So yeah. I'm home on sick leave, again. Apparently I was misdiagnosed the first time by my semi-retired Doc who assumed I guess, that everyone my age has had scarlet fever, otherwise known as Schlarlach. Because it's a normal childhood disease here...or something. And once you've had it, you don't get it again. Am I mistaken, or do American children just not get scarlet fever. Do you know anyone who's ever had it? Parents and Grandparents don't count. My mother is the only person I know who's ever had scarlet freaking fever.
All that aside, I don't feel that bad. I'd been on two different antibiotics by the time the Doc found out what I really had, so at that point, I didn't even have a fever. I'm not really sure I ever did...anyway, the point is, I feel fine and really wretched about putting my boss in a bind. I worked Monday and was fine, then I get the test results from my doctor, who tells me I've been potentially contagious the whole time. Great. So I feel bad about having possibly infected all the kids in the nursery school, but at the same time, I feel like a lazy ass for not working. Well...I am kind of still working. I have my adult ed classes that according to my doctor, I should also not be doing...but if I cancel them, I'd have to make them up at some point, and I don't have time for that. To be honest, it's also a relief to get out of the house for a couple hours a day. Sitting on the couch all day gets old fast.
Anyway, aside from that there's not a whole lot going on. Max's birthday is this weekend, so we're going up to Gross Schwiesow this weekend. I'm hoping I'm 100% by then--I was sick for Max's birthday last year, too. I guess September is just a bad month for me.
So, I hope you all are free of semi-infectious diseases and whatnot. I'm going to get back to my couch and the fourth season of family guy. I'm waiting with baited breath for the seventh season, in the meantime I'm re-watching everything Stephan can find for me on the internet.
Stay healthy!
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Domestic Bliss
It's Saturday. The weather is typically crisp and fall like, and makes me think of the leaves changing colors (they don't really here) and fresh apples. I wound up not being entirely healed from my malignant funk of last week, and barely managed to scrape through the work week this week with a late-afternoon visit to le Doctor on Thursday. She took a little swab of whatever the hell it is that's growing in my throat and sent it in for analysis (I was already liking her by then...this is one of the new Doctors who's taking over the practice of the old East German ladies), so we'll see what that turns out to be. For the interim, I've got new drugs so I'm pretty happy. It keeps the sore throat at a minimum.
At the moment, I'm going through a domestic dervish phase, and decided to bake bread today--which when you're all set up and ready to go in the morning pretty much takes the whole day. I think I got started at like, three pm...so we'll see what time I finish and how it comes out. I used my American measuring cups and my great-grandma's recipe, so I'm betting it's going to be pretty awesome...providing my evil german electric oven doesn't sabotage things. Someone's sitting next to me, drooling puddles already. ;) While the dough was rising and Stephan was playing pool, I got things cleaned up and squared away around here. It doesn't happen often that I get so into cleaning and washing and whatnot, so when I do, I try to take advantage of it. I also know that since my adult ed courses are starting, Stephan's going to get stuck doing a lot of the housework. If everything goes as planned, I'll be working until 9pm four nights a week. I mean, I like my job in the Kindergarten, but it doesn't cover all my expenses...we'll leave it at that. So far, everything's started more or less as planned. There were a few courses in the Lichtenberg annex that are reeeeally small, but fortunately my boss there has my back and is pulling all the strings she can to keep my classes going. I've got a great business intensive going until Halloween with four students--it's nice for once not to be the youngest person in the room by at least ten years.
I really like working with adults in this capacity because you get to learn a ton about all kinds of different professions. For example, in my business intensive course, there's a guy who's studying to become an accountant. He knows all kinds of fascinating things about tax law and what have you. I mean...if you think taxes are boring, you've never tried to file as being self-employed in a foreign country. The German department of Finance called me up the other day and I nearly shit a brick. I'm pretty sure everything's straightened out there, though. Hopefully, won't notice that I didn't turn in the invoices for my tutorial work. I forgot to ask my ex-boss there to send them to me. It's not like it was that much money, anyway...but with the department of finance you never know. Apparently here they can randomly call you up five years from now and ask to see your documents from 2006. You know, if they get bored. Although when I see it written in English like that...it sounds like an audit, just described differently.
In other news, as a part of our renovations-binge of last week, I've now got two new additions to the Tyler-Spindler plant family. Not that I'm one of those people who consider plants my children. I talk to them, but there are limits to my affections. So yeah, we now have an orchid and some gardenias. They smell lovely. And for those of you who were wondering, the yellow in the living room isn't too oppressive and the shelving unit in the bathroom is still standing.
All right, kids. It's time for me to go melt some butter for putting ye olde shine on those bread crusts.
At the moment, I'm going through a domestic dervish phase, and decided to bake bread today--which when you're all set up and ready to go in the morning pretty much takes the whole day. I think I got started at like, three pm...so we'll see what time I finish and how it comes out. I used my American measuring cups and my great-grandma's recipe, so I'm betting it's going to be pretty awesome...providing my evil german electric oven doesn't sabotage things. Someone's sitting next to me, drooling puddles already. ;) While the dough was rising and Stephan was playing pool, I got things cleaned up and squared away around here. It doesn't happen often that I get so into cleaning and washing and whatnot, so when I do, I try to take advantage of it. I also know that since my adult ed courses are starting, Stephan's going to get stuck doing a lot of the housework. If everything goes as planned, I'll be working until 9pm four nights a week. I mean, I like my job in the Kindergarten, but it doesn't cover all my expenses...we'll leave it at that. So far, everything's started more or less as planned. There were a few courses in the Lichtenberg annex that are reeeeally small, but fortunately my boss there has my back and is pulling all the strings she can to keep my classes going. I've got a great business intensive going until Halloween with four students--it's nice for once not to be the youngest person in the room by at least ten years.
I really like working with adults in this capacity because you get to learn a ton about all kinds of different professions. For example, in my business intensive course, there's a guy who's studying to become an accountant. He knows all kinds of fascinating things about tax law and what have you. I mean...if you think taxes are boring, you've never tried to file as being self-employed in a foreign country. The German department of Finance called me up the other day and I nearly shit a brick. I'm pretty sure everything's straightened out there, though. Hopefully, won't notice that I didn't turn in the invoices for my tutorial work. I forgot to ask my ex-boss there to send them to me. It's not like it was that much money, anyway...but with the department of finance you never know. Apparently here they can randomly call you up five years from now and ask to see your documents from 2006. You know, if they get bored. Although when I see it written in English like that...it sounds like an audit, just described differently.
In other news, as a part of our renovations-binge of last week, I've now got two new additions to the Tyler-Spindler plant family. Not that I'm one of those people who consider plants my children. I talk to them, but there are limits to my affections. So yeah, we now have an orchid and some gardenias. They smell lovely. And for those of you who were wondering, the yellow in the living room isn't too oppressive and the shelving unit in the bathroom is still standing.
All right, kids. It's time for me to go melt some butter for putting ye olde shine on those bread crusts.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Sick Leave
Mannn is it cool to have a real job. Or at least, a sort-of real job with at least marginal benefits. As it happens, I'm sick with what zee Gehrmannz call "angina" (not anGInah as we'd say it, but anGEENa)--which apparently can be anything from a sore throat to strep. Whatever I have, it's been treated now by antibiotics I got free of charge from the pharmacy, and my next visit to the doctor (actually, all subsequent ones for the next quarter) will be free! It's just wonderful to be able to really rest and concentrate on getting better, as opposed to having to worry if I have enough money to pay the bill. My boss was really cool about everything, too. I called her yesterday to let her know I wouldn't be coming in, and she was just like "yeah, let me know when you're feeling better." Good stuff. That was the upshot of yesterday. The rest of the day I spent passed out on my couch. Quite literally. It seems to have done quite a lot of good, though. I'm feeling much better today. It's a lot easier to swallow and I've got quite a bit more energy. Es lebe antibiotiker. As long as my light itchy-ness doesn't turn into full-blown hives from the meds, I'll be a happy camper. My doc (not the same one as last time, sadly. The old biddies are retiring.) noted that I'm allergic to amoxicillin and penicillin, but proceeded to prescribe me another antibiotic that's apparently almost as bad. Literally, in the little notes in the package, it says 'if you're allergic to penicillin, it's highly likely that you'll react to this drug as well'. Oh boy.
Right now, it's not that bad. Stephan, with classic East German logic believes that if I don't think about it, I won't have any sort of reaction. I try to ignore this, since he's been really sweet and caring since I got sick. He brought home fresh fruit by the bushel, fresh squeezed strawberry-orange juice and this special "winter-bath" with eucalyptus. Now under the best of circumstances, I'm not a huge eucalyptus fan. However, after putting off using the bath crystals for a full 48 hours, the situation was getting pretty critical. I will tell you--eucalyptus in this concentration smells like cat pee. It also turned the water green. I of course drew the water too hot and got ridiculously dehydrated and dizzy, and proceeded to pass out on the couch smelling like cat pee. It was awesome. In the meantime, I've got the cat pee situation under control, but I won't be bathing in or inhaling any eucalyptus any time soon. Chamomile is much more up my alley.
Despite being relieved at the possibility, I'm actually a little bit bummed out not to be able to go to work. This is a pretty good sign of job satisfaction, I guess. I mean, the kids had just started to really get used to me, and I was right in the middle of finally starting to build up a rapport with some of the four year olds (they're a tricky demographic, I'll tell you), and now I'm afraid that after the week, they'll have forgotten all about me and I'll have to start from scratch again. It's a lot easier to change a kid's diaper if they're not fighting you off because they don't know you. It's not that bad, though, since it's been raining pretty much straight since yesterday and anyone who's ever had to take care of little kids knows they go crazy when it rains for days at a time and they can't play outside. I'm glad my boss feels the same ways about kids and fresh air as I do--I mean, yes, these are city kids and their exposure to "nature" is relatively low, but playing outside is just plain healthy. Not to mention tiring for the little scamps. Provided I'm feeling better, I'm going to be pretty excite to get back to work next week.
In other news, I just started readying a pretty fascinating book on Al Qaida by a German author. To be honest, I'd kind of been putting off starting it, because I thought it would be dry and dull, but it's actually riveting. I had no idea that the first attack on the world trade center by Islamic militants actually happened in 1993. I mean, where was I?! Probably in Mrs. Lavallee's second grade class...or perhaps Mrs. Ellis's third grade class, and presumably not at all interested in such things. Anyhow, it's a very well written account of the different attacks; planned attacks, attempted attacks, etc. Very factual without becoming dry or textbook-y. I doubt it's been translated though, since the English-speaking world has no shortage of written material on Islamic extremists and Al Qaida in particular. I've also been re-reading Russendisko by Wladimir Kaminer--I'd lent it to Julia about a year ago and forgotten all about it. There are some hilarious short stories there. What I SHOULD be doing, however, is preparing myself for my adult ed courses at the Volkshochschule that are starting (well, some of them) next week. Apparently, I'm supposed to have a new textbook. I realized this while checking online to see how many people had signed up for my courses. I do wish my myriad of bosses would keep me better informed sometimes. It'd make a lot of things easier.
Oh well. Hopefully they'll reply promptly to my inquisitive emails, and I can get on with my next herbal tea infusion.
Stay healthy, kids.
Right now, it's not that bad. Stephan, with classic East German logic believes that if I don't think about it, I won't have any sort of reaction. I try to ignore this, since he's been really sweet and caring since I got sick. He brought home fresh fruit by the bushel, fresh squeezed strawberry-orange juice and this special "winter-bath" with eucalyptus. Now under the best of circumstances, I'm not a huge eucalyptus fan. However, after putting off using the bath crystals for a full 48 hours, the situation was getting pretty critical. I will tell you--eucalyptus in this concentration smells like cat pee. It also turned the water green. I of course drew the water too hot and got ridiculously dehydrated and dizzy, and proceeded to pass out on the couch smelling like cat pee. It was awesome. In the meantime, I've got the cat pee situation under control, but I won't be bathing in or inhaling any eucalyptus any time soon. Chamomile is much more up my alley.
Despite being relieved at the possibility, I'm actually a little bit bummed out not to be able to go to work. This is a pretty good sign of job satisfaction, I guess. I mean, the kids had just started to really get used to me, and I was right in the middle of finally starting to build up a rapport with some of the four year olds (they're a tricky demographic, I'll tell you), and now I'm afraid that after the week, they'll have forgotten all about me and I'll have to start from scratch again. It's a lot easier to change a kid's diaper if they're not fighting you off because they don't know you. It's not that bad, though, since it's been raining pretty much straight since yesterday and anyone who's ever had to take care of little kids knows they go crazy when it rains for days at a time and they can't play outside. I'm glad my boss feels the same ways about kids and fresh air as I do--I mean, yes, these are city kids and their exposure to "nature" is relatively low, but playing outside is just plain healthy. Not to mention tiring for the little scamps. Provided I'm feeling better, I'm going to be pretty excite to get back to work next week.
In other news, I just started readying a pretty fascinating book on Al Qaida by a German author. To be honest, I'd kind of been putting off starting it, because I thought it would be dry and dull, but it's actually riveting. I had no idea that the first attack on the world trade center by Islamic militants actually happened in 1993. I mean, where was I?! Probably in Mrs. Lavallee's second grade class...or perhaps Mrs. Ellis's third grade class, and presumably not at all interested in such things. Anyhow, it's a very well written account of the different attacks; planned attacks, attempted attacks, etc. Very factual without becoming dry or textbook-y. I doubt it's been translated though, since the English-speaking world has no shortage of written material on Islamic extremists and Al Qaida in particular. I've also been re-reading Russendisko by Wladimir Kaminer--I'd lent it to Julia about a year ago and forgotten all about it. There are some hilarious short stories there. What I SHOULD be doing, however, is preparing myself for my adult ed courses at the Volkshochschule that are starting (well, some of them) next week. Apparently, I'm supposed to have a new textbook. I realized this while checking online to see how many people had signed up for my courses. I do wish my myriad of bosses would keep me better informed sometimes. It'd make a lot of things easier.
Oh well. Hopefully they'll reply promptly to my inquisitive emails, and I can get on with my next herbal tea infusion.
Stay healthy, kids.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Of firearms, tantrums and small children.
G'day, all!
Things in Berlin's fabulous capitol are poking along. But in a nice sort of way, I suppose. I think I've gotten over my pretty rocky re-adjustment phase (it's always such a pisser grappling with the truth of that age-old maxim "wherever you go, there you are."), and I got to spend a lovely weekend with Stephan's family up in the M-V. I rediscovered my healthy American love of playing with firearms--I'm not bad, really. Beat the pants off my European boyfriend, that's for sure. He spent the next day practicing. I had to laugh.
My second week of work is going well--most of the kids have adjusted pretty well to me, even if they're not yet quite sure what my name is, or what I want from them. I'm still doing a lot of thinking as to what my next step should be. I applied for a freelance translating job yesterday--we'll see if I hear anything from them.
