Three Americans, a Moroccan, a German, and an Italian walk into an Indian restaurant in Berlin . . .

No, it's not the beginning of a joke. That was my brunch this morning.

I'd read and heard from a lot of people that the Sunday brunches in Prenzlauer Berg, where I live, were famous, but I'd never been to one (haven't really had people to go with, and don't see the point of eating out by myself). But on Friday, I went to a dinner at an English language bookstore and met another American who invited me to her Sunday brunch group, which consists of the above mentioned nationalities.

I had a terrific time. Talking with those people (conversation was in English, everyone's best common language) is sort of what I imagine the best version of grad school, and the academic life thereafter, to be like - hanging out with wicked smart, friendly people who like to talk about everything under the sun (eating an interesting mixture of Indian and German brunch food optional). And, you know, some paper writing once in a while.