In case you haven't seen it yet: Louis CK telling Conan O'Brien about how "everything is amazing and nobody is happy."
Hahahaha!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Gedanken
Things I love…
running
coffee
my office
napping
Bert’s voice
cinnamon
the smell of Hefeweizen
beer in general
trying to identify the gorgeous aromas rolling around in that glass of dark red wine
spring mornings
summer evenings
autumn days
winter nights
festivals on the Weinstraße
living in Germany
speaking German
Altstädte
waiting for the ICE
twitterpated couples
being healthy
funny women
good-hearted men
concerts with Bert
British humor
Beethoven
church bells
grins from strangers
people eating ice cream
IMing with Shauna and laughing my head off
foot rubs
driving
the opening of Elton John’s “Sacrifice”
plus the rest of the song
and everything by Cat Stevens, too
getting tipsy with friends
Seattle
dancing, dancing, dancing to good music
riding with Amy and listening to said good music
butterflies
trains
birdsong outside our window
the crescent moon
a farmer’s market
time to read a good book
climbing into the car with a map and a pack of sandwiches
ivy-grown ruins in the forest
herbs
my new perfume
big dark eyes
traveling with my mom
cooking with my brother
philosophizing with Dad & Sarah
dancing around wearing bug antennae with my little sisters
Things I’m sorta tired of…
missing Shauna
financial worry
highrises
the use of English as advertising-speak (New! Good! Meaningless!)
non-native German speakers not bothering to differentiate between du and Sie
people telling me I look pale (I am pale!)
guests freely informing us of the household items we lack ("Hey, you guys need to get some matching plates," "When are you going to cover these windows?")
Things I'm looking forward to...
cozying down on the couch with Berti in a couple minutes
my lesson plan for Monday (food & restaurant culture, it's gonna be fun!)
springtime
Shauna coming to visit!!!!
other Germany visits (you know who you are)!!!
getting paid in a week
hanging out with Mom next weekend
and seeing how her new job will develop
learning French
friends' future blog posts
going to the new Star Trek movie with my brother (we'll figure that out somehow)
seeing where we'll all be in two years
running
coffee
my office
napping
Bert’s voice
cinnamon
the smell of Hefeweizen
beer in general
trying to identify the gorgeous aromas rolling around in that glass of dark red wine
spring mornings
summer evenings
autumn days
winter nights
festivals on the Weinstraße
living in Germany
speaking German
Altstädte
waiting for the ICE
twitterpated couples
being healthy
funny women
good-hearted men
concerts with Bert
British humor
Beethoven
church bells
grins from strangers
people eating ice cream
IMing with Shauna and laughing my head off
foot rubs
driving
the opening of Elton John’s “Sacrifice”
plus the rest of the song
and everything by Cat Stevens, too
getting tipsy with friends
Seattle
dancing, dancing, dancing to good music
riding with Amy and listening to said good music
butterflies
trains
birdsong outside our window
the crescent moon
a farmer’s market
time to read a good book
climbing into the car with a map and a pack of sandwiches
ivy-grown ruins in the forest
herbs
my new perfume
big dark eyes
traveling with my mom
cooking with my brother
philosophizing with Dad & Sarah
dancing around wearing bug antennae with my little sisters
Things I’m sorta tired of…
missing Shauna
financial worry
highrises
the use of English as advertising-speak (New! Good! Meaningless!)
non-native German speakers not bothering to differentiate between du and Sie
people telling me I look pale (I am pale!)
guests freely informing us of the household items we lack ("Hey, you guys need to get some matching plates," "When are you going to cover these windows?")
Things I'm looking forward to...
cozying down on the couch with Berti in a couple minutes
my lesson plan for Monday (food & restaurant culture, it's gonna be fun!)
springtime
Shauna coming to visit!!!!
other Germany visits (you know who you are)!!!
getting paid in a week
hanging out with Mom next weekend
and seeing how her new job will develop
learning French
friends' future blog posts
going to the new Star Trek movie with my brother (we'll figure that out somehow)
seeing where we'll all be in two years
Sunday, February 01, 2009
Boofen in the Pfalz
We went camping last weekend!
Well, technically we went "Höhling", aka "Boofen", a word which is nicely reminiscent of doof -- German for "not so bright" -- which is how some people find the suggestion of camping in the winter. But the idea is actually rather cozy: you find a dry, half-open cave in the woods and build a crackling fire and set out your winter sleeping bag and cook up a pot of Glühwein with friends.
Not that we were all that successful at points one and two. The cave we'd first had in mind was occupied, so we settled for one that was open at both ends. This made it pretty ass-cold for sleeping out of doors in January -- despite the Smokiest Fire Ever Achieved, which took us half an hour to light using wet wood! -- but the weather was bright and sunny, the hiking was terrific, and the company great.
Mom and I both agreed that there is something magical about the Pfälzer Wald. The Odenwald on the other side of the Rhein River (love the name! "Odin Wood") is very beautiful, and, being less dark and thick and more open and accessible, it is Bert's and my hiking forest of choice. But the Pfälzer Wald is... mysterious. It feels larger, more ancient, more impenetrable, the sprinkling of villages more isolated. I've heard from others, too, that the Pfälzer Wald is a place where you imagine fairy tales originating. Contrary to the pleasantly settled Odenwald, the Pfälzer Wald is sheer wildwood.
Plus I really liked chopping it down. Well, not really, we actually just hacked at dead trees for firewood, but it was really fun. What is so pleasurable about this? About getting a good axe-swinging rhythm going and watching the chips fly, followed by the satisfaction of lugging fuel back to the campsite to warm your boyfriend? If hunting wood is this much of a thrill, imagine how it felt back in the day to come home with meat. Not that I'd enjoy the pressure of having no other choice: a walk to the farmer's market is infinitely less dangerous and more certain of the outcome. But a weekend in the quiet green of things really inspires one to get out of Ludwigshafen more often. And to get some exercise! Our bodies were made to thrive hiking and chopping and schlepping all day long, not sitting in front of a computer blogging!
Well, technically we went "Höhling", aka "Boofen", a word which is nicely reminiscent of doof -- German for "not so bright" -- which is how some people find the suggestion of camping in the winter. But the idea is actually rather cozy: you find a dry, half-open cave in the woods and build a crackling fire and set out your winter sleeping bag and cook up a pot of Glühwein with friends.
Not that we were all that successful at points one and two. The cave we'd first had in mind was occupied, so we settled for one that was open at both ends. This made it pretty ass-cold for sleeping out of doors in January -- despite the Smokiest Fire Ever Achieved, which took us half an hour to light using wet wood! -- but the weather was bright and sunny, the hiking was terrific, and the company great.
Mom and I both agreed that there is something magical about the Pfälzer Wald. The Odenwald on the other side of the Rhein River (love the name! "Odin Wood") is very beautiful, and, being less dark and thick and more open and accessible, it is Bert's and my hiking forest of choice. But the Pfälzer Wald is... mysterious. It feels larger, more ancient, more impenetrable, the sprinkling of villages more isolated. I've heard from others, too, that the Pfälzer Wald is a place where you imagine fairy tales originating. Contrary to the pleasantly settled Odenwald, the Pfälzer Wald is sheer wildwood.
