Weihnachtszeit, Weihnachtszeit...

Merry Christmas to you and yours, lovelies. Hope Santa was good to you all and that you got to spend some quality time with your loved ones. I cooked up a storm and will detail the menu for you when I get back from our trip to the Czech Republic. The Germans have a practical name for the mountains we're going to visit, they call them the "Riesengebirge". In Czech, they're called "Karkonosze"--except with a few less vowels. I'm hoping for snow, since the temperatures here aren't really Christmas-y. I'm not expecting to have internet in our lovely village hamlet, so I'll update when I get back. Hopefully.

Have a great and healthy New Year, folks. Drive safe, take care of each other.

What A Difference 3 Days Make...

I know it's not Christmas yet. 

I'm not entirely sure whether or not I've got the Christmas Feeling yet.

It is December 23rd, though. I've been on vacation officially since Monday and it's been fantastic. I was getting burnt out as hell and just generally quite sick and tired of all the horseshit flying all over the place at work. I don't know if I've mentioned it, but I've got a lot of different things on my plate at the moment, job-wise. My life does not unfortunately consist solely of throwing lovely dinner parties. On occasion, I really wish it did. Between work at the KiTa and school, I get my 40 hours/week. Add the various team meetings, planning sessions or parents meetings and we get another extra ten hours/month, give or take. I teach one adult ed class/week (2 1/2 hrs), have the banker once a week (1 1/2 hrs) and the psychiatric practice every other week(ca 2 hrs). The aforementioned gigs require quite a bit of prep work, which of course happens on weekends and after hours. 

Someone else can do the math, but suffice it to say, I've been busy. Which makes me appreciate two weeks where I've been able to clear my schedule completely of the aforementioned committments all the more. Even the weekends take on a different character. Sunday wasn't the first day of my work week this week. Normally I build a fort out of various books, magazines other printed resources and le laptop and plan all my lessons for the week. Vacation is great. 

Thus far, I've had the time to meet up with several of the Lovely Ladies who I've not had time to see for the last few months/weeks respectively. I showed our new french/british intern around my charming hipster neighborhood and entertained at least 3 times for dinner. And once for breakfast. I also drafted a behavioral analysis and organized and wrapped the rest of the christmas presents. And I've slept in. 

On the docket for today is a bath for the madame, a shopping list for the christmas eve viva italia dinner and perhaps my second behavioral analysis. There's a planning session set for 2pm for our trip to the Karkonosze Mountains on the Czech/German/Polish border. We're going with two other couples, which has not served to make the planning any easier. I'm a lone wolf when it comes to travelling. I do not like making compromises. When I'm someplace I've worked hard to be able to visit or perhaps have always dreamt of visiting, I want to do what I want to do and my companions can take it or leave it. This isn't really one of those instances--I have not always dreamt of visiting the Karkonosze but I do have a pretty clear idea of how my side of this vacation is going to go down. I will make minimal compromises, but god help the asshat that wakes me because breakfast is ready. I.WON'T.CARE. I'm paying money to squirrel myself away in a little snowy house in the mountains to relax, do a bit of skiing, appreciate real winter and snow, but mostly to relax. I do not anticipate further trips of this nature. Although Stephan and I are pretty equally strong-willed in most other things, when it comes to travel, he usually lets me run the show...I think because even he has to realize that I've got a damn sight more experience than he does. 

Anyway, enough ranting. I know it sounds ridiculously egoistic. And kind of negative. But I do think/hope it's going to wind up being a good time, as long as they don't get too german (read: retentive) about cashmoney, food, etc. I mean...we're friends in real life. We should be able to manage a week's vacation. I'll keep y'all posted, but it's bathtime on the farm. If I don't get a chance, I wish you all wonderful holdiays and safe travels with people you love.

Be safe and know that I'm thinking of you!

stressstressstressstress

Oh me, oh my...time does fly!

I was shocked to find out that November had finally come to a close. I felt like it was a big secret that I just wasn't in on. I also felt terribly unprepared for December and the holiday season. In the last few weeks, however...I feel like I've managed to get things under control. I mailed the last package yesterday along with the last christmas card. Now there's a bit of last minute shopping to do for people here, some research to do for school things and a few work parties to attend and I'll be on vacation. Thank heavens and not a moment too soon. 

Yesterday was our second advent dinner party--we cooked up a duck (I thought it was going to be goose, but I thought wrong), baked some cookies and decorated the christmas tree, which was pretty cool. It's a bit minimalistic, but all things considered, I think it turned out well. I also learned a lesson...Stephans aesthetic perfectionism doesn't make halt before the holidays. He initially came home without a tree. His reason: they were all ugly, and the ones that weren't ugly were expensive. I told him that under no circumstances would Christmas be celebrated in this apartment without a christmas tree, ugly or not, and that I would be extremely pleased if we could get it up and decorated this weekend. Stephan, being as he his, went out and came back with what I must say might be the prettiest, fullest, greenest christmas tree I've ever seen. I didn't ask any further questions. I also busted out the double cd set of christmas classics--you know, the old Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Louis Armstrong schtick and tortured my guests with forced christmas cheer. I got a little fascist-dictator-y and made them turn off the sound on the wii so we could enjoy the atmosphere. : D I don't think anyone really minded. Besides, the duck, the various kraut side dishes, the garlic dumplings, the baked apples and cookies were delicious enough to make up for any of my culinary/atmospheric tyrrany. I hope. 