I read a really interesting (and for me, really fitting) article in my favorite magazine here, Neon, about the virtues of planning your life, versus letting things happen. According to their experts, I am still in the middle of my "experimental phase" (the 20s). This means I should be trying all kinds of different things out, looking to see what I really want to do with myself. Well, I mean, that much is kind of obvious, I suppose. The more interesting thing they talked about was a sort of "internal career map". I mean, lots of little American kids are told "when you grow up, you can be anything you want--even the President!" but the thesis of the authors was that as you progress in life, your likes and dislikes as well as your experiences start to build up a profile of you that makes you compatible not just with certain types of jobs, but also gives you the characteristics required for certain jobs--for example, a high stress tolerance (moi: negative), flexibility (moi: affirmative), organizational capabilities (moi: negative) and so on and so forth. Like I said, a lot of it really is basic stuff--it really seemed profound to me because of my current "WHERE AM I GOING WITH MY LIFE!?!?!"-crisis. Well, crisis perhaps a slight exaggeration. It stresses me out sometimes more than others. It does irritate me though, that I seem to need so much longer than seemingly everyone else I know to figure out what in heaven's name my "thing" is. "Thing" is a pretty nondescript title, but I didn't want to bring the weighty words of "destiny" or "duty" or "calling" into play. Some people really do feel things like that...and I thought for a long time that I knew exactly what I wanted, too. Sometimes I have to wonder if it's not wrong to be configuring what you want to do/be to the place where you are, and not the other way around. At the same time, though I don't think it's necessary to wax so super dramatic over it.
I'm trying to limit my drama. Let's just say I've let my diva-tendencies get a wee bit out of control lately (I'll leave you all to imagine it for yourselves, though I probably shouldn't, and leave you with the tip--'t wern't pretty.)--believe it or not, working out actually helps. I really haven't any idea why. Perhaps because after doing all my reps and a stint on the treadmill, I just don't have the energy to get worked up over something idiotic, and crying would only dehydrate me even more. Also, with me only working part-time, and putting off doing my taxes and putting together the materials for my two new adult-ed classes (due at the end of the month and starting sometime in September, respectively) I've got all the time in the world for going to the gym! This is a good thing, and I hope the motivation holds on my part, since my new job isn't half as physical as my old one. It sounds weird to say that, since now I'm doing a lot more child-hefting and stroller-pushing than ever before, but it doesn't beat racing around Berlin on foot for several miles a day. All this added to the fact that I now have my own kitchen where I can make pretty much whatever I want, in whatever quantity I wish...as opposed to living with the crazy German roommates, with whom Kraut really was on the menu at least once a week, and I felt guilty taking second helpings. Well, not that it was a problem on the Kraut days...ew. Cabbage.
On a more somber note, I'm hearing and reading all kinds of disturbing things from home. There was a great article in der Spiegel that I read yesterday about how the Democrats, especially those with Presidential ambitions, have been waxing more and more hawkish in recent months. Innnnteresting, innnnteresting. I mean, I'm not so much of a hard-liner that I oppose conflict where conflict is necessary, but I do believe in diplomacy and I still think that even in the age of terror, it should be the first option. I'm very interested to see if the Democrats can play the war game any more successfully than their GOP counterparts.
Also, this whole sub-prime mortgage thing is pretty incredible. I wish I had the money for a downpayment on a house--it'd be a fabulous investment! Unfortunately, this opportunity will have to pass me by...but I hope we can avoid an utter financial collapse. I mean, I know foreign money's been pouring into the market, but the question is, will it help at this point, or is it too late. And sadly, I don't know nearly enough about markets to ponder that with you.
Aaaanyway, time for me to stretch my legs. Sitting indian-style with your laptop on your lap for too long is not recommended after extensive treadmill encounters.
bon appetit.
.mia.
Things in Berlin's fabulous capitol are poking along. But in a nice sort of way, I suppose. I think I've gotten over my pretty rocky re-adjustment phase (it's always such a pisser grappling with the truth of that age-old maxim "wherever you go, there you are."), and I got to spend a lovely weekend with Stephan's family up in the M-V. I rediscovered my healthy American love of playing with firearms--I'm not bad, really. Beat the pants off my European boyfriend, that's for sure. He spent the next day practicing. I had to laugh.
My second week of work is going well--most of the kids have adjusted pretty well to me, even if they're not yet quite sure what my name is, or what I want from them. I'm still doing a lot of thinking as to what my next step should be. I applied for a freelance translating job yesterday--we'll see if I hear anything from them.
I read a really interesting (and for me, really fitting) article in my favorite magazine here, Neon, about the virtues of planning your life, versus letting things happen. According to their experts, I am still in the middle of my "experimental phase" (the 20s). This means I should be trying all kinds of different things out, looking to see what I really want to do with myself. Well, I mean, that much is kind of obvious, I suppose. The more interesting thing they talked about was a sort of "internal career map". I mean, lots of little American kids are told "when you grow up, you can be anything you want--even the President!" but the thesis of the authors was that as you progress in life, your likes and dislikes as well as your experiences start to build up a profile of you that makes you compatible not just with certain types of jobs, but also gives you the characteristics required for certain jobs--for example, a high stress tolerance (moi: negative), flexibility (moi: affirmative), organizational capabilities (moi: negative) and so on and so forth. Like I said, a lot of it really is basic stuff--it really seemed profound to me because of my current "WHERE AM I GOING WITH MY LIFE!?!?!"-crisis. Well, crisis perhaps a slight exaggeration. It stresses me out sometimes more than others. It does irritate me though, that I seem to need so much longer than seemingly everyone else I know to figure out what in heaven's name my "thing" is. "Thing" is a pretty nondescript title, but I didn't want to bring the weighty words of "destiny" or "duty" or "calling" into play. Some people really do feel things like that...and I thought for a long time that I knew exactly what I wanted, too. Sometimes I have to wonder if it's not wrong to be configuring what you want to do/be to the place where you are, and not the other way around. At the same time, though I don't think it's necessary to wax so super dramatic over it.
I'm trying to limit my drama. Let's just say I've let my diva-tendencies get a wee bit out of control lately (I'll leave you all to imagine it for yourselves, though I probably shouldn't, and leave you with the tip--'t wern't pretty.)--believe it or not, working out actually helps. I really haven't any idea why. Perhaps because after doing all my reps and a stint on the treadmill, I just don't have the energy to get worked up over something idiotic, and crying would only dehydrate me even more. Also, with me only working part-time, and putting off doing my taxes and putting together the materials for my two new adult-ed classes (due at the end of the month and starting sometime in September, respectively) I've got all the time in the world for going to the gym! This is a good thing, and I hope the motivation holds on my part, since my new job isn't half as physical as my old one. It sounds weird to say that, since now I'm doing a lot more child-hefting and stroller-pushing than ever before, but it doesn't beat racing around Berlin on foot for several miles a day. All this added to the fact that I now have my own kitchen where I can make pretty much whatever I want, in whatever quantity I wish...as opposed to living with the crazy German roommates, with whom Kraut really was on the menu at least once a week, and I felt guilty taking second helpings. Well, not that it was a problem on the Kraut days...ew. Cabbage.
On a more somber note, I'm hearing and reading all kinds of disturbing things from home. There was a great article in der Spiegel that I read yesterday about how the Democrats, especially those with Presidential ambitions, have been waxing more and more hawkish in recent months. Innnnteresting, innnnteresting. I mean, I'm not so much of a hard-liner that I oppose conflict where conflict is necessary, but I do believe in diplomacy and I still think that even in the age of terror, it should be the first option. I'm very interested to see if the Democrats can play the war game any more successfully than their GOP counterparts.
Also, this whole sub-prime mortgage thing is pretty incredible. I wish I had the money for a downpayment on a house--it'd be a fabulous investment! Unfortunately, this opportunity will have to pass me by...but I hope we can avoid an utter financial collapse. I mean, I know foreign money's been pouring into the market, but the question is, will it help at this point, or is it too late. And sadly, I don't know nearly enough about markets to ponder that with you.
Aaaanyway, time for me to stretch my legs. Sitting indian-style with your laptop on your lap for too long is not recommended after extensive treadmill encounters.
bon appetit.
.mia.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
My Personality...and other wildness.
While trolling through the facebook today, I found this neat little thingy that measures your "personal DNA". I've always been a sucker for personality-determining whatever, so I took the test and found out I'm a "benevolent creator" type. I'd love to see one for someone who's incredibly negative. Is it possible to get "malevolent destroyer" as your personality type? I'll have to look into that.
In other news, I've been back in Berlin for a week now, and am slowly adjusting. The first week back was actually really hard. I'm not sure why, but I found myself just generally quite upset and at loose ends. Couldn't seem to get it together in a paper bag, as they say. I'm pinning it on excessive jet lag (don't fly Aer Lingus) and post-vacation depression. Being doted on in the states didn't help a bit. Things are going better now, though--I think the weather and getting back into a routine have helped.
I started my new job in the nursery school yesterday, though and it's pretty neat. There are only a few kids, the other group leaders are pretty cool and my patience hasn't run out yet with the young 'uns. It's going to be fascinating to see how they develop, linguistically. They're all at an age where they're imitating everything and absorbing so much--I don't think it'll be long before they start to show some signs of my presence. And thanks to this job, I'll have health insurance! I'm in the process of filling out the forms! I'll finally just have a co-pay and not have to front all the expenses myself! Yaaaaaay! It's sad how excited I am over this. Really sad. Getting paid vacation and time off if I'm sick are also things I'm looking seriously forward to. Doing my taxes for last year is something I'm not at all looking forward to. I got an extension until the end of the month, but even with all the time I have on my hands, I just can't bring myself to tackle it. It's not even that much paperwork. I just don't want to do it. I'd much rather go to the gym or loll around on the terasse...not washing dishes or doing anything productive whatsoever. Since I only work around 3 hours a day, I pretty much still have vacation. Which I could get used to. It's pretty dangerous. Eventually, I'm going to have to start looking around for another job, since I don't think I really want to do this forever...which might be...FULL TIME! Imagine!
I don't know. I said I'd go into this nursery school thing with an open mind--and the first few days have been really cool. So we'll have to see. It's a question of whether or not it's worth committing to a 2 year certification program/apprenticeship. I mean, part of me wants to be really and truly qualified for something...whatever it may be. Another part of me thinks "Jeezus! A double major and a minor and THIS is where you end up?!" I have to wonder if I'm just wasting my time and talents. The kids are cute, but how am I going to feel about working with them day in and day out when I have my own? Will I be satisfied doing a job that's fulfilling but not challenging? Can a job be fulfilling and not challenging?
That's what I've been thinking about, how about you guys? As usual, thoughts, comments and suggestions are welcome. Hope you all are getting some sunshine wherever you are!
Monday, July 30, 2007
Vacationland
Rolling thunder is probably not the best pre-req for a new post, but I'll suppress my rural memories of blown circuits, ruined electrical appliances and power outages. I'm here for y'all. "Here" is actually Colleen and Eric's new house in Derry, New Hampshire. It's lovely--I've already taken pictures of the couch to aid Stephan and I in our hunt for home furnishings. Colleen's off getting her car inspected and I'm packed, organized and waiting for my new mp3 player to charge [for you tech fans out there, I got a creative zen V something or other with 2GB. Don't tell me if it's terrible.]. Anyway, I spent the last two weeks running around doing typically "Maine" things like going to the beach in the rain, not eating lobster and helping my dad paint the house. It's actually been really nice, in hindsight. We did a one-stop-shopping family/neighborhood grill-party at our house, so I got to see everyone there at least once. Highly recommendable, although due to the quantity of people, I had to scale back on the quality of visiting. And Janie working 3 jobs meant that I didn't get to see her as much as I'd've liked. But still, it was great seeing the family, catching up on all the latest whatever (some people call it gossip, others call it news...some call it insanity, you know. Whichever.).
Wow. Rural aside--we have the windows open here, and Colleen's house is on a curve at the start of a road. They'd just tarred the new road and so there are tire marks kind of all over. Some guy in a huge, pimped out truck just ground to a halt and shouts "LOOK AT ALL THE SKIDMARKS!" He then revvs his engine and adds one of his own to the many. I didn't know weather to laugh or shake my head.
Anyway, Colleen's back, with car...which means it's lunchtime.
And time for me to head back to 'Schland.
Peace out hoschis.
Wow. Rural aside--we have the windows open here, and Colleen's house is on a curve at the start of a road. They'd just tarred the new road and so there are tire marks kind of all over. Some guy in a huge, pimped out truck just ground to a halt and shouts "LOOK AT ALL THE SKIDMARKS!" He then revvs his engine and adds one of his own to the many. I didn't know weather to laugh or shake my head.
Anyway, Colleen's back, with car...which means it's lunchtime.
And time for me to head back to 'Schland.
Peace out hoschis.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Of Flowers and Goodbyes
[Imagine the world's hugest sigh of relief]
That's my general feeling right now. For about a week, I was showered with flowers, that special acerbic brand of German "constructive" criticism and bone-crushing hugs from incredibly small children. Most places I lied and said I wasn't sure I was coming back next year. The truth is that I'm done with a vengeance. I spent most of the morning throwing out old handouts from the kids and the millions and millions of unused photocopies I'd made. It amounted to two garbage bags full. I probably should have kept some of the stuff...just in case, but I'm really trying to break with my pack-rat past. I also have next to no storage space here, as Germans do not believe in wall closets. I still have to write up my invoice for June and the week that I worked in July, and do up my end-of-the-year reports for every.single.class, but getting rid of the sheer bulk of mess that had taken over my desk was really cathartic.
It wasn't a terrible job...and it was cool to hear the kids and the parents tell me how much they'd enjoyed my work. At the same time, though I know that this just isn't "it" for me. I've got a lot of potential and while the work I was doing was really challenging on certain levels, I feel like it's time to move on. The question is...to what?
I got a rather frightening letter in the mail today from the German Immigration Agency saying that I have the opportunity to go and state my case (concerning my application to work in a tiny bi-lingual nursery school here) on the 17th of July. Now, they used the word for "state your case" (vorsprechen) which can also be used for certain types of auditions or interviews. This all leaves me a little confused and wondering why they can't just tell me either yes I can do the job, or no, they want someone German to do it instead. So yeah, I have to call them and tell them that I obviously won't be able to attend, since I'll have already landed in Frankfurt by then. We'll see. The hell of it is, I don't even really want the job. It's moved from being plan B down to about plan C by now.
But speaking of jobs and plans, the interview I had last Thursday was with the headhunters, which I'd expected, but what threw me is that they really didn't say much at all about the specific job I'd applied for. They maintained that they would send my paperwork directly to an American law firm with their German headquarters in Berlin (a rarity, most of them are based in West Germany) who might be interested in me, but they didn't say whether or not this firm was the one who had placed the proofreader ad. So we'll see. It's all up in the air now. Kind of insanely so. And when I say "it's all up in the air" I really do mean everything.
Case in point: Stephan's financial aid for school. The issue is whether his dad is legally obligated to support him (normally parents are financially responsible for their kids in Germany until they're 27), or whether he'll get the money from the government. It's still not settled and until it gets settled, I've got way more financial responsibility than I'm comfortable with. I mean, in principle, I don't mind. When I came here, Stephan had to cover me for everything, since my money ran out after about a month and I hadn't started working. It's just that I don't have a job as of today. And that I may or may not get one in August.