Plus I really liked chopping it down. Well, not really, we actually just hacked at dead trees for firewood, but it was really fun. What is so pleasurable about this? About getting a good axe-swinging rhythm going and watching the chips fly, followed by the satisfaction of lugging fuel back to the campsite to warm your boyfriend? If hunting wood is this much of a thrill, imagine how it felt back in the day to come home with meat. Not that I'd enjoy the pressure of having no other choice: a walk to the farmer's market is infinitely less dangerous and more certain of the outcome. But a weekend in the quiet green of things really inspires one to get out of Ludwigshafen more often. And to get some exercise! Our bodies were made to thrive hiking and chopping and schlepping all day long, not sitting in front of a computer blogging!
More thoughts on food
Speaking of what our bodies were made for: I just finished a super book, The Jungle Effect, by Dr. Daphne Miller (thank you, Amy!). I highly recommend it. It's not only a good read, it also really inspires you to take your health into your own hands and get cooking. The book explores the secrets behind the mystifying good health and longevity of people who eat indigenous foods -- by which the author means fresh, unprocessed, and local -- as opposed to the flabby, increasingly diseased populations of "developed" cultures who eat things out of packages. She points to what should be obvious: if it's fresh and local, your body was made to eat it. If not... well, you get America.
This book really pushed open a door for me that was already somewhat ajar. In the last ten years, I've developed an increasing distrust of the processed foodlike substances that comprise the foundation of our western diets. Think about it -- almost everything in the grocery store has been manipulated to be somehow different from its original form. Even white flour has been treated to remove the wheat germ, and it's only in the last generation that we've realized, hey wait! This seemingly harmless "improvement" actually made the food inferior.
So what about when we add stuff, instead of just subtracting it? I know that long list of unpronounceable ingredients is such common packaging adornment that it's unusual not to see at least a couple chemicals on there. It's normal. Besides, we don't immediately keel over after ingesting a portion of meat treated with sodium nitrate, so it can't be that bad, right? We simply accept that we won't understand everything on the back of the label, the same way we don't understand everything that goes on under the hood of the car. We're just the consumers; they're the nutritionists and chemists, the "experts".
I take issue with a couple of these assumptions. First of all, food is not a car engine. Food is food. Why shouldn't you be able to identify everything in your meal, and ingest it in a form you could recognize? It never needed to be engineered or tinkered with until we humans thought we were so scientifically omniscient that we could "improve" on a complex system that we are only just realizing we don't know a damn thing about.
It's this sheer normalcy of additives that I find the most pernicious -- after all, when every single package of lunchmeat lists "sodium nitrate", it makes us quietly wonder, oh come on, how bad can it really be? Only conspiracy theorists or obsessively orthodox hippies would really get their panties in a bunch about it.
Which brings me to my second point, the assumption that if it were truly toxic, no one would be allowed to sell it.
Not that any potential toxicity is intentional. I don't think the owner of that sausage-processing plant is twisting his mustache and congratulating himself on fooling the gullible mortals. I just think it's absurd -- and patently untrue -- to think we know everything; that the simple approval of some government body automatically makes something safe.
The thing is, potentially harmful chemical additives are such slow poisons that we can't recognize them as bad news in the short time we spend experimenting on them. But when we're living eighty-plus years, that slowness is suddenly relevant. The cancer and heart disease and diabetes and depression develop years later, and any cause-and-effect connections -- like the pretty unmistakable conclusions you'd come to after putting a poisonous mushroom in your mouth -- are not quickly apparent. So we chew the processed cookie-like substance, swallow it, don't immediately die, and think it must be okay.
Today, we all shake our heads in wonder that 1950s doctors endorsed smoking. In the seventies, scientists confidently reported that margarine and other hydrogenated oil -- a product of modern, all-knowing and holy Science! -- was good for you. Why do we think that we're so much wiser, just because we're at the forefront of history? To continue harping on sodium nitrate, it's only now that we're seeing a direct link between ingestion of this substance and colon cancer. Indeed, someone close to Bert & me, who has been a lifelong processed-meat eater, is struggling with this very disease.
So why do we tinker with our food at all? To make it more sellable. To be able to produce higher quantities of it. To make it taste "better" and thus be more competitive with its neighbors on the supermarket shelf. Chemical additives are not necessary. It's one thing if food were unavailable and we traded the evil of artificial substances for the greater evil of starvation. Hell, if UNICEF needs to add extra salt to a rescue package to keep it from spoiling in a blistering hot refugee camp, that's understandable. But we in America are not starving. Instead, we're being chemmed to death.
I am not suggesting that we keep a careful list of "forbidden ingredients" to take with us to the grocery store and minutely dissect every label. In fact, I don't think we should be picky about our chems at all: I think we shouldn't eat them. A good rule of thumb would be, if there's an ingredient on the list whose appearance you can't picture in your head, there's no guarantee that it's food. Or better yet, do as Dr. Miller in The Jungle Effect suggests: instead of trying to navigate the world of processed food, just buy some ingredients and make it yourself.
This does mean a commitment to cooking. But I'd rather spend 30 more minutes in the kitchen every evening than 60 minutes on dialysis three times a week when I'm sixty.
Sure, not everyone gets sick from food chemicals. And not everyone who smokes dies of lung cancer. But I think there's enough evidence out there now to show that smoking is not a good idea. At the best, food additives are nutritionally useless. At the worst, they are possibly -- and in some cases, proveably -- harmful artificial products manufactured by frighteningly fallible humans within the last fifty years. I'll prefer not to take my chances!
The nice thing is that we have a choice these days. I've noticed a difference in the availability of natural products even in the last ten years. You don't have to go all crazy with the organic and pay seven bucks for a pound of spinach; but if you have a choice between cocoa mix that contains "cocoa powder, sugar, and dried milk" and "cocoa powder, partially hydrogenated soybean oil, high fructose corn syrup, whey solids, sodium aluminocilicate, sugar, E538", I think one of those two isn't doing you any favors.
This book really pushed open a door for me that was already somewhat ajar. In the last ten years, I've developed an increasing distrust of the processed foodlike substances that comprise the foundation of our western diets. Think about it -- almost everything in the grocery store has been manipulated to be somehow different from its original form. Even white flour has been treated to remove the wheat germ, and it's only in the last generation that we've realized, hey wait! This seemingly harmless "improvement" actually made the food inferior.
So what about when we add stuff, instead of just subtracting it? I know that long list of unpronounceable ingredients is such common packaging adornment that it's unusual not to see at least a couple chemicals on there. It's normal. Besides, we don't immediately keel over after ingesting a portion of meat treated with sodium nitrate, so it can't be that bad, right? We simply accept that we won't understand everything on the back of the label, the same way we don't understand everything that goes on under the hood of the car. We're just the consumers; they're the nutritionists and chemists, the "experts".
I take issue with a couple of these assumptions. First of all, food is not a car engine. Food is food. Why shouldn't you be able to identify everything in your meal, and ingest it in a form you could recognize? It never needed to be engineered or tinkered with until we humans thought we were so scientifically omniscient that we could "improve" on a complex system that we are only just realizing we don't know a damn thing about.