Now, after an evening full of much too much red wine, I'm having great difficulty concentrating on my lesson planning/catchup work for school. So I'm listening to HSE, posting to you all and waiting for Robert, a friend of mine, who allegedly needs some nutmeg, to come by and pick it up so that I can go take a bath. Now that's a Sunday. 

F'hain Thanksgiving Extravaganza

I'm going on a posting binge to make it up to those who care, but I had to separate these two posts. Thanksgiving in the F'hain grew out of a resolve from last year. Thanksgiving is the hardest holiday to spend outside of the states. My sister was so funny...I told her that on the phone and she was like "Why?! It's not like you miss anything here. Really." I'm sure it has a lot to do with expat-romanticism...the things we don't have, we tend to redschön. Thanksgiving has definitely become more important to me since I've taught it in a thousand lessons and explained it's history to tons of curious Germans. Last year was hard because we didn't celebrate, so I resolved to do it up this year in style, and Stephan had not choice but to go along for the ride. 

It was pretty cool if I do say so myself.

The battle plan was as follows...we had a team of  approximately 16 "guests" (if you can call them that while still expecting them to work for their dinner) who were then divided into three smaller groups who were then assigned to one of the three kitchens. The grou

ps were deliberately mixed so that people were with people they didn't know, and everyone had authentic recipes and ingredients distributed amongst them. They were then sent to said kitchens and told to produce said items. 

There were some stressful moments where I had something close to boiling over/burning on on the stove and was taking a phone call from Stephan complaining that they had too many sweet potatoes and what should they do about it, while desperately waiting for a refill on my wine glass...but it worked. My team was fantastic, we were done with our stuff in a jiff and could get to work on the decorations/beverage consumption/serious relaxation. 

I think all told, everything was ready and we sat down to eat shortly before seven pm. The cooking had started effectively at one. The last guest left at two am. It was a scene of mass carnage and destruction but everyone went home extremely full and at least a little tipsy if not roaring drunk. 

What amazes me is that almost a week later, people still haven't come to claim their chairs or KITCHEN TABLES?!?! How does one live without a kitchen table? Or chairs? I mean, yes one can eat on the couch, but really? I'm glad we live on the top floor...we've just put everything out on the landing in the stairwell. Noone comes up here who's not invited anyway, and there are only four apartments. 

However, if a photo is really worth a thousand words, I'll close with this picture of Vika and Stefan:

Guys, come get your effing table. 

Thanks.

Love,

Mia

So Many Things...

So yeah, for those of you who don't know, I had to give up my dog. It blew. Hard. I'm a crier, as pretty much everyone who knows me even casually can attest to, and I lost it all over the place as it became evident that we were going to have to admit defeat. 

We'd called in the national guard of friends, friends of friends and partners of friends to make things work for about a month, and when my boss dropped the bomb that she hadn't understood me right and that she was against having a dog in the KiLa on a regular basis, our hand was forced. I talked to her about it and I think my problem is that I'm just so damn reasonable. I understood and empathized with her reasons for being against it. I really did. I still cried my eyes out, though. It was heartbreaking. 

I learned so much though--about myself, about Stephan, about our friends...it was bittersweet but I don't regret it at all. We've got a lot of great people around us, and I'm really thankful for that.  

Things I Love About my Dog

1. She smells lovely. Not all doggy and stinky. I'm told it's because she's a puppy and that she'll grow out of it. I hope not.

2. Her fur is incredibly soft. I'm told this too is a puppy thing and equally impermenant.

3. She's cuddly. She likes to fall asleep with body contact. Right now, she's moved in half sleep so she can lay between my back and the couch.

4. She has beautiful brown eyes. I know you're not supposed to stare into dog's eyes because it makes them feel like you're calling them out. I have a hard time not doing it, though.

5. I love how happy she is when I come home. Yes, she sometimes overdoes it, but it's a welcome like no other.

...and I might have to give her up. I'm heartbroken. 

The Story of Lenja

As many of you might now, I now am proud owner/mama of a hungarian vizsla puppy. She's beautiful and soft and cuddly and a whole helluva lot of work. And her name is Lenja. Right now, she's passed out on the couch next to me, probably having nightmares about the dumb-ass husky and owner who got WAYYY too up in her grill on our way home from the vet today and then had the audactiy to ask me, "Did something happen to her that she's so scared?" Innerly, I thought, "No, you moron...it's just that your dog looks like it could eat her for breakfast!" Outwardly, I smiled and explained that she's still awfully young (9 weeks this week) and hasn't had a ton of experience with other dog breeds. 