There's also the wee little matter of our apartment. Which is one of the coolest apartments I know, due to it's great location, enormous terrace and huge windows. Unfortunately, we have the most evil landlady on the planet. She has systematically cheated us out of rent and is refusing to admit to anything (of course). Our apartment is over 10% smaller than stated in our lease. According to German law, our landlord is required to reduce our rent accordingly. The evil landlady from hell refused to believe our architect that we hired to measure the place, and sent her own--who deliberately padded his measurements to make the apartment bigger. I could scream! It's so obvious that they're wrong. Soooo lawyers have been hired (in Germany there's this amazing thing called 'legal insurance'--like health insurance, but for lawyers fees. We have that now. It's cool.) and the odds are good it'll wind up in court. We've talked to an advocate for tenants who said that there'd be no reason why we wouldn't win. That's good news at least, but god only knows how long it's going to take to get this circus settled. Sometimes I think it'd be easier just to move out...but I like it here and I'm sick to death of moving around. Anyway, stay tuned for updates on the battle for the Niederbarnimstr. 2.
So yeah, there's a ton of things that need to get settled, fixed, regulated and finished. When I think too long about it, I start to get a little panicky. Thank heavens the weather is wonderful and sunny and I can sit in the sun on the terrace and forget my troubles.
...Oh wait. It's not. I have a huge complaint to register with whoever's in charge of the weather in north-east Germany at the present. It's July. It's cloudy. It's freezing. I'm afraid for my tomatoes! There's no excuse for my having to run around in jeans and a sweatshirt two weeks after my birthday. It ain't right! I feel for you all who are in north America, suffering in the clutches of this heatwave y'all are supposedly having, but I hope it hangs around until I get there. I've had enough rain and crap weather to last me until next summer.
Enough complaining, however. If I'm honest, life here is pretty great. Stephan der 2. and his girlfriend Caro were here last weekend, Max was around for the last two weeks (Max is a great kid. Incredibly intelligent, incredibly spacey, writes his own hip hop...a general character) and we managed to get some good weather Sunday night so we could grill with Kai and Tini. I've got the next little while off to rest, relax and clean things up and Stephan hasn't failed an exam yet. Even if it sounds like life here is a battle, I'm incredibly thankful for what I've got. Ooh, speaking of things I've got...I've got skype! Add me, because I have no idea how to use it. Stephan got it for me for my birthday with this kick ass bluetooth headset. He went a little formal on the username, so you'll have to search me as margaret.tyler instead of mia.
But anyway, that's enough from me for now, it's time to get back to the clean-up, pick-up game. Hope everyone is well.
That's my general feeling right now. For about a week, I was showered with flowers, that special acerbic brand of German "constructive" criticism and bone-crushing hugs from incredibly small children. Most places I lied and said I wasn't sure I was coming back next year. The truth is that I'm done with a vengeance. I spent most of the morning throwing out old handouts from the kids and the millions and millions of unused photocopies I'd made. It amounted to two garbage bags full. I probably should have kept some of the stuff...just in case, but I'm really trying to break with my pack-rat past. I also have next to no storage space here, as Germans do not believe in wall closets. I still have to write up my invoice for June and the week that I worked in July, and do up my end-of-the-year reports for every.single.class, but getting rid of the sheer bulk of mess that had taken over my desk was really cathartic.
It wasn't a terrible job...and it was cool to hear the kids and the parents tell me how much they'd enjoyed my work. At the same time, though I know that this just isn't "it" for me. I've got a lot of potential and while the work I was doing was really challenging on certain levels, I feel like it's time to move on. The question is...to what?
I got a rather frightening letter in the mail today from the German Immigration Agency saying that I have the opportunity to go and state my case (concerning my application to work in a tiny bi-lingual nursery school here) on the 17th of July. Now, they used the word for "state your case" (vorsprechen) which can also be used for certain types of auditions or interviews. This all leaves me a little confused and wondering why they can't just tell me either yes I can do the job, or no, they want someone German to do it instead. So yeah, I have to call them and tell them that I obviously won't be able to attend, since I'll have already landed in Frankfurt by then. We'll see. The hell of it is, I don't even really want the job. It's moved from being plan B down to about plan C by now.
But speaking of jobs and plans, the interview I had last Thursday was with the headhunters, which I'd expected, but what threw me is that they really didn't say much at all about the specific job I'd applied for. They maintained that they would send my paperwork directly to an American law firm with their German headquarters in Berlin (a rarity, most of them are based in West Germany) who might be interested in me, but they didn't say whether or not this firm was the one who had placed the proofreader ad. So we'll see. It's all up in the air now. Kind of insanely so. And when I say "it's all up in the air" I really do mean everything.
Case in point: Stephan's financial aid for school. The issue is whether his dad is legally obligated to support him (normally parents are financially responsible for their kids in Germany until they're 27), or whether he'll get the money from the government. It's still not settled and until it gets settled, I've got way more financial responsibility than I'm comfortable with. I mean, in principle, I don't mind. When I came here, Stephan had to cover me for everything, since my money ran out after about a month and I hadn't started working. It's just that I don't have a job as of today. And that I may or may not get one in August.
There's also the wee little matter of our apartment. Which is one of the coolest apartments I know, due to it's great location, enormous terrace and huge windows. Unfortunately, we have the most evil landlady on the planet. She has systematically cheated us out of rent and is refusing to admit to anything (of course). Our apartment is over 10% smaller than stated in our lease. According to German law, our landlord is required to reduce our rent accordingly. The evil landlady from hell refused to believe our architect that we hired to measure the place, and sent her own--who deliberately padded his measurements to make the apartment bigger. I could scream! It's so obvious that they're wrong. Soooo lawyers have been hired (in Germany there's this amazing thing called 'legal insurance'--like health insurance, but for lawyers fees. We have that now. It's cool.) and the odds are good it'll wind up in court. We've talked to an advocate for tenants who said that there'd be no reason why we wouldn't win. That's good news at least, but god only knows how long it's going to take to get this circus settled. Sometimes I think it'd be easier just to move out...but I like it here and I'm sick to death of moving around. Anyway, stay tuned for updates on the battle for the Niederbarnimstr. 2.
So yeah, there's a ton of things that need to get settled, fixed, regulated and finished. When I think too long about it, I start to get a little panicky. Thank heavens the weather is wonderful and sunny and I can sit in the sun on the terrace and forget my troubles.
...Oh wait. It's not. I have a huge complaint to register with whoever's in charge of the weather in north-east Germany at the present. It's July. It's cloudy. It's freezing. I'm afraid for my tomatoes! There's no excuse for my having to run around in jeans and a sweatshirt two weeks after my birthday. It ain't right! I feel for you all who are in north America, suffering in the clutches of this heatwave y'all are supposedly having, but I hope it hangs around until I get there. I've had enough rain and crap weather to last me until next summer.
Enough complaining, however. If I'm honest, life here is pretty great. Stephan der 2. and his girlfriend Caro were here last weekend, Max was around for the last two weeks (Max is a great kid. Incredibly intelligent, incredibly spacey, writes his own hip hop...a general character) and we managed to get some good weather Sunday night so we could grill with Kai and Tini. I've got the next little while off to rest, relax and clean things up and Stephan hasn't failed an exam yet. Even if it sounds like life here is a battle, I'm incredibly thankful for what I've got. Ooh, speaking of things I've got...I've got skype! Add me, because I have no idea how to use it. Stephan got it for me for my birthday with this kick ass bluetooth headset. He went a little formal on the username, so you'll have to search me as margaret.tyler instead of mia.
But anyway, that's enough from me for now, it's time to get back to the clean-up, pick-up game. Hope everyone is well.
Monday, July 02, 2007
Friends, Romans, Countrymen...
Howdy.
First, thanks to everyone that sent me wonderful well-wishes on my birthday. I've got loads of love for you all. Even those of you who don't read this. I got heavily buzzed on my terrasse, grilling with some friends. It was nice. (Think flowers, tea lights and temperatures far colder than the current ones in America.)
The weather here has been wretched, considering the fact that it's now July. I'm hoping that the delightfully hot summer weather from the states will eventually hit Europe. "Eventually" meaning before I go home. Speaking of which, I am looking ecstatically forward to my trip stateside, and I hope to see as many of you hoschis as possible. I am also looking ecstatically forward to stopping my current job. My last adult ed (Volkshochschule) course before the summer break is tonight, which will be a wee bit sad, since they were a great group. I'm also nearing the end of my short-lived career in elementary education--a week from tomorrow, I'm done. My boss keeps sending potential new employees to check out my courses, so I don't feel bad about jumping ship. There are enough eager girls with good English skills and the necessary background in education to replace me. In other news, (I can't remember if I knew this the last time I posted or not...presumably not, so I'll write it again. If it's a repeat, please just pretend it never happened) I've got an interview with an international law firm for a job as a proofreader. The first thing my father said was "Good lord, how boring!" but it'd be something...real. Not to mention full-time with benefits. I have to keep selling it to myself like this, because taking this job (if of course the interview goes well) will require some pretty mercenary dealings on my part. I'm already under contract to work in a wee small nursery school that's had tons of setbacks and is just getting off the ground, who I'd obviously have to ditch if this law firm offered me a full time job. Fortunately, the German Labor Department has not yet cleared me to do so. Their decision should, however, come this week. So yeah, keep your fingers crossed for me that the bad guys say no and the good guys say yes. This would be a really neat experience for me, though--giving me both editorial experience and legal experience at the same time. Which in turn would help me to figure out what comes next. And enable me to continue paying rent while I do so.
So there you have it. The latest in weather, news and sports. Oh, wait. I forgot the sports. I'm a cursory follower of formula one racing. No, seriously. I am. It's oddly relaxing. And my favorite driver, Kimi Raikkonen won the French Grand Prix yesterday. I found that exciting. So NOW you have the latest in weather, news and sports. Anything I left out?
Of course. Entertainment.
How could I possibly forget entertainment?
So, because my birthday was on Thursday, and I was not content to let it go with a mere-"sorry, I've got to work tomorrow"-barbecue, I agreed to go out with Tini and some of her friends from work on Friday. Stephan, smelling a girls night out a mile away, begged off to hang out with Max, who's doing a 2 week internship in Berlin. So I rallied admirably Friday, after a hellish full day of work, got my stuff together and trekked to Tini's place. Got a bit well done with some of her people and headed off to this club called Bungaluu. Or Bungalu. Definitely not Bungaloo, as one might expect. Anyway, it's a fairly well-known gay club, or so I've been told. But for whatever reason, we got in for free and got some lovely little bottles of champagne and hung out. As I was wandering off to get rid of our bottles, I bumped into a small grey-haired man standing near the bar. He said something about pushing and I of course apologized and said that I only wanted to get rid of my bottles. He then starts talking to me, saying it's his birthday and introducing all of his friends. He then asks me where my friends are, and telling me I should bring them over. Bear in mind please, that I'm in a pretty well-done state. So this seemed like a fine idea to me. I got the girls and introduced everyone, and apparently this odd little man was some kind of owner or operator of the club, because he took us from top to bottom of the thing. It was a really great space, amazingly decorated with a beautiful roof garden. The gentleman was very courteous, but it was absolutely one of the more surreal things I'd experienced. We stayed there for ages, which was hilarious for a time (there was a convention of plastic surgeons. I met one named Patrick. He was utterly ridiculous.), but by the time 3am rolled around, I was absolutely ready to go. Tini took some cajoling, but we got out of there in time for me to catch the tram home, where I proceeded to fall asleep. Fortunately, I woke up for my station, but it took some serious effort to get myself home. I know why I don't do that more often. It's so exhausting. I slept all day Saturday--with an exception for brunch with Tini, Kai and Co at this restaurant named for Albert Einstein. It's directly across from Cafe Moskau in a neo-chic east Berlin neighborhood.
Anyway, enough of Berlin neo-chic for now...time for me to get ready for my last Vo-Ho class. Yay.
rock out, kinders.
.mia.
First, thanks to everyone that sent me wonderful well-wishes on my birthday. I've got loads of love for you all. Even those of you who don't read this. I got heavily buzzed on my terrasse, grilling with some friends. It was nice. (Think flowers, tea lights and temperatures far colder than the current ones in America.)
The weather here has been wretched, considering the fact that it's now July. I'm hoping that the delightfully hot summer weather from the states will eventually hit Europe. "Eventually" meaning before I go home. Speaking of which, I am looking ecstatically forward to my trip stateside, and I hope to see as many of you hoschis as possible. I am also looking ecstatically forward to stopping my current job. My last adult ed (Volkshochschule) course before the summer break is tonight, which will be a wee bit sad, since they were a great group. I'm also nearing the end of my short-lived career in elementary education--a week from tomorrow, I'm done. My boss keeps sending potential new employees to check out my courses, so I don't feel bad about jumping ship. There are enough eager girls with good English skills and the necessary background in education to replace me. In other news, (I can't remember if I knew this the last time I posted or not...presumably not, so I'll write it again. If it's a repeat, please just pretend it never happened) I've got an interview with an international law firm for a job as a proofreader. The first thing my father said was "Good lord, how boring!" but it'd be something...real. Not to mention full-time with benefits. I have to keep selling it to myself like this, because taking this job (if of course the interview goes well) will require some pretty mercenary dealings on my part. I'm already under contract to work in a wee small nursery school that's had tons of setbacks and is just getting off the ground, who I'd obviously have to ditch if this law firm offered me a full time job. Fortunately, the German Labor Department has not yet cleared me to do so. Their decision should, however, come this week. So yeah, keep your fingers crossed for me that the bad guys say no and the good guys say yes. This would be a really neat experience for me, though--giving me both editorial experience and legal experience at the same time. Which in turn would help me to figure out what comes next. And enable me to continue paying rent while I do so.
So there you have it. The latest in weather, news and sports. Oh, wait. I forgot the sports. I'm a cursory follower of formula one racing. No, seriously. I am. It's oddly relaxing. And my favorite driver, Kimi Raikkonen won the French Grand Prix yesterday. I found that exciting. So NOW you have the latest in weather, news and sports. Anything I left out?
Of course. Entertainment.
How could I possibly forget entertainment?
So, because my birthday was on Thursday, and I was not content to let it go with a mere-"sorry, I've got to work tomorrow"-barbecue, I agreed to go out with Tini and some of her friends from work on Friday. Stephan, smelling a girls night out a mile away, begged off to hang out with Max, who's doing a 2 week internship in Berlin. So I rallied admirably Friday, after a hellish full day of work, got my stuff together and trekked to Tini's place. Got a bit well done with some of her people and headed off to this club called Bungaluu. Or Bungalu. Definitely not Bungaloo, as one might expect. Anyway, it's a fairly well-known gay club, or so I've been told. But for whatever reason, we got in for free and got some lovely little bottles of champagne and hung out. As I was wandering off to get rid of our bottles, I bumped into a small grey-haired man standing near the bar. He said something about pushing and I of course apologized and said that I only wanted to get rid of my bottles. He then starts talking to me, saying it's his birthday and introducing all of his friends. He then asks me where my friends are, and telling me I should bring them over. Bear in mind please, that I'm in a pretty well-done state. So this seemed like a fine idea to me. I got the girls and introduced everyone, and apparently this odd little man was some kind of owner or operator of the club, because he took us from top to bottom of the thing. It was a really great space, amazingly decorated with a beautiful roof garden. The gentleman was very courteous, but it was absolutely one of the more surreal things I'd experienced. We stayed there for ages, which was hilarious for a time (there was a convention of plastic surgeons. I met one named Patrick. He was utterly ridiculous.), but by the time 3am rolled around, I was absolutely ready to go. Tini took some cajoling, but we got out of there in time for me to catch the tram home, where I proceeded to fall asleep. Fortunately, I woke up for my station, but it took some serious effort to get myself home. I know why I don't do that more often. It's so exhausting. I slept all day Saturday--with an exception for brunch with Tini, Kai and Co at this restaurant named for Albert Einstein. It's directly across from Cafe Moskau in a neo-chic east Berlin neighborhood.
