Hamburg

Things here in Germany are going pretty well. I am teaching a lot, which is pretty cool, and of course, learning more and more German each day.

Some things I like about Germany (well, at least about Hamburg, since that’s all I know so far)…

1. Lots of garbage cans on the streets. This has brought me much unanticipated joy.

2. Escalators have motion-detectors on them, so if no one is using them, they are still. Energy-saving, for sure. Clever, definitely.

3. People say hello and goodbye when exiting and entering elevators. I like this.

4. I went to the doctor (in order to get health insurance, I had to get a check-up) and the doctor’s office and her examination area were all in one room. It was efficient. I like efficiency.

5. The bread. Holy mackerel is that stuff good.

6. The cheese. Delicious and inexpensive, when compared to the States.

7. Trains run all night on the weekends. Do you hear that, Boston????

8. Places I’ve always wanted to visit are only a few hours away! Namely, Berlin, which I will visit this weekend. ☺

On that final note, I have to pack. Have a good weekend!

mj

Arrival, Part I

I have writer’s block. It seems ridiculous to me that I haven’t written one million blog entries since I arrived in Deutschland 8 days ago, but alas, it is true. I have given this silence quite a bit of thought and have decided that there is simply too much to say, so I was sort of opting to say nothing at all. Much easier that way.

In hopes of getting the words rolling and the blogs coming, I am just going to start slow. So here is how it all went down, part one.

After a lot of planning, packing and crying, I left Boston on January 6th and headed to New York for two days. My original flight was cancelled at some point last autumn, so when I went to rebook the ticket, every itinerary was going to route me through New York, but for like, a gazillion dollars. I was like, screw that, I can get to New York for 15 bones on the Fung Wah or Lucky Star, so I figured I’d just do that and save myself some cash. Then, Jet Blue, being the awesome company they are, randomly gave me a $50 flight voucher for some silly reason, and I was like, screw taking the bus to NYC, I’ll just fly! I figured it would be nice to have a couple of days in NYC, still in the States, full of laughter, fabulous friends and good food. I was correct. Plus, it was really nice to spend my last two days NOT packing and running around like a crazy person. I was able to simply enjoy the time and ease on out.

The flight over was peaceful and I slept the majority of it. I have been blessed with the ability to sleep in pretty much any situation, regardless of my comfort level. Truly a gift. It’s like my superpower. That, and my ability to hibernate for hours on end. I’m like Super Sleep Girl or some shit. Slumber Woman.

I landed in Frankfurt on a layover and had to scramble to find my gate and get through customs in time to make my connection. I hit the first ATM I could find, because I was not able to find a water fountain in the terminal to refill my water bottle, and had to purchase a bottle. The Germans seem to think tap water is not exactly fit for consumption, but I’m not quite sure on this yet. They do dig their mineral water, no pun intended.

So yeah, hit the Geldautomat, got me some Euros and wasser and got ready to board my next flight. Flying over the country was beautiful—lots of hills and snow and sunlight, and a whole lot of “Holy crap, that’s Germany!!!” going on in my head.

My AMAZING friend Anna greeted me in Hamburg with a sandwich, some Apfelschorle and lots of sweets. Very kind of her.

The worst part of the entire journey was when I attempted to maneuver one of my gigantic suitcases and my carry-on bag onto the escalator. The carry-on contained my brand-spanking-new laptop and as I got on the escalator, it fell off the large suitcase and literally bounced, BOUNCED, down the entire thing. BOUNCED. I howled in laptop pain, anticipating the worst, but it was and is fine. A miracle.

I calmed down and we hopped on the train, which warrants an entire post, and headed to my apartment so I could shower and see the new place.

I think that is a good start, peeps. More soon.

Hope you are all well,
mj

A Decision Is Made

About a month ago, I decided I was not going to Germany. I was very overwhelmed. The economy seemed to be tanking, my job seemed much too precious to voluntarily abandon, and I got really, really scared—terrified, actually.

I was so deeply freaked out that I started covering my tracks, erasing the evidence that I had even been considering going in the first place. I was petrified that one of my coworkers would somehow stumble upon this blog one day and find out I had been planning on quitting and doing this stupid thing—moving abroad during an economic crisis—and I would have to explain myself. I regretfully erased several blog entries detailing my plans, my fears, and my growing excitement.

The self-censorship really bums me out, since I’ve decided to go for it after all. I am still really scared, but I’ve realized that I can’t control the economy. I can only control my own decisions. This may not be the right time for this adventure in terms of the economic climate, but it is the best time to explore this opportunity in my own personal timeline. And money is just money. You can’t take it with you.