People.

Anyway, it was a bit of a circus getting her, and actually quite a good story. 

It all starts with us not having a car. We don't, because the public transit in Berlin is so deluxe that you really don't need one. And a few streets down are some coops where the anarchists fighting gentrification tend to get their not-so-friendly fire on with parked cars. And I can't drive here and don't agree with the bureacratic hoo-haa I'd have to go through to change that.

But that's not really the point.

So we don't have a car, but we'd made an appointment to meet a breeder from Mecklenburg-Vorpommern over the weekend. She agreed that if we came by train, she'd pick us up at the station. We were going up to look at the last puppy left of the litter (all the rest were apparently spoken for already) and there were other appointments with other interested families the whole week before we got there. So we took the train up with the general battle plan of only staying for two hours at the most and being back on the train to Berlin by four thirty at the latest. 

Well, all of a sudden it was six. Pm. We'd had lovely apple cake, watched home videos from the last litter, talked for hours with the breeder and her family about the dogs and the breed and their characteristics. We realized what time it was and started to get ready to leave. It took a few minutes, but we were in the car on the way to the station, with the verbal agreement that we were going to come and pick up Lenja in two weeks. Well, we got to the train station and the bars that block the tracks when trains go through had already come down. So we couldn't get across in the car. The woman let us out, sped off and I ask, "Hey honey, is that our train coming?" It was. We were kind of screwed. Standing on the opposite side of the tracks, watching our train roll in. What do I do? I suggest to my dear, law-abiding german boyfriend that we get the hell over those tracks and onto that train. He looks at me like I'm on drugs and says, " We can't do that! It's illegal to cross the tracks!" I don't really care at this point, so I dash over after the train had come to a halt, and Stephan followed. We reach the other side, are getting ready to dive into the first car when the conductor slams his window open and says, "Don't think you're going to be riding  on MY train! You idiots can go take your own lives elsewhere!" 

We were slightly flabbergasted. I hadn't ever previously been directly yelled at by a train conductor. Stephan apparently also had not. We decide to leave the scene of the crime, as the train had already left and the personel in the station still had the authority to fine us for our grevious "crime". We looked at the schedule after furritively wandering around this TINY village for a few minutes, thinking we'd only have to kill an hour, maybe two until the next train came. 

WRONG.

We were not in Kansas anymore. Not in Berlin either, for that matter. That was the last train. At six thirty pm on a Saturday. We were stranded in a tiny, picturesque East-German village without a bank, pay phones, taxis or cafes. The train station was pretty much all they had going for them. We were kind of screwed. 

So we started using all the jokers we could think of: phoning friends, trying to find out when another train would come, whether or not we could get to another station to get said later train and most importantly, how. It finally boiled down to us calling Stephan's mother, whose first words were, "Are you guys drunk? WHERE are you?" She lives in the same province at least. It still took her over an hour to find us...with her GPS. We waited as it got darker and darker in the middle of a village under the lone street light. It was really something out of a very bizarre movie. 

Our idea was that Stephan's Mom drive us to the next major train station where we could possibly catch the last train to Berlin. She arrived with a big grin on her face and said, "Hi guys! You just saved my Saturday night! Wanna come back to my place?" What to do, what to do...your future mother-in-law has just rescued you from a cold, dark East-German village. Can you really say, "Aw, no Angie...we don't really want to hang out with you. We'd much rather go back to Berlin and go out. Can't you please drive us further out of your way so that we can get back?" I couldn't. So we spontaneously headed back to Güstrow to see her new apartment. Just what I always wanted--a surprise slumber party with my mother-in-law without my toothbrush or clean underwear. Awesome!

Of course you also can't wake up at dawn the next morning and say "See you later, alligator, we've got things to do--by the way, thanks for the chow!" We finally wound up in Berlin around 4pm Sunday. 

This probably should have been some kind of sign.

Two weeks later after lots of soul-searching, we were still all about getting her. So we hijacked a visiting friend and her car to spare us the trauma of potentially being marooned in Rastow (the East-German village of my nightmares) again. She was a peach and drove us almost two hours one way (due to faulty GPS) and then back with our precious cargo. 

Which brings us approximately to the present date. I'm getting over my perfectionistic tendencies and my fear of being an inadquate dog-mother, she's eating and listens to most of what we say...and one can fortunately distract her with kibbles hidden in various parts of the kitchen for almost ten whole minutes. We're celebrating the small victories. It's fun but quite demanding and I do understand why every second person we tell asks us "Did you guys really think this over?" She's a little diva and is not happy unless she has the combined semi-constant attention of Stephan, myself and everone else in attendance.

Somehow I think we're going to be just fine.

