered The Moth, a New York City-based live storytelling event. Their podcast features some of their best stories, and I've been enjoying it tremendously. Maybe you will, too.

http://www.themoth.org/podcast

Yesterday, after a long day at the market, we rewarded ourselves with an Eiskaffee (think root beer float with coffee instead of soda) at Kauf Dich Glücklich in Prenzlauerberg. We are making conscious efforts to cut down on the sweets. Less sesame ice cream from the café on Grimmstrasse. Fewer slices of cheesecake from Avril. No more sweet and sour gummies, even if I'm at the movies (Wednesday night, Jarmusch's Night on Earth, Lichtblick Kino in Prenzlauerberg). Of course, I don't know if it's wholly necessary. The effort to cut down, that is. Matt's running quite regularly and I join him at least once a week. The other day went particularly well and we ran 7.5 miles. I felt totally fine until I tried to make a 300-meter gut check.

Of course, not all of our days are spent snacking at decrepit public pools and lying in the sun. Much of our time is taken up by the domestic demands of adulthood. Especially because we have been cooking so much at home, a significant amount of time has to go into the shopping, preparation, enjoyment and clean-up of each meal. Either the peanut butter container needs to be rinsed or the kidney beans need their water changed. Excuses, right? But add that with the fact that each week presents us with a new challenge. Last week it was the internet. If you think compromising with Comcast's tele-personnel is a challenge, give it a try in German. Kabel Deutschland was, surprisingly, more sympathetic than Comcast. But only once we had the technician out to our house to replace our modem were we told that our router was also kaputt. In the end, after a long call to D-Link's service line and an unusual reset procedure, we were able to get it up and running without purchasing any replacement parts. Soon we will have to deal with more bicycle maintenance -- Matt's bike won't shift gears, mine has only one functional brake. And yesterday my headphones stopped working.

All of this costs money. But we have our venture selling Einkaufstaschen. If by chance any of you want one of these 100% cotton, long-handled shopping bags (save the environment and look great doing it!), let me know and I'll reserve one for you! I would be very honored, of course, to have some of you fine folks carry our bags. Only $9! All bags are printed on natural-colored cotton. The Berlin bag and the Bicycle bag are printed in black ink, the one we nicknamed Waves is royal blue. Check them out below, additional photos are on Flickr.

So much to get to. This week awarded us with the first summer-appropriate weather since arriving in Berlin. The last thing I have been wanting to do is sit in front of the computer. But today -- a chilly, gray Monday with rain falling slowly and steadily -- seems to be a good day to catch up and recover a bit from market day.

Like every Sunday, yesterday we hauled our table and totes up to Mauerpark. I thought that the hot, sunny weather would make for a productive day. But it also makes for a very sweaty and thirsty 8-hour market day, especially without the shelter of an awning or beach umbrella. We consumed enough sun the day before, when we took the train to the beach at Wannsee. (A one-hour ride from Kreuzberg. S-Bahn lines 1 and 7 stop at Nikolassee, from there it's just a half-mile walk to the beach. Entry costs 4€ for adults, 2,50€ for students.) Wannsee is one of the bigger lakes in the Berlin area even though it stays quite shallow. Dozens of sailboats tacked and jibbed their way across the greater part of the lake. The beach boasts volleyball courts, beach trampolines, giant chessboards and (our favorite) a waterslide. For those wanting a proper European beach experience, there is also a nudist section. The food is cheap, the beach, hot and the water, cool.

Friday was the closing day of the Urban Affairs: Extended, a large exhibition of some of the world's best urban artists, most notably El Bocho, Alias and Banksy. Although Philadelphia is attributed as being the birthplace of modern graffiti, Berlin has the right to claim itself the center of contemporary street art (think graffiti, stenciling, postering). I found the exhibition fascinating for the very fact that it was a professionally-executed art exhibition. The work was great, it was carefully curated, there were videos and interactive displays, and a gift shop sold streetwear, stencils and prints. It was put up in the Stadtbad Wedding, a public swimming hall that was closed down in 2002 and has since been hosting art exhibitions, concerts and parties, each event leaving behind an increasing number of broken tiles and pipes and fewer of the pool's original signs. This past winter the Grand Palais in Paris also hosted an urban art exhibition, thus legitimizing graffiti as fine art. I am curious to know how these artists feel about this fact. I'm sure they love the recognition (even if they only receive it under their pseudonym) and the money probably doesn't hurt. But I imagine that what brought these artists out late at night, sneaking around city streets and scaling walls in black hoodies, had more to do with the thrill of doing something illegal, engaging in an energetic and artistic rebellion. When the governments they were protesting begin to pay them to exhibit their work, or when art critics respond approvingly, does this thrill wear off? These artists are undeniably real artists -- they understand composition and color and can handle paint better than any art student I've ever met. Their subject matter is usually intelligent, critical, even witty. When it's not, it still passes as above-average graphic design. I hold an enormous amount of respect for these artists. It doesn't matter if anyone ever sees their work. They understand that their medium is very short-lived -- weather, city clean-up crews or even other artists can destroy hours' worth of work in a matter of minutes. And many of the murals just blow the sponsored contemporary art I've recently seen out of their art houses and galleries.

The best gallery show we've seen this summer was at the Lucas Carrieri gallery, a post-graffiti art collective in Mitte. Eron, an Italian street artist, creates realist portraits and landscapes using spray paint. Ebon Heath is a graphic (and more) artist based out of Brooklyn. He works with three-dimensional script.

My interest in contemporary art for the past couple of years has been directed at the rather vague "new media" and its computerized, interactive installations, but I made it a point earlier this year to start paying attention to and learning about contemporary painting. So soon after redirecting my attention, I'm faced with a new term to contemplate: post-graffiti.