It's this sheer normalcy of additives that I find the most pernicious -- after all, when every single package of lunchmeat lists "sodium nitrate", it makes us quietly wonder, oh come on, how bad can it really be? Only conspiracy theorists or obsessively orthodox hippies would really get their panties in a bunch about it.
Which brings me to my second point, the assumption that if it were truly toxic, no one would be allowed to sell it.
Not that any potential toxicity is intentional. I don't think the owner of that sausage-processing plant is twisting his mustache and congratulating himself on fooling the gullible mortals. I just think it's absurd -- and patently untrue -- to think we know everything; that the simple approval of some government body automatically makes something safe.
The thing is, potentially harmful chemical additives are such slow poisons that we can't recognize them as bad news in the short time we spend experimenting on them. But when we're living eighty-plus years, that slowness is suddenly relevant. The cancer and heart disease and diabetes and depression develop years later, and any cause-and-effect connections -- like the pretty unmistakable conclusions you'd come to after putting a poisonous mushroom in your mouth -- are not quickly apparent. So we chew the processed cookie-like substance, swallow it, don't immediately die, and think it must be okay.
Today, we all shake our heads in wonder that 1950s doctors endorsed smoking. In the seventies, scientists confidently reported that margarine and other hydrogenated oil -- a product of modern, all-knowing and holy Science! -- was good for you. Why do we think that we're so much wiser, just because we're at the forefront of history? To continue harping on sodium nitrate, it's only now that we're seeing a direct link between ingestion of this substance and colon cancer. Indeed, someone close to Bert & me, who has been a lifelong processed-meat eater, is struggling with this very disease.
So why do we tinker with our food at all? To make it more sellable. To be able to produce higher quantities of it. To make it taste "better" and thus be more competitive with its neighbors on the supermarket shelf. Chemical additives are not necessary. It's one thing if food were unavailable and we traded the evil of artificial substances for the greater evil of starvation. Hell, if UNICEF needs to add extra salt to a rescue package to keep it from spoiling in a blistering hot refugee camp, that's understandable. But we in America are not starving. Instead, we're being chemmed to death.
I am not suggesting that we keep a careful list of "forbidden ingredients" to take with us to the grocery store and minutely dissect every label. In fact, I don't think we should be picky about our chems at all: I think we shouldn't eat them. A good rule of thumb would be, if there's an ingredient on the list whose appearance you can't picture in your head, there's no guarantee that it's food. Or better yet, do as Dr. Miller in The Jungle Effect suggests: instead of trying to navigate the world of processed food, just buy some ingredients and make it yourself.
This does mean a commitment to cooking. But I'd rather spend 30 more minutes in the kitchen every evening than 60 minutes on dialysis three times a week when I'm sixty.
Sure, not everyone gets sick from food chemicals. And not everyone who smokes dies of lung cancer. But I think there's enough evidence out there now to show that smoking is not a good idea. At the best, food additives are nutritionally useless. At the worst, they are possibly -- and in some cases, proveably -- harmful artificial products manufactured by frighteningly fallible humans within the last fifty years. I'll prefer not to take my chances!
The nice thing is that we have a choice these days. I've noticed a difference in the availability of natural products even in the last ten years. You don't have to go all crazy with the organic and pay seven bucks for a pound of spinach; but if you have a choice between cocoa mix that contains "cocoa powder, sugar, and dried milk" and "cocoa powder, partially hydrogenated soybean oil, high fructose corn syrup, whey solids, sodium aluminocilicate, sugar, E538", I think one of those two isn't doing you any favors.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
America the Visible
Sometimes I wish I came from a country that wasn't so, well, well-known.
Not that I don't love my country -- you bet I do. But because America is everywhere in the news, because American films & music are broadcast so widely, everyone here seems to think they know something about the place. Everyone has an opinion. And you can't really blame them; for several decades, we've been a leading force in world economy and politics, and it's probably a good idea to have your eye on the biggest kid on the playground. But in the minority are those who have experienced the U.S. first-hand; the rest derive their (sometimes bafflingly) strident beliefs through the second- and third-hand cultural artifacts of media and news reports. And it's especially those who seem to take America's apparent imperviousness as license for mean potshots.
I sometimes imagine how nice it'd be to respond to that "so where are you from?" question with, I dunno, "Tobago." Not that nobody knows Tobago; it's just that they're bound to have limited knowledge of the place and wouldn't dream, upon hearing its name, of commencing to lecture you about it.
Or as my stepmom, Sarah, once mused, wouldn't it be fun to say you're from Australia? Most people like Australia -- they think of sun and beer and surfers and friendly people.
Of course every country has its dark side, Australia included. I just sometimes fantasize about claiming affiliation with one that isn't so overexposed.
Not that I don't love my country -- you bet I do. But because America is everywhere in the news, because American films & music are broadcast so widely, everyone here seems to think they know something about the place. Everyone has an opinion. And you can't really blame them; for several decades, we've been a leading force in world economy and politics, and it's probably a good idea to have your eye on the biggest kid on the playground. But in the minority are those who have experienced the U.S. first-hand; the rest derive their (sometimes bafflingly) strident beliefs through the second- and third-hand cultural artifacts of media and news reports. And it's especially those who seem to take America's apparent imperviousness as license for mean potshots.
I sometimes imagine how nice it'd be to respond to that "so where are you from?" question with, I dunno, "Tobago." Not that nobody knows Tobago; it's just that they're bound to have limited knowledge of the place and wouldn't dream, upon hearing its name, of commencing to lecture you about it.
Or as my stepmom, Sarah, once mused, wouldn't it be fun to say you're from Australia? Most people like Australia -- they think of sun and beer and surfers and friendly people.
Of course every country has its dark side, Australia included. I just sometimes fantasize about claiming affiliation with one that isn't so overexposed.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Kitty want some peanut butter?
(Or alternatively, "Can I has kofee kup?")
Since 30 minutes isn't really a sufficient amount of time to involve myself in a constructive project before my next appointment, I think I'll take this time to blog about cats, instead.
Specifically, my mom's cat, Lucy. Lucy has always been a little crazed -- crazed for attention, crazed for food, crazed to get outside, etc. -- and like any cat, she's accustomed to equate the clinking of silverware on a dish with the possibility of forthcoming yumminess.
So my question is: Do cats have object permanence? That is, do they still recognize an object for what it is, even when it's out of sight?
See, lately (oh, who am I kidding, for the last 18 years) I can't stand at the kitchen counter without Lucy making every attempt to trip my feet in an effort to obtain her share of what I'm preparing. I can be doing the dishes, and she's still crazily clawing my pant leg to get some of whatever it is I am certainly keeping from her.
I have taken to trying to amend this by actually showing her my countertop secrets. She stands there on the floor, "mreep! mreep! mreep!" and I, without setting anything down, lean way over to present her with the spoon and coffee cup that I am manipulating up there. She inspects it. Sniff, sniff, sniff. Then looks up at me accusingly: "Come on," her look insists, "what do you really have?" I turn back to the counter, and she starts trilling eagerly again.