Sunday Sloth

Fall's arrived pretty definitively. It's Sunday afternoon and I've not done much yet today other than have one of those European breakfasts that starts at like ten thirty and goes until quarter of two. We were joined spontaneously by two friends who are weekend Berliners only for the next six weeks/six months respectively--I have no idea how they do it--I was gone for a month and I missed it like drugs. Plans to hit the laundramat (no washing machine as of yet) and the gym were crushed by said epic breakfast. After all, why work out when you can eat for four hours straight instead? By the time the breakfasting was over, it was time for Lenny to come by and watch Formula 1 (Barichello/Button/Raikkonen)--I'm still pulling for my man Kimi but it's not really looking like he's going to place in the world cup at all. Sniff, sniff.

What's a girl to do? I still have to print out my handouts for my Tuesday course and I could go make copies, but I happen to find gunmetal grey skies incredibly unmotivating. Today is shaping up to be one of those where I don't leave the apartment. Some Sundays are like that...but I am a militant defender of periodic sloth. I have no problem with people randomly showing up for breakfast, as long as they have no problem with me running around in a beater and OSU scrubs & no makeup. And my weeks are busy as hell. 

So sloth it is...

Somehow I find myself looking forward to winter this year. I'm sure this initial anticipation will be replaced by seasonally affective shitiness within a matter of months, but at the moment the concept of cold, dreary weather and sweaters is still novel. Especially since the new couch just got preordered...it's one of those big, fat, flat ones with lots of pillows. It's a leather/tweed mixture, although I hate leather furniture that's not at least 40 years old, the combination works. And it's coming in two weeks! I can't wait to get rid of our nasty-ass IKEA futon. It's so very "first flat after college"--not that there's anything wrong with that--I just feel like it's time for something else. And the damn thing is pretty rank. 

Also on my To Do List for today is to break it to my parents that Stephan and I won't be coming over for Christmas as initially thought/planned. It'd be too much on a variety of different levels, to put it diplomatically. I feel bad, but I know it's the better decision for me. We'll see where Christmas happens this year, since Stephan's Mum is single...maybe we'll get to have it here, which would kind of rock. I think. As long as I get to do most of the cooking. It'd be the first year in ages where Christmas wouldn't involve a 3 hour car ride...although I will miss celebrating up in Mecklenburg in the willage. The novelty of it would probably win out, though.

Hm. Remind me again how Christmas came up? Not my most coherent day. Oh well, enough for now. Hope everyone's well. 

xxxx

Americana Extravaganza Recap

I really shouldn't be doing this. 

The long night of the museums in Berlin was very long for me indeed last night, and I have resolved to go running on all of my 10am start days this week (4 in total)...allll reasons I shouldn'

t be starting this post at 10:30 pm. The third reason just came through the door.

I'll still try, though. And I might even be able to conjure up some photos, despite my technical ineptitude.

 

So. The first stop of the Americana Extravaganza was Liberty International Airport in Newark, NJ. From there, I took one of the most scenic cab rides of my life into the upper east side of Manhattan. The boys had a pretty intense first impression of the USA. According to the laws of jet lag, we threw the luggage into the hotel room and hit the streets. 

My sightseeing tactic consists largely of wandering. This drives certain types of people

 crazy, but Stephan and Max didn't really have a choice, and didn't really seem to mind too much. We stumbled on a great street fest on Broadway with some really fantastic food (and ridiculously colorful handbags of ambiguous legitimacy) and hit up Times Square. It was great. We met up with my girl Abby for dinner and a wander through the city. I was glad we extended another day...it gave us time to walk pretty much the length of

 Manhattan (from our hotel down to the waterfront. We were on 9th street).  

It was interesting...I've been on trips before, but

 either by myself or with other people who more interested in constructing our schedule than I was...so this was the first time I really had to step up and plan things. All things considered, I think it went well. We managed to walk around so much and so far that we slept like the dead.

After NYC and a 12 hour bus ride, we were in

 Maine for two and a half weeks or so. We took a

 great side trip to see Colleen and Eric and their OP and did some serious outlet shopping in New Hamster.

 Maine was relaxing and full of nature...and family. Lots of family. Some bittersweet familial whatnot, some great reconnections...some old friends. All in all, a good mix. My grandfather's memorial service was hard, and I wish I could say it helped me move on, but I'm not really sure it did. I hope it helped some of the

 people who were there. 

The boys built a small-scale croquet course on the back 9 at my parent's place and challenged all comers...I dug through the four corners of my room, we visited friends and grilled a lot. the trip to the coast to eat lobster yielded some great photos. We managed to hit Reid state park on a great day and the boys got wicked sunburns...really wicked sunburns. Which took at least a week to heal. We ran around some with Mike and Jane, which I think gave the boys a chance to see and do some American things we otherwise wouldn't have done (golf, tubing, etc.) --which I think they both greatly enjoyed...even if Max may or may not have chipped a tooth while tubing behind the party boat. 