Anyway, enough of Berlin neo-chic for now...time for me to get ready for my last Vo-Ho class. Yay.
rock out, kinders.
.mia.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Hilarious and Embarrassing
So yeah. The last time I posted, I distinctly remember complaining that there was nothing worth posting about and that I was overworked. I was in a bad mood, forgive me. Really, there's always something to post. What I could have posted last time (as a potential reason for why one of my Adult Ed business English classes and I just haven't clicked) is the following story.
The scene is set. I'm stressed as hell, running around my apartment trying to find missing business English whatnot...like the textbook for the class and the corresponding CD. I'd been ravenous the entire afternoon, so I'd eaten basically everything left in the house (much to Stephan's chagrin when he came home, but that's another story. He still can't get over how much I eat.).
I leave, make my photocopies, come puntucally for a meeting with my department head, get a tour of the facility, my keys etc. etc. Fortunately, this kind woman also showed me where the ladies bathroom was. So I start teaching my class, and they're shy and quiet, like most classes are when they first start out--they don't usually know eachother and they're getting ready to wallow in their linguistic weakness for the next two and a half hours. It's a sobering prospect, I'm sure. I'm slightly nervous...more jittery, I would say, since of course first impressions are decisive and being as often is the case, the youngest person in the classroom by at least two years and coincientally being the person standing at the front of said classroom...well, it can be challenging and occasionally slightly unnerving.
About a half hour into class, I start feeling dizzy and sweaty. The air in the room is ridiculously stuffy and I'm sucking on my water bottle as much as my teaching duties will permit, but to no avail. After about 35-40 minutes of class, I feel the tell-tale stomach ache coming on. I excuse myself very curtly from my class and sprint to the aforementioned ladies bathroom. I made it with time to spare, get on with emptying my stomach and feel slightly better. I clean myself up a bit, and go back to class...because it's the first ever class I've had with this group, and I'd like to get it over with. Not 15 minutes later, I feel it coming on again. Deep breathing does nothing, and I wind up running out of my class again. This time it was really, really close and...well, I think after the fact, I managed to get most of everything I ate that afternoon off the bathroom floor. I do however, bear a grudge against the criminally non-absorbent institutional "recycled" paper towels they have there.
This time, I'm trying to be cautious and trying to clean up and before I can even get things half way cleaned up, I'm spewing like a fire hose again! This time, I managed to soak myself. It was one of the most disgusting things I've ever experienced. I'm sure I smelled godawful. I try to do what damage control can be done, and finally, I admitted defeat. I went back to the class, threw my coat on to prevent them from seeing that the entire front of my shirt was soaked and told them we'd have to make the class up another time.
So yeah. I then went home, slept for 12 hours straight and everything was fine. I have no idea what it was. I mean, of course, I was slightly nervous...but nothing that would facilitate something like that. I got up the next morning, taught 6 hours of preschoolers and did the next round of this Adult Ed class. I have the sneaking suspicion that the memory of our queasy beginnings haunts them to this day.
It's noon here, the weather is fabulously hot and I'm chilling in my bathrobe. My two morning classes in Spandau got cancelled, and at this point, I'm just glad to have some time for me. I managed to go running both yesterday and today and I'm hoping to be able to keep it up for the next couple of weeks. Since this latest flood of work, I've had neither the time nor the energy to work out, and I'm starting to feel it. It's amazing how much energy you get, though.
In other news, I got my second birthday present from Stephan, like...two and a half weeks early. It's so cute. He buys things and gets so excited, he can't keep them to himself for any length of time at all. (WARNING TO fe/MALE READERS--FOLLOWING TEXT CONTAINS DESCRIPTIONS OF FEMALE HAIR REMOVING TECHNOLOGY. you've been warned.)
So I'd mentioned I was interested in epilation which those of you reading this probably think is the fancy word for general hair removal. Wrong. Epilation is like motorized tweezing. Or for the more mechanically inclined, a lawn mower that removes grass by the roots. Right. So I'd mentioned that I thought this was a cool idea. Everyone knows that shaving sucks. My legs itch worse than a meth addict's when I'm done, and nothing helps. Sooooo I got one of these little buggers as an early birthday present. In lots of parts of Europe, these things are called Epilierer or Epiliergeräte. Mine is really cute and covered in lavender glitter. His name is Hugo. It looks like an electric razor, but the little barrels which go where the razor blades would be are actually full of little tweezers. Sound like a world of pain? Well, it kind of is. I'm still in the stage where I'm getting used to the the thing and for this purpose, the cool cats at Braun included a special little tweezing attatchment. With less tweezers. The annoying thing is, you have to grow out all your goddamn body hair until it's long enough for the little grabbers to grab. Bonus: you are shorn for a 3-4 week period. Now, it's possible that I'm just wayyyy behind on my hair removal technology and you can buy these things at home, but I'd never heard of anything like it. And the surprising thing is, it hurts while you're doing it of course...but when you're done, the pain is gone in like 5 minutes.
Anyway. I have the feeling that was probably wayyyy too much information about my hair removal practices for many of you. But I thought it was kind of cool. And if you saw Hugo, you'd love him. He's just so cute. That said, I think I've posted enough for today. Time to put the finishing touches on my application for a job as a documents editor in a law firm. I'm trying to break out of teaching...we'll see what the German Department of Labor has to say about it. I can have essentially any job I want as a freelancer/English teacher...but I have a feeling the minute you try to move into other sectors of the economy, you get shut down. But I'm optimistic. The job would be great...full time with benefits. Cross your fingers for me.
Tschao.
.mia.
The scene is set. I'm stressed as hell, running around my apartment trying to find missing business English whatnot...like the textbook for the class and the corresponding CD. I'd been ravenous the entire afternoon, so I'd eaten basically everything left in the house (much to Stephan's chagrin when he came home, but that's another story. He still can't get over how much I eat.).
I leave, make my photocopies, come puntucally for a meeting with my department head, get a tour of the facility, my keys etc. etc. Fortunately, this kind woman also showed me where the ladies bathroom was. So I start teaching my class, and they're shy and quiet, like most classes are when they first start out--they don't usually know eachother and they're getting ready to wallow in their linguistic weakness for the next two and a half hours. It's a sobering prospect, I'm sure. I'm slightly nervous...more jittery, I would say, since of course first impressions are decisive and being as often is the case, the youngest person in the classroom by at least two years and coincientally being the person standing at the front of said classroom...well, it can be challenging and occasionally slightly unnerving.
About a half hour into class, I start feeling dizzy and sweaty. The air in the room is ridiculously stuffy and I'm sucking on my water bottle as much as my teaching duties will permit, but to no avail. After about 35-40 minutes of class, I feel the tell-tale stomach ache coming on. I excuse myself very curtly from my class and sprint to the aforementioned ladies bathroom. I made it with time to spare, get on with emptying my stomach and feel slightly better. I clean myself up a bit, and go back to class...because it's the first ever class I've had with this group, and I'd like to get it over with. Not 15 minutes later, I feel it coming on again. Deep breathing does nothing, and I wind up running out of my class again. This time it was really, really close and...well, I think after the fact, I managed to get most of everything I ate that afternoon off the bathroom floor. I do however, bear a grudge against the criminally non-absorbent institutional "recycled" paper towels they have there.
This time, I'm trying to be cautious and trying to clean up and before I can even get things half way cleaned up, I'm spewing like a fire hose again! This time, I managed to soak myself. It was one of the most disgusting things I've ever experienced. I'm sure I smelled godawful. I try to do what damage control can be done, and finally, I admitted defeat. I went back to the class, threw my coat on to prevent them from seeing that the entire front of my shirt was soaked and told them we'd have to make the class up another time.
So yeah. I then went home, slept for 12 hours straight and everything was fine. I have no idea what it was. I mean, of course, I was slightly nervous...but nothing that would facilitate something like that. I got up the next morning, taught 6 hours of preschoolers and did the next round of this Adult Ed class. I have the sneaking suspicion that the memory of our queasy beginnings haunts them to this day.
It's noon here, the weather is fabulously hot and I'm chilling in my bathrobe. My two morning classes in Spandau got cancelled, and at this point, I'm just glad to have some time for me. I managed to go running both yesterday and today and I'm hoping to be able to keep it up for the next couple of weeks. Since this latest flood of work, I've had neither the time nor the energy to work out, and I'm starting to feel it. It's amazing how much energy you get, though.
In other news, I got my second birthday present from Stephan, like...two and a half weeks early. It's so cute. He buys things and gets so excited, he can't keep them to himself for any length of time at all. (WARNING TO fe/MALE READERS--FOLLOWING TEXT CONTAINS DESCRIPTIONS OF FEMALE HAIR REMOVING TECHNOLOGY. you've been warned.)
So I'd mentioned I was interested in epilation which those of you reading this probably think is the fancy word for general hair removal. Wrong. Epilation is like motorized tweezing. Or for the more mechanically inclined, a lawn mower that removes grass by the roots. Right. So I'd mentioned that I thought this was a cool idea. Everyone knows that shaving sucks. My legs itch worse than a meth addict's when I'm done, and nothing helps. Sooooo I got one of these little buggers as an early birthday present. In lots of parts of Europe, these things are called Epilierer or Epiliergeräte. Mine is really cute and covered in lavender glitter. His name is Hugo. It looks like an electric razor, but the little barrels which go where the razor blades would be are actually full of little tweezers. Sound like a world of pain? Well, it kind of is. I'm still in the stage where I'm getting used to the the thing and for this purpose, the cool cats at Braun included a special little tweezing attatchment. With less tweezers. The annoying thing is, you have to grow out all your goddamn body hair until it's long enough for the little grabbers to grab. Bonus: you are shorn for a 3-4 week period. Now, it's possible that I'm just wayyyy behind on my hair removal technology and you can buy these things at home, but I'd never heard of anything like it. And the surprising thing is, it hurts while you're doing it of course...but when you're done, the pain is gone in like 5 minutes.
Anyway. I have the feeling that was probably wayyyy too much information about my hair removal practices for many of you. But I thought it was kind of cool. And if you saw Hugo, you'd love him. He's just so cute. That said, I think I've posted enough for today. Time to put the finishing touches on my application for a job as a documents editor in a law firm. I'm trying to break out of teaching...we'll see what the German Department of Labor has to say about it. I can have essentially any job I want as a freelancer/English teacher...but I have a feeling the minute you try to move into other sectors of the economy, you get shut down. But I'm optimistic. The job would be great...full time with benefits. Cross your fingers for me.
Tschao.
.mia.
Monday, June 04, 2007
So Kinders...
It's been ages since I've gotten it together to post, here--but with good reason. The cables that once connected my computer to the Internet got jammed in one too many doors and therefore went on strike. Posting on Stephan's computer just isn't the same. (Excuse 1.) I just bought a wLAN router on eBay, though, so within the week the problem should be history. I'm also currently working until 9:30pm 3 nights a week. (Excuse 2.) This doesn't mean that I don't love you all, but it's been a bitch of a month. I really, really, really just want it all to be over. I love one of my business classes--it's this great mix of ages and personalities and there's just a fabulous dynamic among the students. When the class is over, I have the feeling that we haven't just learned stuff, we've a had a great time. My other business class which meets twice a week is...different. It's 6 people at the most, but since most of them don't ever talk, it feels like there are really only two or 3 people there. It's a good experience for me, because I have to bust my ass looking up extra grammar exercises for them and explanations for me. I'm learning a shit ton about my own language, but however much I do, it doesn't seem to be enough. At the end of that class, I feel like no one's learned anything and that they all hate me. Not optimal conditions, I must say.
Fortunately, everything will be over in July. My boss from BKS is on my case to keep working at least a couple of hours a week for her, which would be great for the money, but shitty in terms of the commitment. I'd be under contract for a the whole year, and even if things picked up at the nursery school, I'd have problems making it work with the scheduling. I dunno. If things keep going at the Volkshochschule, I won't need the money. Argh. Being a grown up blows.
I'm looking incredibly forward to coming home in July, though. It's irritating that Stephan can't come, but the way his labs are scheduled, we don't actually have common time off together at all this summer, even though the German university's summer break goes until October. It's ridiculous. It'll be cool to see everyone, though and to be honest, a lot less stressful for me.
I'm also realizing that despite the amount of time lapsed between my posts, I don't actually have anything to say. My tomato plants are growing, I spent the weekend vegetating intensively (I lost track of how many hours I slept on the couch on sunday...) and I'm starting the week as slowly as I possibly can. Last week was great--Monday was a holiday, Friday I only taught one class, because it was International Children's Day and a lot of the Kindergartens and after school programs had special programs planned. The bad news is that technically, I'm supposed to make that time up. When or how is a mystery to me--my classes only go for another month. Wow. That's kind of awesome to finally be able to write. Of course, the last weeks are going to be hell. I have the last round of open classrooms, to which all the parents are invited. And they all have to take place in this one week. Ugh. I'm not as petrified as I was the Last time, but it's absolutely nothing to look forward to.
I keep panicking that there's something I should be doing other than this...but I have another hour before I need to leave, and I've got my lessons for today all prepped and the grammar exercises for tonight all laid out. I really just have to take out the trash, throw my stuff in a bag and head to the copy shop. All the same, I should probably get on it.
Hope everything is well where y'all are.
Fortunately, everything will be over in July. My boss from BKS is on my case to keep working at least a couple of hours a week for her, which would be great for the money, but shitty in terms of the commitment. I'd be under contract for a the whole year, and even if things picked up at the nursery school, I'd have problems making it work with the scheduling. I dunno. If things keep going at the Volkshochschule, I won't need the money. Argh. Being a grown up blows.
I'm looking incredibly forward to coming home in July, though. It's irritating that Stephan can't come, but the way his labs are scheduled, we don't actually have common time off together at all this summer, even though the German university's summer break goes until October. It's ridiculous. It'll be cool to see everyone, though and to be honest, a lot less stressful for me.
I'm also realizing that despite the amount of time lapsed between my posts, I don't actually have anything to say. My tomato plants are growing, I spent the weekend vegetating intensively (I lost track of how many hours I slept on the couch on sunday...) and I'm starting the week as slowly as I possibly can. Last week was great--Monday was a holiday, Friday I only taught one class, because it was International Children's Day and a lot of the Kindergartens and after school programs had special programs planned. The bad news is that technically, I'm supposed to make that time up. When or how is a mystery to me--my classes only go for another month. Wow. That's kind of awesome to finally be able to write. Of course, the last weeks are going to be hell. I have the last round of open classrooms, to which all the parents are invited. And they all have to take place in this one week. Ugh. I'm not as petrified as I was the Last time, but it's absolutely nothing to look forward to.
I keep panicking that there's something I should be doing other than this...but I have another hour before I need to leave, and I've got my lessons for today all prepped and the grammar exercises for tonight all laid out. I really just have to take out the trash, throw my stuff in a bag and head to the copy shop. All the same, I should probably get on it.
Hope everything is well where y'all are.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Who's ready for another hilarious dose of expat-life?
Ooh, ooh pick me! Pick me!