I put the lid on the peanut butter jar and turn to put it back in the fridge -- only to trip on the cat.
"Dammit, Lucy!" I mutter, trying to retain both balance and jar. "Mreep!" she demands. So I lean down for her to get a better look at the closed peanut butter. Sniff, sniff, sniff. "Nikki, this is totally uninteresting." "Yes, it is! And that's all I've got up here!"
So back and forth, back and forth she follows me across the kitchen floor. Counter, sink, fridge, coffee pot. I always show her what it is I just pulled out, yet she never equates this with the strange goings-on beyond her level of sight. Am I right in calling this a lack of object permanence? She observes me returning a boring item to the countertop, but as soon as she can't see that it's the same boring item, she imagines it's something new.
Her nagging can't be due to simple hunger -- she just ate, and there's even food left in her bowl. It's not attention -- I pick her up to snuggle her, and she just twists to get a look at the counter. I hold her closer to the glass of beer; she inspects it; I put her down; she resumes frantically trying to see what's up there.
Am I a bad catsitter? Are these unmistakable signs of some need that I, in my incompetence and neglect, am not divining?
Help me, O Internetworldland!
Since 30 minutes isn't really a sufficient amount of time to involve myself in a constructive project before my next appointment, I think I'll take this time to blog about cats, instead.
Specifically, my mom's cat, Lucy. Lucy has always been a little crazed -- crazed for attention, crazed for food, crazed to get outside, etc. -- and like any cat, she's accustomed to equate the clinking of silverware on a dish with the possibility of forthcoming yumminess.
So my question is: Do cats have object permanence? That is, do they still recognize an object for what it is, even when it's out of sight?
See, lately (oh, who am I kidding, for the last 18 years) I can't stand at the kitchen counter without Lucy making every attempt to trip my feet in an effort to obtain her share of what I'm preparing. I can be doing the dishes, and she's still crazily clawing my pant leg to get some of whatever it is I am certainly keeping from her.
I have taken to trying to amend this by actually showing her my countertop secrets. She stands there on the floor, "mreep! mreep! mreep!" and I, without setting anything down, lean way over to present her with the spoon and coffee cup that I am manipulating up there. She inspects it. Sniff, sniff, sniff. Then looks up at me accusingly: "Come on," her look insists, "what do you really have?" I turn back to the counter, and she starts trilling eagerly again.
I put the lid on the peanut butter jar and turn to put it back in the fridge -- only to trip on the cat.
"Dammit, Lucy!" I mutter, trying to retain both balance and jar. "Mreep!" she demands. So I lean down for her to get a better look at the closed peanut butter. Sniff, sniff, sniff. "Nikki, this is totally uninteresting." "Yes, it is! And that's all I've got up here!"
So back and forth, back and forth she follows me across the kitchen floor. Counter, sink, fridge, coffee pot. I always show her what it is I just pulled out, yet she never equates this with the strange goings-on beyond her level of sight. Am I right in calling this a lack of object permanence? She observes me returning a boring item to the countertop, but as soon as she can't see that it's the same boring item, she imagines it's something new.
Her nagging can't be due to simple hunger -- she just ate, and there's even food left in her bowl. It's not attention -- I pick her up to snuggle her, and she just twists to get a look at the counter. I hold her closer to the glass of beer; she inspects it; I put her down; she resumes frantically trying to see what's up there.
Am I a bad catsitter? Are these unmistakable signs of some need that I, in my incompetence and neglect, am not divining?
Help me, O Internetworldland!
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
President Barack Hussein Obama!
Wow. Watching his inaugural address, all I could do was stare gape-jawed and think, "This is our president? Him?? This intelligent, rational, inspirational, humble, idealistic, powerful example of the American Dream?"
I can't believe it. We have a leader we can be proud of. Of course it won't be easy; I don't envy the guy the herculean task -- check that, mountain of tasks -- before him. And of course his simple assumption of office isn't the solution to our problems: I hope not too many Americans are naive enough to believe that, like the tidy happy ending to a movie. But! I can think of no better mind and figure to lead us through this. There was not a single statement he made that I didn't either congratulate him on or cheer him through.
Hot damn, our president is frigging Pericles.
Gobama.
I can't believe it. We have a leader we can be proud of. Of course it won't be easy; I don't envy the guy the herculean task -- check that, mountain of tasks -- before him. And of course his simple assumption of office isn't the solution to our problems: I hope not too many Americans are naive enough to believe that, like the tidy happy ending to a movie. But! I can think of no better mind and figure to lead us through this. There was not a single statement he made that I didn't either congratulate him on or cheer him through.
Hot damn, our president is frigging Pericles.
Gobama.
Separation of Church and State?
What's this? We still have a prayer during the Inauguration? So we're excluding all non-Christian (or non-religious) Americans from this ceremony?
Now the pastor is reciting the Lord's Prayer. That's fine in church or at home, but not at one of the most important -- if not the most important -- governmental ceremonies. I wonder if he'll place his hand on the Bible now.
Hm. However well-meant, I find this inappropriate.
Now the pastor is reciting the Lord's Prayer. That's fine in church or at home, but not at one of the most important -- if not the most important -- governmental ceremonies. I wonder if he'll place his hand on the Bible now.
Hm. However well-meant, I find this inappropriate.
Inauguration Day!
Oooo, wish I could be there! Berti will be home soon and we'll open a bottle of bubbly... thank goodness we're six hours ahead of Washington so I can watch it after work!
(Giddy noises! ngeeeeeeeeeee....!)
(Giddy noises! ngeeeeeeeeeee....!)
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Berti in the desert
We've still got to get the rest of our trip pictures organized and uploaded... but I just like this one. (You cutie!)
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Incredible Greece pictures
Feeling in need of some sunshine? Check out the pics from our Greece trip from last August! Shauna has posted a lot of them online, including new albums of Sounion, Santorini, and Crete. Gooooorgeous...
Friday, January 09, 2009
At least I got to see him at Christmas
Haven't really had the heart to blog much this last week, since my grampa Bill died on Saturday. It was weird and sudden and shocking. I don't think I really believe he's gone, yet. He was just sitting in his chair reading the book Shauna gave him for Christmas.
He can't be gone, he hasn't finished his book yet.
I can't think about it. I have to go distract myself now.
He can't be gone, he hasn't finished his book yet.
I can't think about it. I have to go distract myself now.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Arizona Dreamin'
...on such a snowy dayyyyy!
It's been a whirlwind last couple of days, mostly consisting of marvelous rejuvenating visits with dear people.
After renting a new Jeep Liberty (woot) last Friday for our trek into the northern wild, Bert & I made a quick stop on our way out of town to visit a certain Rabbi I used to know. I didn't even know if he would be around the synagogue -- it was simply Saturday afternoon, Shabbat, and where else would he be? So we pulled into that familiar parking lot, moseyed down the hall toward the sanctuary, and I heard a familiar voice singing. There he was as ever: on the bima directing a group of Youth Orchestra and generally just zooming around like the feisty, red-bearded rabbi I remember. I decided to have a seat in the front row and just wait for a break in the rehearsal. But he spotted me walking down the aisle and paused in mid-sentence; did a double-take; grinned; then told the choir when they'd meet for the next rehearsal and descended from the bima shaking his head. It was classic! The first thing he said was, "I thought you were in Germany!"