When we headed out, I think it was time. The trip to DC took all told I think 14 hours and was complicated by the fact that I somehow botched Ashwin's phone number and was calling New York the whole time during the ride down. The guys got to see a good swath of American countryside and a few cities from the interstate. I think they were probably alternately impressed and terrified by my driving "skills"--although to be fair, I don't drive here at all (a situation I should be working to rectify and am mostly ignoring) so I might have been a bit rusty. But we all survived. That's the important thing, right?

DC was amazing. To all of you that hosted us in any way shape or form: You rock. All y'all. It was just a really wonderful week with great people and intense heat and humidity. I'm not sure I could live in DC for a variety of reasons, not the least of which are the tropica

l temperatures. That and, apparently, I dig dive bars. Apparently Berlin is full of them. And in DC, they're kind of hard to find. We managed, though. The Argonaut somewhere near where Julia lives is fantastic. They've got an Allagash beer from Maine! 

Anyway, it's getting late and I'm being reminded of my good intentions for tomorrow morning, so I guess the recap will have to end here and photos will hopefully follow. It's off to bed for the Miachen.

Wish me lots of motivation for tomorrow at 07:30 am...I've got to get started running off all that fabulous American food.

Take care of eachother, kids.

(Ed: Don't ask me what happened to the formatting after I inserted the pictures. I'm one of those people who needs a Kenyon Helpdesk in my real life. The finished product took...two days. Ugh. I'm so techtarded.)

Diet Update (more to come)

Whoah. 

So I haven't even gotten around to posting about my birthday yet. Hm. Well, I suppose it's not that bad, seeing as I was enjoying myself far too thoroughly to take pictures, I have nothing even remotely incriminating to post. Not that there was even anything terribly incriminating going on...I bought myself (as an extra birthday treat...not that I didn't get enough loot) a bottle of the best wine EVER (nieva sauvingon blanc, or something to that effect) and proceeded to drink it by myself while the other 20 people there emptied the hard liquor. I kept offering it to people, but I think everyone just thought it was cheap german wine from Lidl so they all said no. More for me! It was great though--officially the first party I've been at where there wasn't a huge traffic jam in the kitchen. We got clever and  set up the buffet in the living room. Somehow the balcony became the new kitchen and was packed the whole night. It was a testament to all my new neighbors that nobody complained. As is apparently the trend when you get older, the party was decidedly more food-based than booze-based. I think I might be growing up. It was still a blast though. The dynamic was much better than last year--a lot of ways crossed for the first time, a lot of people met and liked eachother...while eating great food and drinking quality beverages. That's what I call a party. 

WHEN WILL THE PARENTS GET THEIR KIDS TO QUIT SCREAMING IN MY COURTYARD?!

I deal with screaming children for a living. I consider myself a professional. As such, I know there comes a point where you stop inflicting the screaming child upon its surroundings. My neighbors seem unaware that this moment has passed and are letting their kid(s) just lose it all over the place and at epic volume levels in my lovely, echo-ey courtyard. I love kids, but I HATE poorly behaved, ill mannered children who know no boundaries. GAH!

Enough of that. 

I'm reaclimating to Germany fairly well this time around. Two years ago when I went it was a lot harder. I cried for weeks. Literally. At the drop of a hat. This time, I've got some stuff to chew on, but mostly it's been nice to get back to a city where I'm the boss (and know how to buy public transit tickets, where to get groceries, don't get multiple parking tickets in one day, etc.)

I kind of want to get into all the fantasticness that I experienced at the hands of my friends in the US at this juncture, but at the same time, I feel like those shenanigans very much merit their own post with lots and lots of pictures. And it's getting close to my appointment with Sani--I should call her. Sometimes she's running wicked late...not sure if I want to walkjog three blocks and get all sticky and sweaty so I can read magazines for an hour. Though she's extremely entertaining, even when you're not getting your hairs trimmed. Decisions!

Bis bald, Kinders!

Failed Photo Uploads, etc...

The last time I posted, I immediately tried to upload photos from my camera and then in turn to das Blog. However...it didn't work. I was supposed to go meet some people (for Tapas at the fantastic Spanish vinoria across the street) and I got frustrated and stopped. Now as it turns out, the photos didn't even make it from my camera to my computer. The question is whether or not my originals got deleted after the so-called upload. Don't know and because Stephan's hidden birthday presents for me in our chest of drawers, I can't go looking for my camera to check. 

Since the move finding things here has been complete trial-and-error. There's something incredibly disorienting about a posse of extremely motivated, hyper-clean German women unpacking and organizing your kitchen. And all the rest of your apartment. Seriously folks, if you ever move, make German friends. They wiped out my cupboards, put away my silverware, my tupperware, my plates...and not a single thing got broken. It was great, especially for a little chaot like me. However, it remains at times, difficult to find certain things. 