So this is really fresh off the presses, ladies and gentlemen. By that I mean it happened to me about an hour ago. Mondays I have a late start--in exchange for not having to work until 12 noon, I teach a business English course from 6:45 to 9:15 pm. It all evens out, so don't hate. Anyway. I had some errands to run today, the first of which being getting my birth control prescription renewed. So I go to the doctor.
I hesitate here to say "my doctor" because I've only ever been there once before, for the same reason. She was a nice old lady, but apparently this week she's on vacation. So I went in to see her colleague, Mrs. Dr. Richter. I've gotten better at going to the doctor here--it doesn't make me half as nervous as it used to, but I still get a little stumbly with ye olde German. This lady was also not the type to put one at ease. We're talking a semi-ancient woman of Berlin-ese descent, which means although she's a highly educated woman, I could hardly understand her. She also corrected me for forgetting the Dr. between "Mrs." and "Pfeiffer" (the other Dr. I saw...) and had about as much of the much-praised bedside manner as a scrub pine tree. ANYWAY. I manage to explain what I want and how much of it, and then comes the classic part.
Me: Well, Doc, y'see I've got this rash...
Doc Richter: Show me.
Me: (shows her)
Doc Richter: Ahhhh. A clear case of 'alskduognehixxi'.
Me: Uhhhh...any idea what it came from?
Doc Richter: It's a fungus. You're too clean.
Me: whaaaaaat?
Doc Richter: Too much washing destroys the skin's natural defense mechanisms.
Me: So it's not from the gym?
Doc Richter: I don't know what-all you do at the gym...
Me: (blushes) ...So what should I do?
Doc Richter: It often comes in the springtime. Take this pill once a day for two weeks, use some cream and don't wash.
Me: For two weeks?!
Doc Richter: You'll stink like a pig, but each time it encounters soap and water, you disrupt the healing process. (vigorously writes out three prescriptions)
Me: Ummm...thanks, Doc.
Doc Richter: Get well soon!
So yeah. I just spend over a hundred Euro (not including the Doctors' fees) to get told I'm too clean. Only in Germany, man. It's not that I wash excessively or anything. At least not by American standards. Most of the time, I shower one a day and wash my hair then, too. Occasionally if I have to get up real early or something, I skip a day. And feel dirty. This is going to be a fun two weeks.
In other news, Matthias and the Scirocco were here this weekend, which was fabulous. He insisted that he wanted to go see a museum instead of shopping with Stephan, which is essentially unheard of. (In case this has not been previously mentioned, Stephan is very good at shopping.) Stephan, of course, rioted over being out-voted and went and got his hair cut instead. Matthias and I checked out two fabulous exhibits at the German Museum of History (which I'd previously avoided for no good reason): Art and Propaganda and Dictatorship and Daily Life in the GDR. I can highly recommend both. And of course, checking out the GDR exhibit with someone who was born there was really freaking cool. We walked through and Matthias was like "and we had that, and that and that..." Imagine how it must feel to be 25 and walking through a museum exhibit of things that were a part of your childhood. It's got to be bizarre.
However, I am really only putting off making some extremely necessary phone calls, here. Which isn't good. See, this weekend (i.e. next Tuesday) is the first of May. In many former Communist/Socialist countries, it's celebrated as The Day of Work and it's a holiday. In East Germany, lots and lots of socialists, anti-facists, angry turkish kids and neo-nazis like to riot then. We happen to live in an anti-fa hotbed, which is okay by me...I mean, they're kinda fun. Not, however when they are burning cars and causing our neighborhood to be full of cops. So we're trying to get out of the city for the long weekend...but in order for this to work, I've got to reschedule my tutoring appointment. Meh. Hopefully tomorrow or Wednesday aren't too last minute for them. But usually they're flexible. Anyway, enough of this.
have a very merry.
So this is really fresh off the presses, ladies and gentlemen. By that I mean it happened to me about an hour ago. Mondays I have a late start--in exchange for not having to work until 12 noon, I teach a business English course from 6:45 to 9:15 pm. It all evens out, so don't hate. Anyway. I had some errands to run today, the first of which being getting my birth control prescription renewed. So I go to the doctor.
I hesitate here to say "my doctor" because I've only ever been there once before, for the same reason. She was a nice old lady, but apparently this week she's on vacation. So I went in to see her colleague, Mrs. Dr. Richter. I've gotten better at going to the doctor here--it doesn't make me half as nervous as it used to, but I still get a little stumbly with ye olde German. This lady was also not the type to put one at ease. We're talking a semi-ancient woman of Berlin-ese descent, which means although she's a highly educated woman, I could hardly understand her. She also corrected me for forgetting the Dr. between "Mrs." and "Pfeiffer" (the other Dr. I saw...) and had about as much of the much-praised bedside manner as a scrub pine tree. ANYWAY. I manage to explain what I want and how much of it, and then comes the classic part.
Me: Well, Doc, y'see I've got this rash...
Doc Richter: Show me.
Me: (shows her)
Doc Richter: Ahhhh. A clear case of 'alskduognehixxi'.
Me: Uhhhh...any idea what it came from?
Doc Richter: It's a fungus. You're too clean.
Me: whaaaaaat?
Doc Richter: Too much washing destroys the skin's natural defense mechanisms.
Me: So it's not from the gym?
Doc Richter: I don't know what-all you do at the gym...
Me: (blushes) ...So what should I do?
Doc Richter: It often comes in the springtime. Take this pill once a day for two weeks, use some cream and don't wash.
Me: For two weeks?!
Doc Richter: You'll stink like a pig, but each time it encounters soap and water, you disrupt the healing process. (vigorously writes out three prescriptions)
Me: Ummm...thanks, Doc.
Doc Richter: Get well soon!
So yeah. I just spend over a hundred Euro (not including the Doctors' fees) to get told I'm too clean. Only in Germany, man. It's not that I wash excessively or anything. At least not by American standards. Most of the time, I shower one a day and wash my hair then, too. Occasionally if I have to get up real early or something, I skip a day. And feel dirty. This is going to be a fun two weeks.
In other news, Matthias and the Scirocco were here this weekend, which was fabulous. He insisted that he wanted to go see a museum instead of shopping with Stephan, which is essentially unheard of. (In case this has not been previously mentioned, Stephan is very good at shopping.) Stephan, of course, rioted over being out-voted and went and got his hair cut instead. Matthias and I checked out two fabulous exhibits at the German Museum of History (which I'd previously avoided for no good reason): Art and Propaganda and Dictatorship and Daily Life in the GDR. I can highly recommend both. And of course, checking out the GDR exhibit with someone who was born there was really freaking cool. We walked through and Matthias was like "and we had that, and that and that..." Imagine how it must feel to be 25 and walking through a museum exhibit of things that were a part of your childhood. It's got to be bizarre.
However, I am really only putting off making some extremely necessary phone calls, here. Which isn't good. See, this weekend (i.e. next Tuesday) is the first of May. In many former Communist/Socialist countries, it's celebrated as The Day of Work and it's a holiday. In East Germany, lots and lots of socialists, anti-facists, angry turkish kids and neo-nazis like to riot then. We happen to live in an anti-fa hotbed, which is okay by me...I mean, they're kinda fun. Not, however when they are burning cars and causing our neighborhood to be full of cops. So we're trying to get out of the city for the long weekend...but in order for this to work, I've got to reschedule my tutoring appointment. Meh. Hopefully tomorrow or Wednesday aren't too last minute for them. But usually they're flexible. Anyway, enough of this.
have a very merry.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Happy Easter, Folks...
This'll be a mini holler, because we're supposed to be on the 1:20pm train to Gloewen to meet up with Stephan's mum, who's driving us to the grandparents in the Harz mountains for Easter. It sounds complicated...but it's not really. I'm excited. Stephan's mum Angie is not the most relaxed person I know, so this may not be the most restful Easter weekend of my life, but whatever. It'll be nice to have a distraction from missing Easter with my family and the Passover seder with the Bickermans, all in one weekend.
Last night I met up with Carol Ladd, my high school German teacher, and the group of GAPP exchange kids she's taking through Berlin. It was really weird seeing them and the old chaperons-- and kids like Sam Whittemore who I used to read Roald Dahl to (he remembered, the darling). It's also wild to think that if, for whatever reason, I hadn't gone on the GAPP trip, how different my life would be. It sounds incredibly ridiculous to say that it was a life-changing, door-opening experience for me, but it was. On the whole, it was lovely. A little unsettling, but lovely all the same. And it was a weird kind of validation to be able to introduce Stephan to someone from home. I mean, I know his entire family, all his friends...almost everything, really and he has so few glimpses into my American life. When I think about the fact that he hasn't even met my parents, it's certainly a weird feeling. But it'll happen. In good time.
Hopefully.
Anyhow, I've gotten my 5 minute warning, which means I've got to start frantically searching the apartment for things I've previously forgotten to pack.
Enjoy your respective egg hunts!
Last night I met up with Carol Ladd, my high school German teacher, and the group of GAPP exchange kids she's taking through Berlin. It was really weird seeing them and the old chaperons-- and kids like Sam Whittemore who I used to read Roald Dahl to (he remembered, the darling). It's also wild to think that if, for whatever reason, I hadn't gone on the GAPP trip, how different my life would be. It sounds incredibly ridiculous to say that it was a life-changing, door-opening experience for me, but it was. On the whole, it was lovely. A little unsettling, but lovely all the same. And it was a weird kind of validation to be able to introduce Stephan to someone from home. I mean, I know his entire family, all his friends...almost everything, really and he has so few glimpses into my American life. When I think about the fact that he hasn't even met my parents, it's certainly a weird feeling. But it'll happen. In good time.
Hopefully.
Anyhow, I've gotten my 5 minute warning, which means I've got to start frantically searching the apartment for things I've previously forgotten to pack.
Enjoy your respective egg hunts!
Friday, March 30, 2007
Annamossweebela
I've been meaning to post this for ages. There really are heartwarming or hilarious aspects of my job. Really. It's just that the insane ones tend to overshadow them. I have a new nursery school down in Southeast Berlin with really little children. Like, I think the parents are cheating and some of these kids are two and a half-little. So I'm there, doing my little intro-class with all the parents there and I'm teaching the kids how to introduce themselves. This entails going around in a circle and me saying several thousand times "My name is Mia--Ich bin die Mia--What's your name--wie heisst du?" and then prompting them "Myyy naaaame issss--wie heisst du?--" So becaues these kids are so young, this is taking a while. I finally get to this charming little girl. Really cute as a button. And I go through my whole little schpiel and she answers "Myyyy naaame isss Annamossweebela". Of course, I'm looking at this child like she's speaking in tongues, because this makes no sense in either English or German. My first thought is "perhaps she's Russian"--in any event, I ask her again what her name is, and she says "Annamossweebela" again. At this point, the nursery-school teacher jumps in and says "Anna". So I write her name down. The next kid says his name is "Doctor Haxe"--not that I have any idea what that's supposed to be a reference to, but the parents are amused and someone jumps in and tells me that this child is Paul. After this little info-class is over, I give the parents the little speech about how our program is set up and what they can expect and our philosophy and everything, and after I'm done, during the Q&A, a mother approaches me. She turns out to be the mother of little Annamossweebela and she was terribly apologetic--it turns out they call the little girl "Anna-mouse"--not only does she think this is her real name, but like many small children, she pronounces her first and last names as one gigantic word, making the end result an utterly unintelligible chaos. I didn't get a similar explanation for Doctor Haxe, but I'm keeping an ear out.
The other week, in another one of my schools, a smart, cute little six-year-old busted out with "Miiiiaaaaa, what's your real job?" I laughed a little and answered "Elias, this is my real job." His reply: "Oh. You can't make very much money, then." I've got to say, I was impressed with his shrewdness.
I've had the recent pleasure of doing Easter-themed classes and one of my favorite mistakes the kids make is referring to the Easter Bunny as "Mister Bunny". I never noticed before, but the two sound incredibly similar. The poor kids know that "Mister" is English, so it makes sense to them, and most of the time they can't understand why I'm correcting them.
Let's see...what else is amusing about my job?
H'm.
I can't think of anything.
The most important thing is that Easter Vacation started today, which means I'm now only working half time. It's like the psychotic part of my job just...falls away. Or at least one psychotic part. We were planning on going up to Rostock/Gross Schwiesow for the Easter holidays, but apparently the plan has changed, so we're going back to the mountains with Angie and the Grandparents. I'm okay with both plans, really. Hopefully the weather will be better. During the 50th anniversary (the last time we were there) it pissed rain the entire time. And since there's so much beautiful nature there, it was a real shame.
However.
Enough about beautiful nature. We're going to Kai's for dinner, and I've got to change up.
tschao.
The other week, in another one of my schools, a smart, cute little six-year-old busted out with "Miiiiaaaaa, what's your real job?" I laughed a little and answered "Elias, this is my real job." His reply: "Oh. You can't make very much money, then." I've got to say, I was impressed with his shrewdness.
I've had the recent pleasure of doing Easter-themed classes and one of my favorite mistakes the kids make is referring to the Easter Bunny as "Mister Bunny". I never noticed before, but the two sound incredibly similar. The poor kids know that "Mister" is English, so it makes sense to them, and most of the time they can't understand why I'm correcting them.
Let's see...what else is amusing about my job?
H'm.
I can't think of anything.
The most important thing is that Easter Vacation started today, which means I'm now only working half time. It's like the psychotic part of my job just...falls away. Or at least one psychotic part. We were planning on going up to Rostock/Gross Schwiesow for the Easter holidays, but apparently the plan has changed, so we're going back to the mountains with Angie and the Grandparents. I'm okay with both plans, really. Hopefully the weather will be better. During the 50th anniversary (the last time we were there) it pissed rain the entire time. And since there's so much beautiful nature there, it was a real shame.
However.
Enough about beautiful nature. We're going to Kai's for dinner, and I've got to change up.
tschao.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Saturday Morning, or Wintersport
*Enter contented sigh here*
...Finally weekend. And for March, the weather's finally starting to shape up. I have to say, I am among those who hate the month of March with a passion and a vengeance. However, Berlin is starting to come through for me. At least the sun has made a few appearances in the last week, and it's been warm--and both have helped me to deal with the reciprocating shitstorm that is my job. Like I mentioned in my last post, I'm in the middle of doing "open classrooms" for the parents of my students. It's a real mixed bag. I've had parents demand my replacement and threaten to take their kids out of the course, and I've had parents ask me to tutor their children privately. The words "hell auf begeistert" have also been uttered in regards to my teaching abilities, which loosely translated means super-enthusiastic. But I've also had a bunch of kids being like "I've quit, my mum has taken me out of the class because I hate it!" Aaaawesome. Those are the times I wish it wasn't against the law or my personal morals to hit a child. And of course, my boss hears all these things and is like "what the fuck is she doing?!" So I'm on probation again, and she's doing a surprise visit to one of my classes/schools next week. Grrrrreat. The good news is, after this woman called my boss, we had a big, fat teleconference and I was like, "guess what, I quit!" Which sounds wayyy cooler and more satisfactory than it actually is, since it stands in my contract explicitly than I cannot quit, I can only say I refuse to renew it after the end of the school year. So yeah. That's what the plan is. Which we all know has been the plan since, like...October, but my boss was pretty surprised. She was all like, "I really hope you change your mind--think it over," and telling me that trained teachers at our company have the same problems that I do and worse, and offering me only to work in nursery schools next year. Which would partly solve the problem...but partly not. I mean, yeah, I have huge discipline problems in some of my schools...and really none with my little kids. But what I don't like is the whole "you don't work, you don't get paid" deal--and the fact that I commute like, 15 hours a week between schools, all unpaid. It's an enormous waste of time and a huge drain.