Me: "Well, I am..."
Him: "No you're not, you're right here!"
We had a necessarily short but wonderful catch-up as congregants buzzed around trying to get his attention (as usual), then said shalom until the next time I stop by Tucson...
The next stop were the ladies at the salon -- everyone says "Hi, Connie!" and sends their love! -- and then we picked up a quick burrito at Los Betos before hitting the I-10 up to Phoenix, and Dave & Nena.
It was wonderful to see them! We showed up on their doorstep on Saturday evening and had a great time catching up over half-cooked burgers (ha ha, Dave!) and tasty wines. The original plan was just to spend the night; but since my buddy Matt was getting over a nasty cold, we forgoed (forwent??) the overnighting at his place and ended up loitering around with Dave & Nena until Tuesday morning, eking out every possible minute to just gab and hang out. They were great hosts, and just as fun and sweet as ever. It was like visiting family.
We fortunately also still got to see Matt, who, despite the germs, showed us the best beer & wine stops in town (can we say, 4,000 wines under one roof?) and cooked us breakfast on Monday. Every time we get together it's like no time has passed -- I only wish we could do so more often. Maybe next time will be on our side of the pond again for more Euro-sploring.
It's been a whirlwind last couple of days, mostly consisting of marvelous rejuvenating visits with dear people.
After renting a new Jeep Liberty (woot) last Friday for our trek into the northern wild, Bert & I made a quick stop on our way out of town to visit a certain Rabbi I used to know. I didn't even know if he would be around the synagogue -- it was simply Saturday afternoon, Shabbat, and where else would he be? So we pulled into that familiar parking lot, moseyed down the hall toward the sanctuary, and I heard a familiar voice singing. There he was as ever: on the bima directing a group of Youth Orchestra and generally just zooming around like the feisty, red-bearded rabbi I remember. I decided to have a seat in the front row and just wait for a break in the rehearsal. But he spotted me walking down the aisle and paused in mid-sentence; did a double-take; grinned; then told the choir when they'd meet for the next rehearsal and descended from the bima shaking his head. It was classic! The first thing he said was, "I thought you were in Germany!"
Me: "Well, I am..."
Him: "No you're not, you're right here!"
We had a necessarily short but wonderful catch-up as congregants buzzed around trying to get his attention (as usual), then said shalom until the next time I stop by Tucson...
The next stop were the ladies at the salon -- everyone says "Hi, Connie!" and sends their love! -- and then we picked up a quick burrito at Los Betos before hitting the I-10 up to Phoenix, and Dave & Nena.
It was wonderful to see them! We showed up on their doorstep on Saturday evening and had a great time catching up over half-cooked burgers (ha ha, Dave!) and tasty wines. The original plan was just to spend the night; but since my buddy Matt was getting over a nasty cold, we forgoed (forwent??) the overnighting at his place and ended up loitering around with Dave & Nena until Tuesday morning, eking out every possible minute to just gab and hang out. They were great hosts, and just as fun and sweet as ever. It was like visiting family.
We fortunately also still got to see Matt, who, despite the germs, showed us the best beer & wine stops in town (can we say, 4,000 wines under one roof?) and cooked us breakfast on Monday. Every time we get together it's like no time has passed -- I only wish we could do so more often. Maybe next time will be on our side of the pond again for more Euro-sploring.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
TGiF
We had such a lovely time last night with a bunch of the old peeps!
We met at Guadalajara Grill for happy-hour margarita pitchers and the sort of fajitas I've been craving for a year and a half (!); then it was over to Tina's to hang out some more before heading over to a Feuerzangenbowle party given by one of the new(er) folks at the German department. And it was a blast! It was not only fun to meet the "generations" who've started at the department since I left (lots of great Leute!), it was also an absolute delight to see all the friends I've missed in Tucson.
Thank you for coming out everybody, and for such a wonderful time!!
We met at Guadalajara Grill for happy-hour margarita pitchers and the sort of fajitas I've been craving for a year and a half (!); then it was over to Tina's to hang out some more before heading over to a Feuerzangenbowle party given by one of the new(er) folks at the German department. And it was a blast! It was not only fun to meet the "generations" who've started at the department since I left (lots of great Leute!), it was also an absolute delight to see all the friends I've missed in Tucson.
Thank you for coming out everybody, and for such a wonderful time!!
Friday, December 12, 2008
Fun in the Sun
We're having such a marvelous time!
Just about to run off to hike in the Santa Catalina Mountains north of Tucson; but I wanted to write a quick post to say that all is gorgeous down Arizona way. Laying cuddled in our silky bed to watch a beautiful palm-silhouetted sunrise over the mountains from our huge picture windows; seeing airplanes at the Pima Air & Space Museum and going shopping and eating and exploring and catching up with favorite professors and old friends -- we got to take a long walk on the UofA campus with Missy Kosanke yesterday! It was so great to see her! -- and just generally being On Vacation.
Tomorrow (Saturday) we're off to see Dave and Nena, and then Matt Gallucci in Phoenix! After which we'll head north into wild country and see ancient Native American ruins and petroglyphs, followed by a visit in Sedona with my Grampa Dale and Gramma Lois, and finally the Grand Canyon...
Life is good!!
Just about to run off to hike in the Santa Catalina Mountains north of Tucson; but I wanted to write a quick post to say that all is gorgeous down Arizona way. Laying cuddled in our silky bed to watch a beautiful palm-silhouetted sunrise over the mountains from our huge picture windows; seeing airplanes at the Pima Air & Space Museum and going shopping and eating and exploring and catching up with favorite professors and old friends -- we got to take a long walk on the UofA campus with Missy Kosanke yesterday! It was so great to see her! -- and just generally being On Vacation.
Tomorrow (Saturday) we're off to see Dave and Nena, and then Matt Gallucci in Phoenix! After which we'll head north into wild country and see ancient Native American ruins and petroglyphs, followed by a visit in Sedona with my Grampa Dale and Gramma Lois, and finally the Grand Canyon...
Life is good!!
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Back to Two-Sun! Days Wun & Too
Oh give me a home, where the rattlesnakes roam
And the exits are blocked through Speedway
But the hotel's a dream
And the air's fresh and clean
And the sunshine is sparkling all dayyy!
Ahhhh, vacation!! We're still being stalked by some jetlag -- it's 8:30pm and we wanna go to bed already -- so I'll keep this short; but pictures will follow!
It's the end of our second perfect day. After a looooooong but mercifully uneventful trip west (think 24 hours, half of them spent in a remarkably small plane) we fell into the silken marshmallow that serves as our bed and conked out until 8:30 am.
Monday, we had a leisurely (and delicious, and free) breakfast at the hotel restaurant before setting out to see some lovely scenery on our way to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. I've been to the Museum before, but never get tired of it. It's more a zoo/nature park than your typical indoor "museum", and we saw demonstrations with venomous reptiles and with gracefully free-flying hawks as we wandered the extensive and lovingly-maintained grounds. A quick lunch in the museum cafe, a stop at the grocery store for some essentials to stock our hotel fridge, and we were already turning in again for some well-needed rest.