Anyhow, last weekend was the kindergarten overnight. Unlike last year, the kids didn't sleep much, which meant that I didn't sleep much. They did seem to be quite impressed though. The kids, that is. After all, that was the aim of the game. However, it became abundantly clear to me that I am in no way ready to be woken at 1:15 am by a screaming child. Everyone I work with tells me it's different when they're yours...but my sleep is sacred. Anyone who's related to, chohabitated or slept with me at one point or another knows that. It also seems to be getting worse as I age. This Friday (aka tomorrow) is the Sommerfest. Kind of an end of the year sort of thing where all the kids and their parents are invited and we've got all kinds of games, etc. This year, Julianita decided she wanted to have the kids perform a short theater piece. It's called the little black sheep. After having gone through somewhere between three and five different black sheep, I think she's regretting it. I for my part am ambivelantly counting down the days until we close for the summer. This means on the one hand four weeks of paid vacation for moi--and no children, but also the epic organizational feat that is the Americana Extravaganza. I get panicky when I think about it. I mean, I can't effing wait to get back to the states and see everyone I've been missing for ever--living abroad consists mostly of balancing your adventure/wanderlust with varying degrees of homesickness and longing. Oftentimes, though, it's more satisfying to long for something than it is to actually have it. I basically just have to cowboy up and start planning some shit and I think once I've actually gotten started, it won't be so bad. 

Anyhow, I'm sure there will be more details on that subject whenever I do manage to get my shit together and start making real plans. In the meantime, I've got a birthday/housewarming party to throw. That's going to be lovely. I hope. We shall see. Hope you all are well, I'm going to contain the chaos in the kitchen leftover from my steamed pangasius in white herb-dijon sauce with carrots and get to bed. Or something. Tomorrow's going to be a long day.

Be safe.

What you missed...

Ach, Kinders...

Sorry about that. The month of March really threw me for a loop and things just kept going from there. The early childhood ed program I'm doing also kicked it up a notch and two of my colleagues had some serious mental and physical health problems (respectively) that kept me doing overtime and away from regular updates. 

But I'm back. I hope to keep y'all amused with some amusing tidbits more regularly from now on. 

So here's a rundown of what all's happened since I last updated. 

March:

-Gramps died. That was a rough one, folks. I haven't lost enough people close to me to be good at grieving yet. I'm still working on it.

-Angie seperated from her partner of almost ten years. Also rough--a real readjustment for all of us--and a lot of crisis management.

-The apartment search was also intensified in March because we realized that we had to be out of the old place by May.

April:

-Found and proceeded to not get a series of lovely apartments.

-Found, almost lost but did in the end sign on a really lovely apartment.

-Packed like a crazy person while working ridiculous overtime for 2 impaired colleagues.

-MOVED IN in a germanically organized move of epic proportions.

-Bought tickets for the Americana Extravaganza (coming to a city near you starting 07.19.09)

May:

-Intensive period of nestling, settling and socializing with all the new kids in the neighborhood.

-Un-packed like a crazy person.

-Enjoyed the obscene number of bank holidays Germany and Western Europe have on offer in May.

June:

-Wrote and handed in an idiotic number of small assignments for school. In German. Which turns a small idiotic assignment into a somewhat larger undertaking.

-Started going through the motions of planning the Birthday/Warming Party 

-Ditto on the Americana Extravaganza

-Got a guilt trip and FINALLY updated my blog.

Sooooooooooo, time for a funny tidbit of the day.

Yesterday, my colleague Julianita (name changed for comedic/germans are discovering facebook purposes) started freaking out because my other colleague Mattholomew apparently has a habit of not being germanically cleanly. It'd be damn hard for him to, seeing as he's Australian. Anyway, Julianita is going on and on about how much it bothers her that he left his shoes laying around, etc. etc. What does she decide to do? 

Hide them. 

Yaaay for adult problem solving skills! 

So this morning, Mattholomew comes to work and looks for his work shoes. Can't find 'em anywhere...which I admit was pretty funny. Everyone kept referring him to Julianita, but he doesn't take the bait and starts walking around in Uggs in June. Julianita can't keep a punchline to herself, so she starts trying to take the piss a bit to cover up for the fact that she well...actually cares. Except you could blatanly tell that she really cared, and it actually wasn't all that funny. Mattholomew was kind of like, 'well, eat me'--for good reason, if you ask me...I mean, she ain't his Mama and it ain't his problem that she has to clean up after her husband and sons at home all the time. I mean...I have to admit, I enjoyed the viewing/free worktime entertainment, but really folks--there are things WORTH getting upset about, and there are things that aren't. 

Moral of the story: Take it easy. This sometimes means taking the easy way out, but you know...it keeps your blood pressure low and keeps you from turning into a semicrazed, shoe hiding Julianita.

Sad News...

http://www.legacy.com/MaineToday-KennebecJournal/Obituaries.asp?Page=LifeStory&PersonID=124935635

...my Grandfather died. He was a hero of mine.