So yeah, now my boss knows that I'm done. And that's good. It's just a question of getting through the next four months. Ughhhhh.
But back to nice things: I got woken up by my future mother-in-law this morning--she's planning a coup at her parent's golden wedding anniversary including Stephan's and my surprise arrival. So we had to discuss that. It'll be hectic trying to get it all organized, but worth it--the grandparents will be out of their heads. Again, I'm soooo lucky to have such a wonderful second family. This whole entry is procrastination, though. I should be writing my invoice for work so that I can get paid this month--but it's so freaking obnoxious to write down where I was on what day, add all the hours together, add up how much money I should get...track down every single receipt from every single photocopy I've made for work, write down on the back of every receipt what I photocopied and for what class...and add up the amount. Is it any wonder that I'm putting it off?! Christ!
I really don't want to talk about work any more, though. I'm lucky to have one, period. And I'm working on finding out what would be better/more fulfilling for me...and gasp! possibly long term. If you have suggestions, holleratcha girl. So far, I've spent the morning conspiring, sleeping on the couch during biathlon and watching the Nordic skiing world cup. It's so cool. You can sleep, wake up, get excited, sleep some more, wake up, watch amazing skiiers...it's incredibly relaxing. And I need to be relaxed if I'm going to rock my evening tonight. Thursday, I rebelled against the fact that I had to get up at 6am and went to an English-speaking social thing-y at a bar in Mitte. I was supposed to meet Katie, a friend of mine there, but I was early and she was late so I started talking to these girls who I thought were British. I was like "hey, do you guys know Katie Turner?" --"noooo" "Oh. Are you here for the English-speaking social thing?" ---"noooo, we're not English." "Uhh, well Katie's Scottish" --"we're not Scottish either." "Oh! Well, where are you from?" --"Iceland, Iceland and Denmark." At this point, I was kinda embarrassed and was ready to leave, but they were so nice and my gin tonic was still full, so I sat down with them and started to chat. Two hours later, I finally caught a glimpse of Katie, who'd been afraid I wasn't coming at all, but by then it was so late, I could only chat with her for a few minutes before I really had to head home. Still, it was hilarious. So the two Icelandic girls are throwing a party tonight and I'm really excited. I think it'll be a riotous good time. I also find it hilarious that I went to this thing hoping to network with english-speakers and wound up chilling with english-speaking scandinavians. Ri-ot.
But before I get to play, I have to survive dinner at Christian and Cindy's new apartment. 'Nuff said, I hope. Cindy actually said "hey! maybe we can have that board-game night we've always been meaning to have!" I tried to put it off on her being drunk, but...no. She was serious. Fortunately there's a boxing match tonight that Stephan really wants to see, so he'll make sure we're out of there in time. Niiiice.
Anyway, time to decide if I'm going to the hardware store or the gym. H'mmmmm.
kiss. (first cheek)
kiss. (other cheek)
.mia.
...Finally weekend. And for March, the weather's finally starting to shape up. I have to say, I am among those who hate the month of March with a passion and a vengeance. However, Berlin is starting to come through for me. At least the sun has made a few appearances in the last week, and it's been warm--and both have helped me to deal with the reciprocating shitstorm that is my job. Like I mentioned in my last post, I'm in the middle of doing "open classrooms" for the parents of my students. It's a real mixed bag. I've had parents demand my replacement and threaten to take their kids out of the course, and I've had parents ask me to tutor their children privately. The words "hell auf begeistert" have also been uttered in regards to my teaching abilities, which loosely translated means super-enthusiastic. But I've also had a bunch of kids being like "I've quit, my mum has taken me out of the class because I hate it!" Aaaawesome. Those are the times I wish it wasn't against the law or my personal morals to hit a child. And of course, my boss hears all these things and is like "what the fuck is she doing?!" So I'm on probation again, and she's doing a surprise visit to one of my classes/schools next week. Grrrrreat. The good news is, after this woman called my boss, we had a big, fat teleconference and I was like, "guess what, I quit!" Which sounds wayyy cooler and more satisfactory than it actually is, since it stands in my contract explicitly than I cannot quit, I can only say I refuse to renew it after the end of the school year. So yeah. That's what the plan is. Which we all know has been the plan since, like...October, but my boss was pretty surprised. She was all like, "I really hope you change your mind--think it over," and telling me that trained teachers at our company have the same problems that I do and worse, and offering me only to work in nursery schools next year. Which would partly solve the problem...but partly not. I mean, yeah, I have huge discipline problems in some of my schools...and really none with my little kids. But what I don't like is the whole "you don't work, you don't get paid" deal--and the fact that I commute like, 15 hours a week between schools, all unpaid. It's an enormous waste of time and a huge drain.
So yeah, now my boss knows that I'm done. And that's good. It's just a question of getting through the next four months. Ughhhhh.
But back to nice things: I got woken up by my future mother-in-law this morning--she's planning a coup at her parent's golden wedding anniversary including Stephan's and my surprise arrival. So we had to discuss that. It'll be hectic trying to get it all organized, but worth it--the grandparents will be out of their heads. Again, I'm soooo lucky to have such a wonderful second family. This whole entry is procrastination, though. I should be writing my invoice for work so that I can get paid this month--but it's so freaking obnoxious to write down where I was on what day, add all the hours together, add up how much money I should get...track down every single receipt from every single photocopy I've made for work, write down on the back of every receipt what I photocopied and for what class...and add up the amount. Is it any wonder that I'm putting it off?! Christ!
I really don't want to talk about work any more, though. I'm lucky to have one, period. And I'm working on finding out what would be better/more fulfilling for me...and gasp! possibly long term. If you have suggestions, holleratcha girl. So far, I've spent the morning conspiring, sleeping on the couch during biathlon and watching the Nordic skiing world cup. It's so cool. You can sleep, wake up, get excited, sleep some more, wake up, watch amazing skiiers...it's incredibly relaxing. And I need to be relaxed if I'm going to rock my evening tonight. Thursday, I rebelled against the fact that I had to get up at 6am and went to an English-speaking social thing-y at a bar in Mitte. I was supposed to meet Katie, a friend of mine there, but I was early and she was late so I started talking to these girls who I thought were British. I was like "hey, do you guys know Katie Turner?" --"noooo" "Oh. Are you here for the English-speaking social thing?" ---"noooo, we're not English." "Uhh, well Katie's Scottish" --"we're not Scottish either." "Oh! Well, where are you from?" --"Iceland, Iceland and Denmark." At this point, I was kinda embarrassed and was ready to leave, but they were so nice and my gin tonic was still full, so I sat down with them and started to chat. Two hours later, I finally caught a glimpse of Katie, who'd been afraid I wasn't coming at all, but by then it was so late, I could only chat with her for a few minutes before I really had to head home. Still, it was hilarious. So the two Icelandic girls are throwing a party tonight and I'm really excited. I think it'll be a riotous good time. I also find it hilarious that I went to this thing hoping to network with english-speakers and wound up chilling with english-speaking scandinavians. Ri-ot.
But before I get to play, I have to survive dinner at Christian and Cindy's new apartment. 'Nuff said, I hope. Cindy actually said "hey! maybe we can have that board-game night we've always been meaning to have!" I tried to put it off on her being drunk, but...no. She was serious. Fortunately there's a boxing match tonight that Stephan really wants to see, so he'll make sure we're out of there in time. Niiiice.
Anyway, time to decide if I'm going to the hardware store or the gym. H'mmmmm.
kiss. (first cheek)
kiss. (other cheek)
.mia.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
New Apartment, Moving and other Whatnot
So yeah, it's been a while, as usual--things keep happening that keep me from posting. Like insane work (I'm subbing twice this week and have picked up two new classes of my own in the last month), doing crazy open-classrooms where I have to answer to the parents if the kids are their usual insane selves and...drumroll please...MOVING!!! Yeah, shit's been wild. But now things are sort of starting to settle--Stephan and I are completely moved in and starting to slowly acquire all the inane little things one needs to be self sufficient (i.e. vegetable peelers, vaccuum cleaners, mops...spices, plants--I could go on but I'll stop). It's cool. I've thrown a few pictures up on facebook of us in our first transitional weekend. I don't really like the baby pink kitchen or the lime-green living room, but we made a deal with the previous tenant that she could just give us the cash and we'd do the painting ourselves, so we could move in faster. I saw both my old roomates for the first time today on the way to the gym. It was a little weird. They both nabbed Stephan because they can't get their TV or their washing machine to work. I really had to swallow my laughter. The "man" in this relationship cannot (and I wish I were joking here) cannot change a freaking lightbulb. Really. I must have posted this priceless story before--but yeah. I had to show him how. Silly me, I thought Chrsitian was being sarcastic. Nope. So I'm really not surprised they need Stephan to come play handyman. I'm not overly traditionalist when it comes to gender roles, really I'm not. I can change lightbulbs and kill spiders and figure out why the toilet doesn't flush or whatever...but it's really nice not to have to, you know?
AAAAAAAAAAAnyway.
Tonight should be fun/weird/interesting. We're invited to the housewarming party of the people who moved into our apartment. Nice gesture, I thought. Christian and Cindy are planning on putting in an appearance, so I invited Julia for moral racous support. And besides, showing up at a party where you used to live, with an entourage...I love it. The girls that moved in there seemed nice, and if it's too "pass the wine, dahhling", we can always roll out to Julia's or something. And it's nice to not be totally spießig and go out for a change on the weekends. Last weekend was the roomate-change party at Julia's place, which was a glorious, glorious riot. She said they had to kick some weird Belgians out at 5am. We were long gone (both literally and figuratively) at that point, but it's a testament to the kind of party it was. I rocked the gin-soaked small-talk and occasionally checked on Stephan and his best friend Matthias (who was an absolute legend and came down for the weekend with his dad's SUV to help us move). Riotous good times all around. Late-breaking News: just found out that Christian and Cindy will be coming here preparty and we'll all be leaving together. I'm really hoping that I'm just being myself and seeing the situation overly pessimistically. Maybe it'll be nice. Great is out of the question, but there should be enough people there so that I can ignore them. God, do I sound like a bitch. However, these people made me feel unwelcome and uncomfortable in my own house. For like, the better part of four months. Not necessarily an unforgivable crime, but really...I just don't have the burning desire to have anything to further to do with them. Bahhh. Before I have time to work myself into a lather over this, I'm going to sign off and ummm...work on thinking positively. i.e. pregame.
love,
.mia.
AAAAAAAAAAAnyway.
Tonight should be fun/weird/interesting. We're invited to the housewarming party of the people who moved into our apartment. Nice gesture, I thought. Christian and Cindy are planning on putting in an appearance, so I invited Julia for moral racous support. And besides, showing up at a party where you used to live, with an entourage...I love it. The girls that moved in there seemed nice, and if it's too "pass the wine, dahhling", we can always roll out to Julia's or something. And it's nice to not be totally spießig and go out for a change on the weekends. Last weekend was the roomate-change party at Julia's place, which was a glorious, glorious riot. She said they had to kick some weird Belgians out at 5am. We were long gone (both literally and figuratively) at that point, but it's a testament to the kind of party it was. I rocked the gin-soaked small-talk and occasionally checked on Stephan and his best friend Matthias (who was an absolute legend and came down for the weekend with his dad's SUV to help us move). Riotous good times all around. Late-breaking News: just found out that Christian and Cindy will be coming here preparty and we'll all be leaving together. I'm really hoping that I'm just being myself and seeing the situation overly pessimistically. Maybe it'll be nice. Great is out of the question, but there should be enough people there so that I can ignore them. God, do I sound like a bitch. However, these people made me feel unwelcome and uncomfortable in my own house. For like, the better part of four months. Not necessarily an unforgivable crime, but really...I just don't have the burning desire to have anything to further to do with them. Bahhh. Before I have time to work myself into a lather over this, I'm going to sign off and ummm...work on thinking positively. i.e. pregame.
love,
.mia.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Apartment-Hunting
...I am. Well, I exaggerate actually. Stephan is doing most of the searching. I'm visiting (when my work schedule allows), looking at Internet montages of potential candidates and vetoing. The thing is, though, on Saturday, we found an amazing apartment. It's small (but so are we), has an open, i.e. "American-Style" kitchen, which makes the whole living-room area great for dinner parties and the hugest terrace/balcony deal I've ever seen. It's gorgeous and I want it to be mine. Other important side notes: it's like, a block over and a block up from where we live now, so the neighborhood stays awesome, it faces out into the back courtyard, so you don't get any of the street noise, the neighbors are allegedly relaxed about barbecuing and parties (which the terrace really begs for), there's a bathtub (despite the outrageous price of warm water and utilities here, I'm a bath addict), aaaand what is not necessarily a given in terms of German apartments: it comes with a kitchen. Y'see, here people buy their own kitchens at, like the home-depot equivalent and take them with them from apartment to apartment. It's real weird, seeing an apartment with nothing to designate the kitchen as such except a tile floor. But bathrooms do come with toilets. And sinks. And either a bathtub/shower or a shower. It's fun and exciting. Late-breaking news flash: apparently we have the apartment. I know there should be an exclamation point there, but I'm just so afraid it's not really going to work out the way it's "planned", I can't let myself set my hopes too high.
However, this is slated to be another short post--I have my Volkshochschule (it's like a super-well-organized adult ed) Course in forty-five minutes. Got to get prepared to get my business on for two and a half hours. Whee!
Till next time.
However, this is slated to be another short post--I have my Volkshochschule (it's like a super-well-organized adult ed) Course in forty-five minutes. Got to get prepared to get my business on for two and a half hours. Whee!
Till next time.
Monday, February 05, 2007
homemade ginger tea
Soooooo...as usual, it's been a while. Things here on the Eastern Front are going ______.
Roomates are definitely still crazy (latest example: Stephan's brother Max spends his school vacations with us. It's tradition. He's 16, we live in a big cool city...it's logical, too. So they know this is the trend, and Stephan texts them to let them know we're coming home and they actually say "no, it's not okay. we agreed you'd tell us before hand. we don't want Max to come." I mean, what cheek! firstly, they got told--it's not like we just showed up or something, and secondly, they didn't say 'man, we've got a lot of stress, etc. etc. could we make it another time, or could he not come for as long'. They just said no. Which leads me to believe it's really just them being contrary bitches. )
So yeah, no real need to discuss that more thoroughly--they're just ridiculous. In more exciting, fun news, Henry was here last week. He was officially the first Kenyon person to mercilessly track me down and sleep on my couch--and it was really really cool. I'm always paranoid when people come visit me, because people judge. It's what they do. And no one's necessarily comfortable with the idea that their life is being given the once-over. Especially since I'm pretty sure noone from Kenyon would have imagined me playing with a fucking handpuppet for a living. But it works. For now. The weird thing was, having someone there made me see my life and where I live in a totally different light. I mean, you get used to anything (I've been told after 21 days), and I totally take all the cool things about Berlin and my life in general for granted. So having Henry here really made me see everything afresh. Or anew. Or whichever word you'd use in that context. I mean, my job pays decently, I live in an awesome city with an awesome boyfriend and yeah...it's pretty damn cool. Despite what I might write here.