Today, Tuesday, we woke up incredibly early thanks to still being on Germany time, and again enjoyed our breakfast in the bright sunshine. Then it was off to poke around Sports Authority (didn't find anything, but we can't resist sports/outdoor stores), make some unique discoveries at a few artisan shops downtown (lots of southwesterly gifts to take back home!), stop off at Rum Runner to assemble a nice sampler of American brews (and pick up more gifts), catch a coffee at Bentley's, visit my much-missed Tiny House from the outside, and then swing by the University to pick up Tina. And that all before twelve!
From there, we drove through the bright sunshine down to the Titan II Missile Museum, a former-nuclear-missle-silo-turned-historic-site in Saguarita, AZ. The tour was led by a former crew member, who had personal anecdotes and detailed information to share about life in a missile silo. He selected Tina as his "control commander" and she got to demonstrate how one could have turned the key to initiate mutual nuclear annihilation. Jesus. They make a point of stressing how the existence of such weapons during the Cold War was a necessary part of the military's policy of "peace through deterrence": in other words, if anyone pulls the trigger, nobody wins. Still, it was pretty chilling.
So after ogling some weapons of mass destruction, we drove just a bit down the highway back toward Tucson and arrived at the old Spanish mission, San Xavier del Bac. They've finished restoration on the west side of the two-hundred-year-old building, and it looks beautiful; inside, an organist was practicing for Mass. Quite nice. We took some pictures just before the sun went down and then finished up the day at El Charro, the oldest Mexican restaurant in Tucson.
Well! Sorry for the rather dry report, but I am bushed! Hopefully after we adapt a bit more to the time change, I'll have some creative juice still left at the end of the day for a more entertaining recounting... until then, just wanted to say that the trip has been perfect and beautiful so far. Tomorrow, we're off to view the sister attraction to the Titan site, the Pima Air and Space Museum.
In the meantime there's a silken marshmallow of a bed waiting for me... mm, fluffy on the outside, tall handsome sleepy German on the inside... Nachty-Nacht everyone!
And the exits are blocked through Speedway
But the hotel's a dream
And the air's fresh and clean
And the sunshine is sparkling all dayyy!
Ahhhh, vacation!! We're still being stalked by some jetlag -- it's 8:30pm and we wanna go to bed already -- so I'll keep this short; but pictures will follow!
It's the end of our second perfect day. After a looooooong but mercifully uneventful trip west (think 24 hours, half of them spent in a remarkably small plane) we fell into the silken marshmallow that serves as our bed and conked out until 8:30 am.
Monday, we had a leisurely (and delicious, and free) breakfast at the hotel restaurant before setting out to see some lovely scenery on our way to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. I've been to the Museum before, but never get tired of it. It's more a zoo/nature park than your typical indoor "museum", and we saw demonstrations with venomous reptiles and with gracefully free-flying hawks as we wandered the extensive and lovingly-maintained grounds. A quick lunch in the museum cafe, a stop at the grocery store for some essentials to stock our hotel fridge, and we were already turning in again for some well-needed rest.
Today, Tuesday, we woke up incredibly early thanks to still being on Germany time, and again enjoyed our breakfast in the bright sunshine. Then it was off to poke around Sports Authority (didn't find anything, but we can't resist sports/outdoor stores), make some unique discoveries at a few artisan shops downtown (lots of southwesterly gifts to take back home!), stop off at Rum Runner to assemble a nice sampler of American brews (and pick up more gifts), catch a coffee at Bentley's, visit my much-missed Tiny House from the outside, and then swing by the University to pick up Tina. And that all before twelve!
From there, we drove through the bright sunshine down to the Titan II Missile Museum, a former-nuclear-missle-silo-turned-historic-site in Saguarita, AZ. The tour was led by a former crew member, who had personal anecdotes and detailed information to share about life in a missile silo. He selected Tina as his "control commander" and she got to demonstrate how one could have turned the key to initiate mutual nuclear annihilation. Jesus. They make a point of stressing how the existence of such weapons during the Cold War was a necessary part of the military's policy of "peace through deterrence": in other words, if anyone pulls the trigger, nobody wins. Still, it was pretty chilling.
So after ogling some weapons of mass destruction, we drove just a bit down the highway back toward Tucson and arrived at the old Spanish mission, San Xavier del Bac. They've finished restoration on the west side of the two-hundred-year-old building, and it looks beautiful; inside, an organist was practicing for Mass. Quite nice. We took some pictures just before the sun went down and then finished up the day at El Charro, the oldest Mexican restaurant in Tucson.
Well! Sorry for the rather dry report, but I am bushed! Hopefully after we adapt a bit more to the time change, I'll have some creative juice still left at the end of the day for a more entertaining recounting... until then, just wanted to say that the trip has been perfect and beautiful so far. Tomorrow, we're off to view the sister attraction to the Titan site, the Pima Air and Space Museum.
In the meantime there's a silken marshmallow of a bed waiting for me... mm, fluffy on the outside, tall handsome sleepy German on the inside... Nachty-Nacht everyone!
Monday, November 24, 2008
Snow!
Gotta get to my next meeting, but just wanted to announce that there is snow in the Pfalz! It makes everything feel like a holiday. Quite atypical for this area, too -- it must be trying to impress my Mom to get her to stay for a while.
C'mon, pretty fluffy flakes, do your stuff!
C'mon, pretty fluffy flakes, do your stuff!
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Happy Birthday Chloe!!!
Zum Geburtstag viel Glück!
Zum Geburtstag viel Glück!
Zum Geburtstag, liebe Chloe –
("For your birthday, lots of happiness!")
My little sister is nine today. Did you know the date of her birthday -- 11/19/1999 -- was the last date for the next thousand years which has all odd digits? Michael pointed that out (the smartie).
A special birthdate for a special girl. I hope you have a wonderful day!!!
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Late 2008
Wow, these last few weeks have been so busy that finding the time to blog has become quite a luxury!
In fact, this whole year's been a bit... full. All of it necessary and exciting; but at some point you start to feel a little frayed around the edges and would welcome the chance to get bored. It's kind of like running on a barrel: we've stayed more or less on top, but if we were ever to stop running, we'd get squished.
Let's see.
- In January, I got back from the States and struggled to settle body and emotions back in Germany while simultaneously beginning the daunting, all-consuming, unpredictable process of getting a business off the ground.
- Despite working my ass off for six weeks, I didn't get my first pay until the end of February. Man, that was a rough time. Thank you, Bert, for making it financially possible.
- Finally, I had a semblance of a routine -- for about three weeks before hopping back on a plane to Wisconsin until April 1st.
- I've noticed that as the trips add up, every back-and-forth across the ocean gets increasingly strenuous. It takes me longer and longer -- up to a week -- to get back to normal after the return. So I'd more or less been "normal" for, again, just about three weeks before I got the Tuesday phone call that my Mom was having surgery on May 1st to remove a possibly cancerous growth. On Thursday, I was on a plane to Pittsburgh. That trip was anything but easy; but there's no way in hell I would have done anything else.