Stress is...

...putting on your underpants wrong side out and not figuring it out for 24 hours.

To laser...or not?

Tagchen...

I'm posting from a remarkably snowy Berlin. It's too warm for anything to stick, but Mother Nature's been doing her best all day long. Things here are going well...Stephan got better, I got my flu shot and haven't been ill since (knock on wood). Valentine's Day was pretty catastrophic...Stephan doesn't believe in celebrating it, which is fine with me...I'm not a fan of the commercialism and of course it's better to take the time to celebrate your relationship and the person you're with ALL year round and not just on one dark winter day

...HOWEVER, sniping at eachother all day is not really a super alternative. Unfortunately, that's what we did. I finally had enough and called a friend and was getting ready to leave, but we wound up talking it out and getting along. That's kind of our thing. We rarely have knock-down, drag-outs...we'll just snipe at eachother until one of us has had enough, then comes the part where we ignore eachother for a few hours, and then one of us has enough of that and makes the move to talk it out. And then we usually do. 

Anyway, we've had a bit of stress lately...because we found a really lovely apartment in the Bänschstr. in the same house as a buddy of Stephan's. It's got just about everything we want...except for a balcony. Which is a bummer, but sometimes one's got to make some compromises. We also finally managed to get all the necessary paperwork in order (pay stubs from the last three months, two credit histories, a document from our management company stating that we don't owe them any money and the application from the new management company)--which was no small feat. Now the only remaining issue is whether or not we'll actually get the apartment. It is certainly possible that they've already said "to hell with these clowns--let's take someone whose paperwork is already complete!" There were a TON of people at the viewing. More than I'd ever seen at a single apartment viewing before. So yeah. Stay tuned...we'll find out either tomorrow or the next day if we've made the cut. It's really almost as stressful as applying for a job or for college. I think that someone who made a business of finding best apartment for people would make a KILLING. Really...I mean, my job isn't that stressful, but I've certainly got enough to do without having to troll the internet for non-divey apartments in our district, making appointments for viewings and that dealing with the mountains of paperwork. I'd be willing to pay money to some sort of headhunters who'd find us the perfect apartment for the perfect price. Sigh.

In other news, I had my first appointment at a german optometrist this week. I had to get an official vision test for my driver's license. While I was at it, I thought perhaps I might replace my two year old contact lenses with something available on the german market. So I found out a lot about my eyes. My newfound optometrist pal told me that I'd be best served staying with my brand if at all possible, because my eyes could have a reaction to a new type of contact lens after all this time. She searched and searched and searched and finally found a distributor of my lenses in Germany...and now they're on order, but before she could order them, she had to measure me, and because I have toric lenses, apparently you can't just take them out and get an accurate measurement. I had to wear my glasses for a whole day, to work...the whole nine yards. My kids found me strange. All day, I had small children creeping up beside me--silently (they're otherwise NEVER silent) and trying to peek behind my glasses--almost as if to make sure my "real" face was still there. And of course the weather was just plain sadistic for someone with glasses--sleet and snow. I wasn't sorry to be able to pop my lenses in the next day. However, this was one of the first times in years that I'd left my house with only my glasses on. I had to surrender them at the optometrist's so she could measure them...and it was terrifying. I really had no idea how blind I'd become. I stood there, watching the fuzzy shapes of cars race by on the six lane road outside and I got so dizzy I had to sit down. Everything was so hazy, so unclear. I felt so helpless. I was happier than I'd ever been to put my glasses back on. The kindly optometrist told me that I have only 60% sight in my right eye with my glasses, so after I get my contacts straightened out, it looks like that's the next thing on my list. Stephan thinks I should get lasered. I've never really thought about it. Not seriously at least...but the best eye clinic in Germany is in Rostock. I'd never really thought about how poorly I really see until I sat there half blind and completely terrified in a strange place. Maybe it's not such a bad idea. I'll get a call within the next week telling me when my trial contacts (42€ per eye, thank you very much!) are in...I can ask the optometrist then what she thinks. 

Right. So, enough news from across the pond...it's time for a chat with the folks. And some water. I hit the elliptical pretty hard after my ab course today...and now dehydration's hitting me. 

Lots of love!

Die Perfekte Welle...

d.h. die perfekte Grippe Welle.

Yes, yes y'all, a vicious wave of influenza is sweeping the northeast of Germany. Guess where it started? Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, of course. Guess where it's at it's worst?...Berlin, natch. So far, I'm taking it like a rock star. The only problem is, Stephan's been lying on the couch looking like death for the last four days. Seriously, folks. I have no experience with fever and other flu-based nastiness. The only thing I'm an expert in is gastrointestinal whatnot, and this has apparently nothing to do with that. The Europeans like to sweat this sort of thing out. You know, ninteenth century style, wrapped in blankets which get soaked in sweat so that you have mountains and mountains of contaminated laundry. Some people like to drink whiskey with some herbs in it, as they maintain it accelerates the sweating-out of the fever. Others prefer the sauna...I prefer meds. I picked up some paracetamol at the pharmacy Friday after things kept getting worse, and unfortunately it didn't help. So I went back Saturday morning and begged the pharmacist to give me something that would actually HELP. She gave me this shit called aspirin complex. I don't mean to get all advertise-y up in here, but it seems to be working, at least half decently. Stephan is able to make jokes and occasionally leaves the couch, which was more than we could claim in the name of progress Thursday, Friday or Saturday. 