Cool news of the moment is that Stephan got his slot in the biochemistry department at the Freie Universitaet, which has been his dream thing that's been on hold for the past few months. He was out of his head with glee last night when he got the letter. I'm ecstatic too, because it really is what he want to be doing. And there's not much cooler than that. So we toasted last night with Havanna Club (one of the beautiful things about not living in a country with a Cuban embargo: cuban rum) and rocked out over it.
Fortunately, I've got this week half-off, so I can catch up on communications/sleep that off. I've been emailing all freaking afternoon. It's been intense. And somehow, I don't feel all that productive. Probably because I'm putting off sending some pretty important onces...oops. Oh well. However, I'm banking on having more time to post later this week (probably a false assumption) and dishes are calling, so I'm going to go play housewife.
Roomates are definitely still crazy (latest example: Stephan's brother Max spends his school vacations with us. It's tradition. He's 16, we live in a big cool city...it's logical, too. So they know this is the trend, and Stephan texts them to let them know we're coming home and they actually say "no, it's not okay. we agreed you'd tell us before hand. we don't want Max to come." I mean, what cheek! firstly, they got told--it's not like we just showed up or something, and secondly, they didn't say 'man, we've got a lot of stress, etc. etc. could we make it another time, or could he not come for as long'. They just said no. Which leads me to believe it's really just them being contrary bitches. )
So yeah, no real need to discuss that more thoroughly--they're just ridiculous. In more exciting, fun news, Henry was here last week. He was officially the first Kenyon person to mercilessly track me down and sleep on my couch--and it was really really cool. I'm always paranoid when people come visit me, because people judge. It's what they do. And no one's necessarily comfortable with the idea that their life is being given the once-over. Especially since I'm pretty sure noone from Kenyon would have imagined me playing with a fucking handpuppet for a living. But it works. For now. The weird thing was, having someone there made me see my life and where I live in a totally different light. I mean, you get used to anything (I've been told after 21 days), and I totally take all the cool things about Berlin and my life in general for granted. So having Henry here really made me see everything afresh. Or anew. Or whichever word you'd use in that context. I mean, my job pays decently, I live in an awesome city with an awesome boyfriend and yeah...it's pretty damn cool. Despite what I might write here.
Cool news of the moment is that Stephan got his slot in the biochemistry department at the Freie Universitaet, which has been his dream thing that's been on hold for the past few months. He was out of his head with glee last night when he got the letter. I'm ecstatic too, because it really is what he want to be doing. And there's not much cooler than that. So we toasted last night with Havanna Club (one of the beautiful things about not living in a country with a Cuban embargo: cuban rum) and rocked out over it.
Fortunately, I've got this week half-off, so I can catch up on communications/sleep that off. I've been emailing all freaking afternoon. It's been intense. And somehow, I don't feel all that productive. Probably because I'm putting off sending some pretty important onces...oops. Oh well. However, I'm banking on having more time to post later this week (probably a false assumption) and dishes are calling, so I'm going to go play housewife.
Friday, January 05, 2007
Happy, Healthy New Year!
Hello everyone!
I hope you all survived the holidays in your respective homes or places of residence. We were up in the M-V with Stephan's family, which was pretty lovely and only a tad stressful. It's unbelievably peaceful and rural up there--they live in an old farmhouse which they're slowly renovating. Aside from the unheated bathroom, it was a nice break from big city life. We got to spend a bunch of time in the Ha-Ro (Hansastadt Rostock) with Matthias and Stephan der 2. and the rest of the crew--which was hilarious and partially unbelievable--New Year's was a little bizarre--we partied with some new friends of ours and their friends--I got my ass flagrantly grabbed by the male host (who I assumed was gay...apparently not...). Stephan was pissed. Oops. Oh well. There was a lot of gin drinking, a lot of Mia and Matthias hanging out and drinking in the kitchen, the odd bit of mingling and my characteristic "I'm Mia the American" schpiel. I'm always in the kitchen at parties. I don't know why--it must be some weird Cancer thing. I like to be where the food is. Speaking of food, there was wild boar there. Delicious! I am officially a huge fan. It tasted like my godmother's potroast. And Karen makes a really awesome potroast. Of course, being in the Ha-Ro, we had to go to the Stadthafen for the fireworks at midnight. In Germany, everyone is allowed to shoot off their own fireworks, which was petrifying for me initially, cause you know damn well that everyone around you is wasted and shooting these things off-- but I got over it and got some really beautiful photos.
After the fireworking, we sat around for a little while longer, but they were airing the madonna concert on TV (who sits down and watches a madonna concert at a party?) and the party was kind of winding down anyway, so we split around 3.
My favorite part of the New Years festivities was, however our departure from the party. I asked Stephan to give me a piggy back ride. I do this when I'm drunk--some of you have humored me, some of you have witnessed the phenomenon...but being Stephan, he refused. About three minutes later, Matthias takes off his backpack and goes into piggy back position. Out of the blue. I'm a piggy back whore, so I jump on. And the drunken bastard carried me almost all the way home. I was afraid for my life, and had to hold on so hard, my arms were unbelievably sore the next morning. Apparently my boots drew blood or something--I don't know exactly how, but he had these wretched scrapes on his hips. I felt terrible.
H'm. What else? I got books and bedding and hair stuff from Stephan's family, which was awesome. Our bed is not half so ghetto anymore--but enough about the festivities. Here comes the meat of the post. The delicious, ridiculous gossip that makes this worth reading. Or not. Depending on your taste.
So our roomates. Ahhh, the roomates. We were all supposed to ride up to Rostock together--one big happy family, you know? Well, our plan was to leave at or around 5pm. So on friday, we're doing our thing, last minute shopping, packing, cleaning, etc. and a little bit before 4, Christian sticks his head in and is like "one of you has to do dishes. now. so we can leave." Stephan was like "oops, sorry, gotta go get ingredients for Christmas cookies, can't do it." to which Christian countered that no, there would be no shopping, we were leaving in 15 minutes at the latest. Which was news to us. So Cindy came home, wound up washing all the dishes that were there (which of course I feel bad about, but she puts herself in this weird-ass martyr position) and we all wound up spendning the two and a half hour drive up to Rostock in complete and utter silence. But I really thought this was just typical roomate bullshit, and that after spending a week and a half with our respective families, it'd all be water under the bridge.
Ding-dong, I was wrong.
The other day, they both stormed out of dinner after having words with Stephan about the heat being on too much. So yesterday, after dinner, they held this little intervention with us, listed off their conditions for staying in the apartment as our roomates. I just looked at Stephan and was like "ummm, yeah...thanks, but no." I mean, Christian got pissed because of the frequency with which I bathe/shower. Sorry, but I'm still wayyyy too American to compromise my hygiene in the name of thrift OR cultural understanding. I realize that water and heat and electricity are more expensive here, and I pay attention to how much I use, but who the fuck is he to tell me when I can or cannot take a fucking shower!? When that point came up, I just started laughing. It's all so ridiculous. I refuse to freeze my ass off in my own apartment, or live like I'm in the 18th century to save a few bucks. It's not my nature. I don't think I'm necessarily extravagant, but shit, man--there are limits! So the upshot is we've sent in our Kuendigung of the apartment--I don't know if you cancel a lease in English or if you terminate it or what the right word is...since I've never had to do it at home, but hopefully by the first of April, we'll be living someplace else. Alone. Not with freak-ass roomates who really think that I should be sharing bathwater with my boyfriend. Not even because it's erotic! Beause it's cheaper!
I don't want to say I saw this coming from a mile away, but I did.
And then, of course, because none of this is personal, and we're all just "different" from one another, we had to sit at our dining room table and pretend that we all think everyone is still nice and funny and charming when all anyone really wanted to do was phone a friend and vent. Or perhaps that's just me...
So what did we do? Being the ridiculous, slovenly, decadent sons of bitches that we are?
Stephan, his little brother Max and I drank a bottle of vodka. Does it sound excessively alcoholic to say that I felt much better afterwards? I felt bad for Stephan, because really, they were his friends, and despite what anyone's saying, things aren't going to be the same after we all move out. Cindy made a point of saying about eight times that we'll have to have a knock-down, drag-out when the heating bill comes next year, because they don't use any heat and we do. I am really proud of myself for not hitting anyone or saying anything that would have made the next three months any more awkward than they already will be. But yeah. Now that everyone knows WAAAY more about my living situation than they ever, ever needed to know, I feel better.
Thanks for letting me catharse. I will now continue to enjoy the rest of my vacation (I start work again on Monday...eeeeeeeeew.) and perhaps watch a few episodes of M*A*S*H, or some of Family Guy, season 4.
Rock your respective post-holiday weekends. Rock them hard.
.me.
I hope you all survived the holidays in your respective homes or places of residence. We were up in the M-V with Stephan's family, which was pretty lovely and only a tad stressful. It's unbelievably peaceful and rural up there--they live in an old farmhouse which they're slowly renovating. Aside from the unheated bathroom, it was a nice break from big city life. We got to spend a bunch of time in the Ha-Ro (Hansastadt Rostock) with Matthias and Stephan der 2. and the rest of the crew--which was hilarious and partially unbelievable--New Year's was a little bizarre--we partied with some new friends of ours and their friends--I got my ass flagrantly grabbed by the male host (who I assumed was gay...apparently not...). Stephan was pissed. Oops. Oh well. There was a lot of gin drinking, a lot of Mia and Matthias hanging out and drinking in the kitchen, the odd bit of mingling and my characteristic "I'm Mia the American" schpiel. I'm always in the kitchen at parties. I don't know why--it must be some weird Cancer thing. I like to be where the food is. Speaking of food, there was wild boar there. Delicious! I am officially a huge fan. It tasted like my godmother's potroast. And Karen makes a really awesome potroast. Of course, being in the Ha-Ro, we had to go to the Stadthafen for the fireworks at midnight. In Germany, everyone is allowed to shoot off their own fireworks, which was petrifying for me initially, cause you know damn well that everyone around you is wasted and shooting these things off-- but I got over it and got some really beautiful photos.
After the fireworking, we sat around for a little while longer, but they were airing the madonna concert on TV (who sits down and watches a madonna concert at a party?) and the party was kind of winding down anyway, so we split around 3.
My favorite part of the New Years festivities was, however our departure from the party. I asked Stephan to give me a piggy back ride. I do this when I'm drunk--some of you have humored me, some of you have witnessed the phenomenon...but being Stephan, he refused. About three minutes later, Matthias takes off his backpack and goes into piggy back position. Out of the blue. I'm a piggy back whore, so I jump on. And the drunken bastard carried me almost all the way home. I was afraid for my life, and had to hold on so hard, my arms were unbelievably sore the next morning. Apparently my boots drew blood or something--I don't know exactly how, but he had these wretched scrapes on his hips. I felt terrible.
H'm. What else? I got books and bedding and hair stuff from Stephan's family, which was awesome. Our bed is not half so ghetto anymore--but enough about the festivities. Here comes the meat of the post. The delicious, ridiculous gossip that makes this worth reading. Or not. Depending on your taste.
So our roomates. Ahhh, the roomates. We were all supposed to ride up to Rostock together--one big happy family, you know? Well, our plan was to leave at or around 5pm. So on friday, we're doing our thing, last minute shopping, packing, cleaning, etc. and a little bit before 4, Christian sticks his head in and is like "one of you has to do dishes. now. so we can leave." Stephan was like "oops, sorry, gotta go get ingredients for Christmas cookies, can't do it." to which Christian countered that no, there would be no shopping, we were leaving in 15 minutes at the latest. Which was news to us. So Cindy came home, wound up washing all the dishes that were there (which of course I feel bad about, but she puts herself in this weird-ass martyr position) and we all wound up spendning the two and a half hour drive up to Rostock in complete and utter silence. But I really thought this was just typical roomate bullshit, and that after spending a week and a half with our respective families, it'd all be water under the bridge.
Ding-dong, I was wrong.
The other day, they both stormed out of dinner after having words with Stephan about the heat being on too much. So yesterday, after dinner, they held this little intervention with us, listed off their conditions for staying in the apartment as our roomates. I just looked at Stephan and was like "ummm, yeah...thanks, but no." I mean, Christian got pissed because of the frequency with which I bathe/shower. Sorry, but I'm still wayyyy too American to compromise my hygiene in the name of thrift OR cultural understanding. I realize that water and heat and electricity are more expensive here, and I pay attention to how much I use, but who the fuck is he to tell me when I can or cannot take a fucking shower!? When that point came up, I just started laughing. It's all so ridiculous. I refuse to freeze my ass off in my own apartment, or live like I'm in the 18th century to save a few bucks. It's not my nature. I don't think I'm necessarily extravagant, but shit, man--there are limits! So the upshot is we've sent in our Kuendigung of the apartment--I don't know if you cancel a lease in English or if you terminate it or what the right word is...since I've never had to do it at home, but hopefully by the first of April, we'll be living someplace else. Alone. Not with freak-ass roomates who really think that I should be sharing bathwater with my boyfriend. Not even because it's erotic! Beause it's cheaper!
I don't want to say I saw this coming from a mile away, but I did.
And then, of course, because none of this is personal, and we're all just "different" from one another, we had to sit at our dining room table and pretend that we all think everyone is still nice and funny and charming when all anyone really wanted to do was phone a friend and vent. Or perhaps that's just me...
So what did we do? Being the ridiculous, slovenly, decadent sons of bitches that we are?
Stephan, his little brother Max and I drank a bottle of vodka. Does it sound excessively alcoholic to say that I felt much better afterwards? I felt bad for Stephan, because really, they were his friends, and despite what anyone's saying, things aren't going to be the same after we all move out. Cindy made a point of saying about eight times that we'll have to have a knock-down, drag-out when the heating bill comes next year, because they don't use any heat and we do. I am really proud of myself for not hitting anyone or saying anything that would have made the next three months any more awkward than they already will be. But yeah. Now that everyone knows WAAAY more about my living situation than they ever, ever needed to know, I feel better.
Thanks for letting me catharse. I will now continue to enjoy the rest of my vacation (I start work again on Monday...eeeeeeeeew.) and perhaps watch a few episodes of M*A*S*H, or some of Family Guy, season 4.
Rock your respective post-holiday weekends. Rock them hard.
.me.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Dance with me
Word. It's one of those Mondays that feels like hell. Sadly not because I was celebrating uproariously over the weekend, more like my wee children were ridiculous today. The whole "Christmas is in less than a week" thing has them set on screech. Some random parent visited one of my classes today, and I swear if I were her, I'd've taken my kid out on the spot. The kids were so insane! But enough of that--I'm actually lucky that I've got quite a few classes that have been cancelled this week. I don't think I could do a full week of insane children. I am so already on vacation.