So, I gave my notice at work last week and my coworkers have been incredibly supportive and kind. I never imagined they’d be so excited for me, and I feel hugely relieved to no longer be harboring secrets from them. Not talking about my plans was exhausting and I’m so glad I can be open and honest now.

So yeah, that’s the deal. Wish me luck, intrawebz.

Oh, and Shawn, CORN NUTS. Oh!!!! Also, can I just say how freaking thrilled I am that I don’t have to go to Germany and explain the decision to elect John McCain?

THRILLED.

Caffeine Is My Friend

I had a dream last night that me and a certain cute boy were dancing in the streets. Literally. Dancing in the streets. It was lovely.

Drove up to Ogunquit Beach this weekend with my family (man, do I love those babies). It was really nice. The sand was super soft and the water not too cold. I highly recommend this place, though the traffic getting there was kind of annoying.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about my caffeine addiction. It’s not good. Not good at all. I am a slave to caffeine and have been since high school. I usually have a cup of coffee on my way to work, a cup once I arrive, sometimes another before lunch (usually not), and one after lunch. So, three to four cups per day, but in my defense, I do cap my day’s caffeine consumption around 3:30.

About two months ago, with the hope that I might give up coffee for a while, I started drinking green tea for my first beverage of the day and it has been a refreshing change of pace. Green tea is easier on my stomach in the morning and easier to make the night before in my tiny little apartment, also know as The Box (The Box warrants a separate blog entry, I think).

I know my caffeine consumption, specifically my coffee addiction, needs to be curbed, but…well, I don’t wanna and I ain’t gonna. It’s not fair. I quit smoking and I sometimes feel like I’m still in the (very difficult) process of quitting smoking, so I shouldn’t have to quit caffeine too. Damnit. So that’s that. That is how I am going to rationalize taking little to no action to wean myself off this delicious junk. I shouldn’t have to quit two of my favorite vices simultaneously. It just isn’t fair.

One of my coworkers (I would say “superiors” but he is in no way superior to me) just asked whether I mind it when he calls me “sweetheart”. I stood there speechless, trying to figure out how to say, “Well, I probably wouldn’t if you didn’t stare at my chest all the time.” Instead I said nothing. Way to go, me.

Coffee time.

This Land Is My Land

Wow, Massachusetts. You continue to amaze me.

10 Years

Last night I returned from Chicago. From my 10-year high school reunion (by the way, will someone please remind me how to use hypens properly? And quotation marks. Thanks. Seriously, what is the deal with that crap? Why can't I remember that?).

Hi, Nicole. If you are trying to improve your English by this crappy blog, you are in for a major disappointment. You should talk to my friend Allison. Or my sister, GJM (write a blog so I can link to you!). They are both English nerds, and I love them.

Anyway, I went to my reunion and it rocked. Mainly because I decided that I was going to have a good time, regardless of how weird the whole thing was. And so, a good time I had.

Chicago in the summer is beautiful. It's been about 4 or 5 years since I was there when it wasn't the dead of winter. I'd forgotten how many outdoor cafes there are and how nice people in the Midwest are when the sun shines daily. Strangers in the Midwest are always like, 4-5 degrees nicer than strangers on the East Coast. Here, people are afraid that if you look them in the eye, they'll never be rid of you. In the Midwest, people pretend to be your best friend. And quite frankly, contrary to Ani DiFranco, when she says, "can't wait to get back to New York City, where at least when I walk down the street, nobody ever hesitates to tell me exactly what they think of me," I prefer that. I'd rather we at least pretend to be civil.

More when I've had a bit more sleep.

Peace.

I Love My Friends! And Canada!

I would like to take this opportunity to publicly thank Shawn for being an awesome human being and friend. He has this job where he does some stuff that I don’t completely understand, but regardless, one of the (freaking sweet!) perks of said job is that he gets free admission to concerts. And! He gets to take one guest! I am thrilled to report that as his one guest, I will be seeing Radiohead for the first time, for FREE dollars next month! Dag! Way to be nice and stuff, Shawn. Danke sehr!

I’ve never seen Radiohead but have always wanted to. I’ve been a fan for several years now and have heard their live shows are amazing, so I’m wicked psyched.

Also, in less than a week, I’ll be flying home for my 10-year high school reunion. It’s funny. I still call that place “home” when my entire family is here in Massachusetts now. Well, I still have some relatives in the Midwest, but my mom and sisters are here. The Chicago area will always be home though, and Boston will have to settle for being my second home.