- By mid-May, I was again back to normal... for, again, about three weeks. Then was, in quick succession: Mom's visit; Paris; moving to a new place; a tsunami of work I'd never done before (including that four-hour lecture that had to be prepared from scratch); Nigel's visit; Heidi & Jens' visit --
- And suddenly it was July 10th and I was saying goodbye -- again -- to Bert to fly to Seattle.
- Seattle and Green Bay were lovely.
- I got back at the beginning of August. Three weeks later (starting to see a pattern?) we flew with Shauna and Steve to Greece for the wedding. Thank you, Shauna!
- September: sudden desert in work. I was between contracts at the Fachhochschule, and many of my BASF groups were in the middle of their yearly turnaround and had little time for our normal meetings. Uh oh... that spells trouble for the October paycheck. (See, how I get paid is, I teach for a month; at the end of that month, I add up the total lessons given to each company and send them a bill. It takes about three weeks for that bill to process and the money to clear my bank account. This means that, essentially, any work I do in September, I see payment for on October 21st. That's why January and February were so financially difficult, too -- I can work for seven weeks before seeing a cent in return!) Much of September was spent eating rice and preparing for my Mom's arrival in Germany. There were offices to call, customs to clear, rooms to arrange, cat food to buy...
- Until Mom finally arrived on October 3rd! That first weekend we spent ransoming the cat from the customs office and settling Mom into our guest room. (Hooray for the new apartment! We'd had little chance to settle into it ourselves -- we still had boxes as our decorating theme -- but it was functional)
- The next weekend, Berti turned 30. It was fun, but required a bit of planning... I arranged a Friday-to-Saturday trip and then his mom's surprise visit from Saturday to Sunday night.
- Two weekends later, we had the Big Birthday Bash in Bad Duerkheim. I surprised Bert by having all his friends -- including those from out of town, for whom accommodations and reservations had to be made -- meet us there. About 25 people were wrangled through a "hike" through the area and then to dinner at the Riesenfass. To tell the truth, it was fun, but since all of it had been planned and arranged and organized by yours truly, being responsible for 25 people doesn't quite let you sit back and relax... at least the birthday boy got nice and plastered and almost got us kicked out of the restaurant!
- Meanwhile, there's been a lot to do in getting Mom set up to live and work in Germany. She needs an apartment; health insurance; a visa; a train pass; to get registered in Mannheim (Germans do that -- you "register" your residence in every town where you have an address); an application for school; a van to pick up the boxes shipped to Frankfurt... and most of this is stuff that needs to be done during the weekday, when offices like this are open.
- Which has been no easy task, because did I mention that since October work got CRAZY?? My eight BASF courses started up again in full and I've completely taken over the Master's class at the FH. It should be 3 hours every Monday morning, but since I'll be gone (again) for most of December, we have to catch up a bit by meeting for a few Fridays, too. Oh, and just before Halloween I ran a week-long seminar (4 hours a day) on teambuilding. That was no small task.
- So October and the beginning of November were more or less full sprint on top of that barrel. I was really looking forward to my birthday, on November 10th. It was a Monday, and I made a point to take that day off so that Bert & I could have a three-day weekend and maybe get away for once. Maybe actually (gasp!) see each other, and -- don't say this too loud, the gods will hear! -- relax.
- Hahahahaha! A good one! Yeah, because on November 7th, I got some kind of stomach bug that kept me couch-bound for three days. Including my birthday. Nice and ironic, since I'd been saying just prior to this that I could use a weekend of doing nothing. But I didn't mean on my birthday! Those gods have a sense of humor.
I tried to be a grownup about it. Worse things happen. Bert heroically changed our plans last minute and cleaned up the house so some friends could come by; and I didn't want to show too much disappointment for fear of making him think he'd failed in some way. But, well, to be honest... it was mightily depressing.
I don't usually make much of an event out of my birthday. I like to have a party, but I'll usually go to work/school on my bday and it's not a big deal. But this year was different. This year, Bert and I were going to get away. And what's more... this year, it was going to be my day. I have to admit that I've spent much of this year feeling quite responsible for those around me. The travel, the work, the obligations were all part of taking care of my students, my friends, my family, and my boyfriend... and while of course I do it gladly, I was really looking forward to one special day that was supposed to be mine. A day when no one needed anything from me. When I could get out of Ludwigshafen and wander through the autumn woods and finish with a wine tasting and a cozy room at a Ferienwohnung somewhere with my boyfriend, who I've sort of been missing these last 11 months (!).
Instead, I spent the day not feeling bad enough to lie in bed but not recovered enough to leave the house, while Bert frantically cleaned up the apartment around me and set out some snacks for potential last-minute visitors. Then he and Mom and I sat around the kitchen table and hung out. Nadja came by after work, which was sweet of her. She had a glass of wine, and then she went home. A couple hours later, Mirjam & Benjamin came by and brought me flowers, and that was nice. Then we went to bed.
The next day, I felt well enough to start the week's work.
Sigh.
I should mention that lots of people called to wish me a happy birthday, which was really sweet. It's always touching to realize how many people like you enough to remember you on your birthday. But, well, the whole problem was that the day itself didn't feel special at all -- it could have been any other weekend day, except that I gave up about 200 Euros to take the day off from work (!); which made all the nice phone calls almost a bit painful, especially since many were calling to say, "So I hear you're sick!" I guess it would have been different if I hadn't been so looking forward to it.
But that's water under the bridge, I guess. Two days later, on Wednesday, we tore out our old kitchen and installed the one Bert's parents gave us, because, oh hey, did I mention they've separated? Apparently our lives haven't been eventful enough this year, and so at 30, Bert gets to watch his parents silently move into apartments 300 kilometers apart.
I repeat, though, that not all of this year has necessarily been bad. A lot of it was wonderful -- Greece, for example; Obama's victory, for another! -- but high or low, humans can only take so much eventfulness before you start becoming incapable of dealing with anything at all. God, how do you folks with children do it? I can hardly run my own life!
In the next three weeks, the intensity will, alas, only increase. Every hour is completely packed through December 5th. However! On December 7th, Bert and I make our escape! We're fleeing to Tucson for a week of just us. We got a steal on a fancy resort-style hotel. We'll sleep in; we'll hike Sabino Canyon; we'll eat Mexican food. He'll see the U of A and meet some of my friends. Then we'll rent a car and explore Northern Arizona before heading over to my Gramma in Colorado for a snowy Rocky Mountain Christmas. Skiing, family, and Gluehwein... then we fly to Green Bay for New Year's with Dad and Sarah and the girls.
I cannot wait. What a perfect way to ring out 2008!
In fact, this whole year's been a bit... full. All of it necessary and exciting; but at some point you start to feel a little frayed around the edges and would welcome the chance to get bored. It's kind of like running on a barrel: we've stayed more or less on top, but if we were ever to stop running, we'd get squished.
Let's see.
- In January, I got back from the States and struggled to settle body and emotions back in Germany while simultaneously beginning the daunting, all-consuming, unpredictable process of getting a business off the ground.
- Despite working my ass off for six weeks, I didn't get my first pay until the end of February. Man, that was a rough time. Thank you, Bert, for making it financially possible.