I expected to be on duty with dinner tonight, but when I got home at 6, my roomate Christian was already making dinner. It looked and smelled suspiciously German...I'm wary after last night's dinner of green cabbage, sausage and potatoes. Cabbage is nobody's friend. There's really nothing outrageous to report here--no 6 year olds tried to steal my phone yet this week, or last week for that matter. I've been passing out candy and singing Christmas songs and explaining that "Merry Christmas" is actually an English phrase, and that Christmas stockings are stockings and not boots. Which is it's own kind of crazy kicks, I guess. Stephan went back to work today after having infected tonsils, among other things. It's weird having him gone--he was home for like, two and a half weeks. But it gives me time to finish up doing Christmas-y things. And time to update this...all kinds of time. Ooh! And time to listen to The Sounds, who are fabulous and retro and ridiculous. I overhauled my iPod over the weekend, hoping that a software re-install would do...something. But no, she's still as tempramental as ever. I'm in the market for a new mp3 player if anyone's heard anything good. I've decided I'm going to buy them like I buy sunglasses--me getting burned by my iPod absolutely marks the last time I'm dropping anything close to that amount of money on faddish and overrated technology.
On a decidedly girly note, I got a bunch of gift certificates to the main cosmetic department store over here, so I went in yesterday (yes, in Berlin during the Advent season, you can go shopping in most malls on Sundays. It's glorious.) and discovered orange blush. It sounds so much more gruesome than it actually is. It's translucent and far more subtle than a normal pink. In case anyone cares. I'm over it. What else is news? I watched this incredibly intense movie over the weekend called 'the Valley of Wolves'--the director was turkish and Billy Zane was in it--it was originally done in English, but I can't imagine it being easy to find in America--it was one of the most anti-Ami things I've seen in a long time. Like, really really hard core. I needed about four mammoth vodka and cokes to get me through the portrayal of my countrymen. At the same time, though, I'm really glad I had to chance to watch it--I don't agree with the perspective, but I can understand where they're coming from and the people making these movies are entitled to it. It's hard to convey the level to which the director portrays Americans as brutal, godless, insane and greedy--it's all of those things multiplied by ten thousand and then squared. Whew.
One last thing.
Submitted for the collective approval of whoever takes the time to read this:
I'm debating cutting my hair. Not shorter, cause I'm growing it out, but cutting more layers into it or getting long bangs or something. Thoughts? Questions? Comments?
out.
I expected to be on duty with dinner tonight, but when I got home at 6, my roomate Christian was already making dinner. It looked and smelled suspiciously German...I'm wary after last night's dinner of green cabbage, sausage and potatoes. Cabbage is nobody's friend. There's really nothing outrageous to report here--no 6 year olds tried to steal my phone yet this week, or last week for that matter. I've been passing out candy and singing Christmas songs and explaining that "Merry Christmas" is actually an English phrase, and that Christmas stockings are stockings and not boots. Which is it's own kind of crazy kicks, I guess. Stephan went back to work today after having infected tonsils, among other things. It's weird having him gone--he was home for like, two and a half weeks. But it gives me time to finish up doing Christmas-y things. And time to update this...all kinds of time. Ooh! And time to listen to The Sounds, who are fabulous and retro and ridiculous. I overhauled my iPod over the weekend, hoping that a software re-install would do...something. But no, she's still as tempramental as ever. I'm in the market for a new mp3 player if anyone's heard anything good. I've decided I'm going to buy them like I buy sunglasses--me getting burned by my iPod absolutely marks the last time I'm dropping anything close to that amount of money on faddish and overrated technology.
On a decidedly girly note, I got a bunch of gift certificates to the main cosmetic department store over here, so I went in yesterday (yes, in Berlin during the Advent season, you can go shopping in most malls on Sundays. It's glorious.) and discovered orange blush. It sounds so much more gruesome than it actually is. It's translucent and far more subtle than a normal pink. In case anyone cares. I'm over it. What else is news? I watched this incredibly intense movie over the weekend called 'the Valley of Wolves'--the director was turkish and Billy Zane was in it--it was originally done in English, but I can't imagine it being easy to find in America--it was one of the most anti-Ami things I've seen in a long time. Like, really really hard core. I needed about four mammoth vodka and cokes to get me through the portrayal of my countrymen. At the same time, though, I'm really glad I had to chance to watch it--I don't agree with the perspective, but I can understand where they're coming from and the people making these movies are entitled to it. It's hard to convey the level to which the director portrays Americans as brutal, godless, insane and greedy--it's all of those things multiplied by ten thousand and then squared. Whew.
One last thing.
Submitted for the collective approval of whoever takes the time to read this:
I'm debating cutting my hair. Not shorter, cause I'm growing it out, but cutting more layers into it or getting long bangs or something. Thoughts? Questions? Comments?
out.
Friday, December 08, 2006
A day in the life
So. Me again...here, writing to you. Etc. Primarily in sentence fragments.
One of these days, I will stop using this thing as a replacement for any and all forms of email communication. But I'm a terrible asshole when it comes to emailing. Not that I have a reason to be. My life is hectic and idiotic, but no more so than anybody else's. And I do realize that. But speaking of ridiculous and idiotic shit that has happened to me in the last week, I should tell you that I saw a three-year-old hit another three-year-old in the face yesterday, so hard that the second kid's nose started bleeding all over the place. And this was in one of the nice yuppie districs of Berlin. I was freaked out. You don't expect violence from little kids like that. But yesterday really wasn't my day. After seeing the kiddies beating on eachother, and having one wreck himself while allegedly in my care (I left the room to look for a missing child, and this idiot takes a digger on a pile of gymnastics mats in the corner and starts crying while also bleeding copiously from his nose. I win!), I go to my last school and proceed to get my cellphone stolen by a six year old! Here's how it happened. A new program was supposed to start in the Hort that day--some kind of choir, and a lot of the kids were sad, because it conflicted with English, which their parents had already signed them up and paid for. So they couldn't go. Two of them even started to cry. So I give them my phone and tell them they are the official timekeepers of the English class, because little kids like it when you give them extra special responsibilities like that, and I really didn't want to have them crying all through my class. So they stop. But being six, they lay my phone down on a chair while coloring, and some other kid picks it up and runs off with it. Of course, I don't see this happen, because I'm trying to bring some modicum of order into the chaos that is fourteen six year olds and an after-school English class. So once I realize my phone is gone, I stop everything and explain to the kids that it's not funny, that I'm sad that my phone is gone, but I'm not angry, and I just want it back. So we all look, and it's not anywhere in the room. My phone has literally vanished. After much looking and finger-pointing among the kids, this one girl comes up to me and says "Hey Mia, there are some blankets in the hall where someone could have hidden something, I'll go look." And I'm like, "no, that's silly. My phone's got to be in the room someplace, stay here." But she insisted, so I let her go. And I'll be damned if two seconds later, the little witch didn't bring me back my phone. Yeah. So that's the last time I trust small children, however cute, with ANYTHING. Consider that lesson learned. And picture this, of course: in the first nursery school I was at yesterday, they gave me a poinsettia for St. Nicholas Day. So for the next eight hours, I'm carrying this idiotic plant all over Berlin, and forgetting it literally every place I go. In every single other nursery school, in the copy shop, everywhere. And me running back like an idiot to pick it up. It was just one of those days where I had to step back from my life and think "this can't be real. this is just too bizarre." I mean, it really was like some kind of third rate film--the characteristic Bad Day.
In other news, last weekend Julia had two friends from the states in town--Graeme and Jason*, and Stephan and I got invited to a housewarming party on Saturday night. So we round up the crew and storm the party. Like whoah. We arrived at 11 and left around three, but there was chaos and carnage, man. And the fucking sony singstar game stole my soul. I always laughed at those commercials where people are at parties singing karaoke. I always thought it was dumb. Well, not once I've had a few gin and tonics, apparently. I was singing all kinds of crap--German, American...I so didn't care. Germans really enjoy "the eye of the tiger". I never knew, but mannnn, that was one of the burning memories I had from that night. And I woke up with "uptown girl" in my head. For whatever reason. It was an awesome party, weird singstar phenomenon aside. The next day, I got to do one of my favorite hangover things, which is namely to lay around and watch nordic skiing on tv. I think that's my favorite thing about Europe in general, is that shit like that gets airtime. It's such a wonderfully relaxing thing to watch. Not too loud, not too hectic, and if you've ever been a skiier, just exciting enough to merit watching. So, fabulous party at Christin's. Check. Ridiculous stories of children from this week. Check. What else?
*Notes on Graeme and Jason: Jason is a New York architect who is probably the dictionary definition of "cute and cuddly". He's also mailing my family my christmas presents to them, so he's A number one in my book. Graeme is a lady killer, hipster-bingo style. Totally charming and smooth, even when black out wasted. He managed to make out with Christin, whose older brother is a career soldier in the German Army, right under Kai (the brother)'s nose and not get murdered. I was amazed. Not that Kai is violent or typically "army" in any country's sense of the world, but he is very much the "are you really looking at my sister?" kind of guy. But lovely. Very nice.
H'm. What else is new here? I bought Stephan his Christmas present: the goofy shoes from the adicolor series. I'm now in the process of coloring them in with the little paint pens that came with the shoes. Of course the little goofys are tiny and the tips on the pens are freaking huge. Oh, the things one does for love. And the darling has tonsilitis and will probably have to have them out once he gets better. I'm imagining the nightmare that will be Stephan in the hospital for a week. He'll be bored out of his head the entire time. But there's not going to be anything for him to spend money on there, so that'll be an improvement...I think?
This weekend is our one year anny. It kind of weirds me out that we've actually been together this long. The year went by so incredibly fast. I have to wonder if all the years are going to go by this quickly from now on. They probably always have and I just never noticed. Of course this makes me think depressing thoughts like "am I doing the right things with my life?" and if all the years are going to go by this fast, am I going to wake up one day and think "sweet jesus--where has all the time gone?!" But that's kind of ridiculous. I mean...I'm not sure that thinking like that actually accomplishes anything, other than making me depressed and confused and unable to do anything other than contemplate all the things I'm not doing with my life. *Sigh*.
Enough of those thoughts. Stephan and Christian are musically reliving their childhoods, listening to bad German rap from the 90s and chick music from the same time. I'm debating taking advantage of the new extended hours the stores have during December to go look for an English book for Max, Stephan's little brother. Anyway, I'm out for today.
kisses.
One of these days, I will stop using this thing as a replacement for any and all forms of email communication. But I'm a terrible asshole when it comes to emailing. Not that I have a reason to be. My life is hectic and idiotic, but no more so than anybody else's. And I do realize that. But speaking of ridiculous and idiotic shit that has happened to me in the last week, I should tell you that I saw a three-year-old hit another three-year-old in the face yesterday, so hard that the second kid's nose started bleeding all over the place. And this was in one of the nice yuppie districs of Berlin. I was freaked out. You don't expect violence from little kids like that. But yesterday really wasn't my day. After seeing the kiddies beating on eachother, and having one wreck himself while allegedly in my care (I left the room to look for a missing child, and this idiot takes a digger on a pile of gymnastics mats in the corner and starts crying while also bleeding copiously from his nose. I win!), I go to my last school and proceed to get my cellphone stolen by a six year old! Here's how it happened. A new program was supposed to start in the Hort that day--some kind of choir, and a lot of the kids were sad, because it conflicted with English, which their parents had already signed them up and paid for. So they couldn't go. Two of them even started to cry. So I give them my phone and tell them they are the official timekeepers of the English class, because little kids like it when you give them extra special responsibilities like that, and I really didn't want to have them crying all through my class. So they stop. But being six, they lay my phone down on a chair while coloring, and some other kid picks it up and runs off with it. Of course, I don't see this happen, because I'm trying to bring some modicum of order into the chaos that is fourteen six year olds and an after-school English class. So once I realize my phone is gone, I stop everything and explain to the kids that it's not funny, that I'm sad that my phone is gone, but I'm not angry, and I just want it back. So we all look, and it's not anywhere in the room. My phone has literally vanished. After much looking and finger-pointing among the kids, this one girl comes up to me and says "Hey Mia, there are some blankets in the hall where someone could have hidden something, I'll go look." And I'm like, "no, that's silly. My phone's got to be in the room someplace, stay here." But she insisted, so I let her go. And I'll be damned if two seconds later, the little witch didn't bring me back my phone. Yeah. So that's the last time I trust small children, however cute, with ANYTHING. Consider that lesson learned. And picture this, of course: in the first nursery school I was at yesterday, they gave me a poinsettia for St. Nicholas Day. So for the next eight hours, I'm carrying this idiotic plant all over Berlin, and forgetting it literally every place I go. In every single other nursery school, in the copy shop, everywhere. And me running back like an idiot to pick it up. It was just one of those days where I had to step back from my life and think "this can't be real. this is just too bizarre." I mean, it really was like some kind of third rate film--the characteristic Bad Day.
In other news, last weekend Julia had two friends from the states in town--Graeme and Jason*, and Stephan and I got invited to a housewarming party on Saturday night. So we round up the crew and storm the party. Like whoah. We arrived at 11 and left around three, but there was chaos and carnage, man. And the fucking sony singstar game stole my soul. I always laughed at those commercials where people are at parties singing karaoke. I always thought it was dumb. Well, not once I've had a few gin and tonics, apparently. I was singing all kinds of crap--German, American...I so didn't care. Germans really enjoy "the eye of the tiger". I never knew, but mannnn, that was one of the burning memories I had from that night. And I woke up with "uptown girl" in my head. For whatever reason. It was an awesome party, weird singstar phenomenon aside. The next day, I got to do one of my favorite hangover things, which is namely to lay around and watch nordic skiing on tv. I think that's my favorite thing about Europe in general, is that shit like that gets airtime. It's such a wonderfully relaxing thing to watch. Not too loud, not too hectic, and if you've ever been a skiier, just exciting enough to merit watching. So, fabulous party at Christin's. Check. Ridiculous stories of children from this week. Check. What else?
*Notes on Graeme and Jason: Jason is a New York architect who is probably the dictionary definition of "cute and cuddly". He's also mailing my family my christmas presents to them, so he's A number one in my book. Graeme is a lady killer, hipster-bingo style. Totally charming and smooth, even when black out wasted. He managed to make out with Christin, whose older brother is a career soldier in the German Army, right under Kai (the brother)'s nose and not get murdered. I was amazed. Not that Kai is violent or typically "army" in any country's sense of the world, but he is very much the "are you really looking at my sister?" kind of guy. But lovely. Very nice.
H'm. What else is new here? I bought Stephan his Christmas present: the goofy shoes from the adicolor series. I'm now in the process of coloring them in with the little paint pens that came with the shoes. Of course the little goofys are tiny and the tips on the pens are freaking huge. Oh, the things one does for love. And the darling has tonsilitis and will probably have to have them out once he gets better. I'm imagining the nightmare that will be Stephan in the hospital for a week. He'll be bored out of his head the entire time. But there's not going to be anything for him to spend money on there, so that'll be an improvement...I think?
This weekend is our one year anny. It kind of weirds me out that we've actually been together this long. The year went by so incredibly fast. I have to wonder if all the years are going to go by this quickly from now on. They probably always have and I just never noticed. Of course this makes me think depressing thoughts like "am I doing the right things with my life?" and if all the years are going to go by this fast, am I going to wake up one day and think "sweet jesus--where has all the time gone?!" But that's kind of ridiculous. I mean...I'm not sure that thinking like that actually accomplishes anything, other than making me depressed and confused and unable to do anything other than contemplate all the things I'm not doing with my life. *Sigh*.
Enough of those thoughts. Stephan and Christian are musically reliving their childhoods, listening to bad German rap from the 90s and chick music from the same time. I'm debating taking advantage of the new extended hours the stores have during December to go look for an English book for Max, Stephan's little brother. Anyway, I'm out for today.
kisses.
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