My friend Melissa is a spiritual person who loves learning about all things. Period. All things. Anyway, I love her to pieces. She recently read my chart and told me she sees me as having three homes. Chicago, Boston and then one I haven’t found yet. Maybe it will be a city in Deutschland? Only time will tell.

Oh, back to the high school reunion. Man, I am so excited! I can’t wait to see my ladies! We are going to dance the night away. It’ll be good times, I’m sure.

Anywhoooo….I hope you have a great day, wherever you are. And hello to my readers in Canada and Deutschland! Dude, seriously, Canada loves me. I don’t know what it is. I get more hits from Canada than the States. So, here’s to you, Canada! Cheers!

Tootin' My Horn

When I quit smoking, approximately one year and seven months ago, I was really concerned that I’d gain weight. In all honesty, the potential weight gain had been one of the many excuses I’d employed over the years for continuing to smoke. When I was finally ready to quit the sickorettes, I figured that if I put on few extra pounds, that would not matter, so long as my lungs were repairing themselves. I used to cough a lot. A lot. It was really gross. Man, I do not miss that.

Anyway, I digress. I did gain weight – about ten pounds, to be exact. I chewed a lot of gum and toothpicks to keep myself from snacking mindlessly, but the number on the scale kept climbing. I recently read somewhere that smokers burn an additional 200 calories per day due to an artificial metabolism boost. So when I was still puffing away, my metabolism was deceptively fast. Plus, I smoked a lot more than I ate. I can’t even count the number of evenings I sat on my porch, reading and chain-smoking and then I’d realize I’d missed dinner, so I’d just have another cigarette.

Well, times have changed and I am so happy to report that I am finally, after a year of lots of ultimate frisbee and a lot less beer, back to my pre-quit weight! Woohoo!!! Dang. That feels good.

Oh, and I’ve been meaning to post a link to the quit meter that I so often mention in this blog. You download the program, enter your quit details (date and time of quit, number of cigarettes per day you average, cost of a pack) and each time you start the computer, a little window pops up, telling you how long it has been since you quit, how much money you have saved, how many sickorettes you’ve not smoked and how much life you’ve saved. It’s neat. Check it out.

Happy Thursday, friends! Have a lovely day and a safe 4th of July.

Holy Molars! I Feel So Lucky!!!!!!

I went this afternoon for my root canal appointment and was ready to shell out approximately $800 on the procedure. When I first found out I needed a root canal, I felt as though I'd been punched in the stomach. My financial situation is always fragile, and I was already feeling pretty overwhelmed, so finding out I'd have to put another huge payment on my credit card totally freaked me out. Not to mention, the second part of the procedure, the crown, was quoted to me to be roughly $1,300. Ugh. Double punch.

So I have been totally bummed out, but had basically come to terms with the money. Then today, I go to the appointment, the dentist does a whole mess of diagnostic tests and discovers that I don't need a root canal after all!!!! The problem wasn't even the tooth my dentist or I thought it was, for crying out loud. My dentist sent me to a specialist to determine whether I needed the root canal, and to do it if so. So yeah, it was a totally different tooth causing me the pain. The specialist filed down a couple of cusps on the problematic molar and ta-da! I'm all better! It's insane.

The best part (aside from the real best part, which is that I didn't have to have my tooth gutted and then the second best part, which is that I don't have to pay for a root canal or a crown), the part that makes me feel like the Universe just smiled (three times) down on me, is that she didn't charge me. She did 7 or 8 x-rays and spent over an hour with me and she didn't charge me. Holy crap, right?! I am so incredibly thankful.

So yeah. I feel very lucky. Thank you, Universe.

I'm Totally Hibernating

Boston's public transportation is really quite good, but there are certain things about it that aggravate me to no end. My main issue with it is that everything stops running around 1:00. I think the T should at least run until all the bars close, but hey, I don't make the stupid rules.

When I hang out at my favorite Irish pub, like I did Friday night, in order to get home, I have a ten minute walk, 3 trains and a bus ride ahead of me. On a very good night, I can do it in about an hour. Friday night, I boarded the T around...12:50 and finally got home around 2:15. I guess that's not too too bad really. It was interesting though.

See, what happened was, I decided to do the 3 trains and then catch a cab, since I figured that would be quicker than waiting for the bus (the bus runs really infrequently that time of night). My cab driver, however, was driving at approximately 5 miles per hour. So, I asked as nicely as possible, "Um, excuse me, sir, but could you please drive a little bit quicker?" He sort of laughed me off and slowly explained to me that driving faster was not going to get us through this red light any quicker. We kept hitting lights and it kept not making any sense to go faster. I felt like a jerk, so I apologized and explained that it's just that money is tight right now and I'm impatient by nature.