- Finally, I had a semblance of a routine -- for about three weeks before hopping back on a plane to Wisconsin until April 1st.
- I've noticed that as the trips add up, every back-and-forth across the ocean gets increasingly strenuous. It takes me longer and longer -- up to a week -- to get back to normal after the return. So I'd more or less been "normal" for, again, just about three weeks before I got the Tuesday phone call that my Mom was having surgery on May 1st to remove a possibly cancerous growth. On Thursday, I was on a plane to Pittsburgh. That trip was anything but easy; but there's no way in hell I would have done anything else.
- By mid-May, I was again back to normal... for, again, about three weeks. Then was, in quick succession: Mom's visit; Paris; moving to a new place; a tsunami of work I'd never done before (including that four-hour lecture that had to be prepared from scratch); Nigel's visit; Heidi & Jens' visit --
- And suddenly it was July 10th and I was saying goodbye -- again -- to Bert to fly to Seattle.
- Seattle and Green Bay were lovely.
- I got back at the beginning of August. Three weeks later (starting to see a pattern?) we flew with Shauna and Steve to Greece for the wedding. Thank you, Shauna!
- September: sudden desert in work. I was between contracts at the Fachhochschule, and many of my BASF groups were in the middle of their yearly turnaround and had little time for our normal meetings. Uh oh... that spells trouble for the October paycheck. (See, how I get paid is, I teach for a month; at the end of that month, I add up the total lessons given to each company and send them a bill. It takes about three weeks for that bill to process and the money to clear my bank account. This means that, essentially, any work I do in September, I see payment for on October 21st. That's why January and February were so financially difficult, too -- I can work for seven weeks before seeing a cent in return!) Much of September was spent eating rice and preparing for my Mom's arrival in Germany. There were offices to call, customs to clear, rooms to arrange, cat food to buy...
- Until Mom finally arrived on October 3rd! That first weekend we spent ransoming the cat from the customs office and settling Mom into our guest room. (Hooray for the new apartment! We'd had little chance to settle into it ourselves -- we still had boxes as our decorating theme -- but it was functional)
- The next weekend, Berti turned 30. It was fun, but required a bit of planning... I arranged a Friday-to-Saturday trip and then his mom's surprise visit from Saturday to Sunday night.
- Two weekends later, we had the Big Birthday Bash in Bad Duerkheim. I surprised Bert by having all his friends -- including those from out of town, for whom accommodations and reservations had to be made -- meet us there. About 25 people were wrangled through a "hike" through the area and then to dinner at the Riesenfass. To tell the truth, it was fun, but since all of it had been planned and arranged and organized by yours truly, being responsible for 25 people doesn't quite let you sit back and relax... at least the birthday boy got nice and plastered and almost got us kicked out of the restaurant!
- Meanwhile, there's been a lot to do in getting Mom set up to live and work in Germany. She needs an apartment; health insurance; a visa; a train pass; to get registered in Mannheim (Germans do that -- you "register" your residence in every town where you have an address); an application for school; a van to pick up the boxes shipped to Frankfurt... and most of this is stuff that needs to be done during the weekday, when offices like this are open.
- Which has been no easy task, because did I mention that since October work got CRAZY?? My eight BASF courses started up again in full and I've completely taken over the Master's class at the FH. It should be 3 hours every Monday morning, but since I'll be gone (again) for most of December, we have to catch up a bit by meeting for a few Fridays, too. Oh, and just before Halloween I ran a week-long seminar (4 hours a day) on teambuilding. That was no small task.
- So October and the beginning of November were more or less full sprint on top of that barrel. I was really looking forward to my birthday, on November 10th. It was a Monday, and I made a point to take that day off so that Bert & I could have a three-day weekend and maybe get away for once. Maybe actually (gasp!) see each other, and -- don't say this too loud, the gods will hear! -- relax.
- Hahahahaha! A good one! Yeah, because on November 7th, I got some kind of stomach bug that kept me couch-bound for three days. Including my birthday. Nice and ironic, since I'd been saying just prior to this that I could use a weekend of doing nothing. But I didn't mean on my birthday! Those gods have a sense of humor.
I tried to be a grownup about it. Worse things happen. Bert heroically changed our plans last minute and cleaned up the house so some friends could come by; and I didn't want to show too much disappointment for fear of making him think he'd failed in some way. But, well, to be honest... it was mightily depressing.
I don't usually make much of an event out of my birthday. I like to have a party, but I'll usually go to work/school on my bday and it's not a big deal. But this year was different. This year, Bert and I were going to get away. And what's more... this year, it was going to be my day. I have to admit that I've spent much of this year feeling quite responsible for those around me. The travel, the work, the obligations were all part of taking care of my students, my friends, my family, and my boyfriend... and while of course I do it gladly, I was really looking forward to one special day that was supposed to be mine. A day when no one needed anything from me. When I could get out of Ludwigshafen and wander through the autumn woods and finish with a wine tasting and a cozy room at a Ferienwohnung somewhere with my boyfriend, who I've sort of been missing these last 11 months (!).
Instead, I spent the day not feeling bad enough to lie in bed but not recovered enough to leave the house, while Bert frantically cleaned up the apartment around me and set out some snacks for potential last-minute visitors. Then he and Mom and I sat around the kitchen table and hung out. Nadja came by after work, which was sweet of her. She had a glass of wine, and then she went home. A couple hours later, Mirjam & Benjamin came by and brought me flowers, and that was nice. Then we went to bed.
The next day, I felt well enough to start the week's work.
Sigh.
I should mention that lots of people called to wish me a happy birthday, which was really sweet. It's always touching to realize how many people like you enough to remember you on your birthday. But, well, the whole problem was that the day itself didn't feel special at all -- it could have been any other weekend day, except that I gave up about 200 Euros to take the day off from work (!); which made all the nice phone calls almost a bit painful, especially since many were calling to say, "So I hear you're sick!" I guess it would have been different if I hadn't been so looking forward to it.
But that's water under the bridge, I guess. Two days later, on Wednesday, we tore out our old kitchen and installed the one Bert's parents gave us, because, oh hey, did I mention they've separated? Apparently our lives haven't been eventful enough this year, and so at 30, Bert gets to watch his parents silently move into apartments 300 kilometers apart.
I repeat, though, that not all of this year has necessarily been bad. A lot of it was wonderful -- Greece, for example; Obama's victory, for another! -- but high or low, humans can only take so much eventfulness before you start becoming incapable of dealing with anything at all. God, how do you folks with children do it? I can hardly run my own life!
In the next three weeks, the intensity will, alas, only increase. Every hour is completely packed through December 5th. However! On December 7th, Bert and I make our escape! We're fleeing to Tucson for a week of just us. We got a steal on a fancy resort-style hotel. We'll sleep in; we'll hike Sabino Canyon; we'll eat Mexican food. He'll see the U of A and meet some of my friends. Then we'll rent a car and explore Northern Arizona before heading over to my Gramma in Colorado for a snowy Rocky Mountain Christmas. Skiing, family, and Gluehwein... then we fly to Green Bay for New Year's with Dad and Sarah and the girls.
I cannot wait. What a perfect way to ring out 2008!
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