The thing is, as much as I love him--he's milking this. I don't say that because I've been drawing him hot eucalyptus baths, buying fresh kiwis and apples at the market and preparing them on little plates, brewing endless pots of sage and fruit teas. Nooo, I'm saying that because NOW...now that he's feeling better, I'm being forced into watching MISSION IMPOSSIBLE THREE on television. Grrrr. It's not only that he's sick, although that's his major point of leverge, but there's nothing else on for which I could even remotely make a case for. Sadly. So I'm blogging in protest. I've found out that's a red flag. 

Anyway, aside from this mini epidemic we've got going on here, I can't really complain. Keep your fingers crossd for me that I don't catch it. Tomorrow is allegedly the last day the symptoms could pop up. I'm not sure how much stock I put in that, but I've got a two week buffer before my adult ed courses start where I could technically be sick. I know these things are inherently unplannable, but I like to exercise what little influence my free will allows. My personal theory is that I was the carrier monkey that brought the pestilence into our environment to begin with. I do get sneezed/coughed/snotted upon on a regular basis. Hopefully that's created a certain level of immunity.  

However, in order to support whatever immunity I may or may not have against this really nasty flu virus, I'm going to sign off for now. Hopefully I'll remain healthy and be able to post again soon. 

Take care, Kinnners, stay healthy and warm!

xoxo

So Kinders...

Enter standard opener here-- (I know, people it's been forever, I'm sorry, I know you have better things to do than follow my blog, etc. etc.)

Anyway, out with the old, in with the new! Welcome to 2009--better late than never and all that. Things here started off well--we rang in the New Year with Lenny, Natta, Stephan and Vica and a few others eating wayyyy too much raclette and watching the ridiculous amounts of civilian fireworks around midnight. We then ventured to an artsy hipster houseparty somewhere near Ostkreuz (me in leather gloves, a woolly hat with a pom-pom and a bottle of Tanqueray and Tonic)--it was freaking freezing. Unfortunately, the cold sobered me up to the point that I had no patience for an overfilled apartment filled with über-hip hipster types wearing mostly black with those heinous plastic-rimmed glasses that are part of this intentional ugliness thing that I'm not sure I'll EVER get. Whew. So we jetted after like, an hour tops, leaving Lenny stuck waiting for Natta, who, as an art therapy major, has some kind of connection to these people. I think we were home around four. The next day was entirely wasted--I think I spent a total of six hours on the couch in some kind of sleepy, half catatonic state, watching skijumping and biathalon with Stephan. 

That's how it was, folks.

And here's how it is...

So the New Year is getting into week 2.5, I've survived my first full week of work/school, I get paid this week...things are good. I've got no new VHS (adult ed) classes to teach until mid February, which is fantastic. I actually have TIME to get a jump start on the New Year's Resolutions I've made (hit the gym more, be less of a whiny nagging bitch in private and less ragingly gluttonous) before things get all stresstastic up in here. I'm at a new gym now, with a new trainer and a new fitness plan that eerily resembles my first one at my old studio, but whatever...a start is a start. My plan is to spend the time that I used to devote to being exhausted and unmotivated on my couch to reattaining my foxy form. I'll let you folks know how I progress. I do have to say though that since I started two weeks ago, it's gotten easier. Beginning is the hardest part? We'll see, I guess. 

In other news, I got my first exam results back on Thursday and I aced the damn thing. I had expected to do moderately well, but the fact that I perfect scored the sunofagun overshot my expectations. It's good to get  positive feedback--apparently my studying methods still work. To be fair, though--it's not like the material is difficult. It hasn't gotten much harder since the last time I posted. School still really blows. I was more excited to go back to work after the Christmas break than back to school. I don't feel in any way challenged--but at the same time, there are people in the class who are hopelessly overwhelmed. It's crappy to think that pretty much no one's needs are being met by this circus. I spent an hour and a half this afternoon putting together a powerpoint presentation about Ben & Jerry's...it's my grade in a class about making presentations. Not like I know anything about that...working as I do in education and all. I try to avoid going if at all possible. I've scheduled a doctor's appointment for Tuesday during a class called "promoting health". It consists entirely of the students presenting on topics for which we won't ever be held accountable. I often ask myself what the point is. 

Enough about that, though. I hope you all rang in the New Year healthy, happily and in style...with any luck, you won't have to wait as long for my next post. Ha ha ;)