We started talking and the conversation progressed to politics and then to family and life and people and all things deep and inspiring at 2:10 in the morning. His name was Eddie, he was from Haiti and he was sweet. He told me I am "a young woman of solid substance" and that if his daughter had half the sensibility I have, his life would be so much different.

Wow. I really needed that. I have been feeling kind of down lately, so I welcomed his flattery with open arms. It was really nice speaking with him, even if I was in that cab for 45 minutes instead of the 10 I was anticipating.

I slept until I couldn't sleep another moment on Saturday. Finally got out of bed around 1:30. I have a cold and am Captain Snot right now, so after running a couple of quick errands, I holed up in my apartment and watched 8 or 9 hours of television.

Today, I started the day with some laundry, then finished it with some wine and painting. I have never really tried my hand at painting, but I was pleasantly surprised to discover how much I enjoyed spending the evening doing it. That, coupled with the big bowl of dumplings I just had, really made today a good day.

I love being alone and having weekends like this. Where every decision I make is all mine and I can do whatever I want. Sometimes, the idea of having to incorporate someone else's ideas/agendas with mine kind of freaks me out. I almost feel like I've been single for so long that I no longer know how to be in a relationship at all. I'm terrified of having to compromise my freedom.

Is that weird? Am I just making excuses or something?

I don't know. Whatevs.

Ubuntu

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/5388182.stm

The word comes from the Bantu languages spoken in southern Africa - and is related to a Zulu concept - "umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu" - which means that a person is only a person through their relationship to others.

Books Are Cool

I'm currently reading The Pilots Wife, by Anita Shreve. I've read a few of her other books, and they definitely cannot hold a candle to this one---where did that come from? "Hold a candle?" Huh. The first person who can explain the origin of the aforementioned phrase will earn 5 Cool Points.

You know how when you're little, you don't really, truly understand what is happening? Like, for instance, a family member dies, and you are too young to really comprehend what has happened? Yeah, like that. You go through your life, trying to explain to others what went down, and as the years pass, you realize you've got the story all wrong?

Well, Ms. Shreve does a brilliant job of verbalizing this:
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"The more Kathryn learned about Jack--and she had no doubt now that she would learn more...--the more she would have to rethink the past. As if having to tell a story over and over, each time a little differently because a fact had changed, a detail had altered. And if enough details were altered, or the facts were important enough, perhaps the story veered in a direction very different from its first telling."
_________________________________________________________

Books affect me and I hope they do the same for you, dear readers. Go forth and read. READ I tell you! Read!

Snippets I've Enjoyed

While rummaging through an old journal, I found the following quotes which I transcribed from Tom Robbins' book, Fierce Invalids Home From Hot Climates, during the summer of 2000. Enjoy.
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The pumpkin is a faceless head, its true identity know only to the Halloween knife and certain deputies of the pie police.
*
Domesticity shrinks the soul of a beast.
*
People of zee wurl, relax.
*
Her eyes were like chocolate-dipped cherry bombs with their fuses lit.
*
All depression has its roots in self-pity, and all self-pity is rooted in people taking themselves too seriously.
*
None of us is much more than a pimple on the ass-end of creation, so let's not get carried away with ourselves....Accept that you're a pimple and try to keep a lively sense of humor about it.
*
The sun rapidly resumed wilting them with its nuclear halitosis.
*
In a universe where flux is fundamental, it can be argued that even change for the worse is preferable to no change at all.
*
Extinction is a consequence of overspecialization.
*
They awoke the next morning wound in the rusty anchor chains of hangover.
*
No one would ever blast a hole in the magic tutu of her childhood.
*
No artist worthy of the name gave a flying fuck whether or not any special interest group--miniscule or multitudinous, benign or malicious--took offense of their heartfelt creations.
*
The people who get to name things have psychological ownership of those things.
*
The universe is organized anarchy.
*
I like to drink just enough to change the temperature in the brain room.
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I adore Tom Robbins. I actually got to see him in New Mexico during the tour for Villa Incognito. He read an excerpt and during one of his pregnant pauses, I couldn't restrain myself and shouted "I love you Tom!" He looked right at me (at least I think he did--he was wearing dark sunglasses) and said "I love you too, baby."

I nearly died.

Ha Ha, Subway Bitch!

So I get on the train this morning and sit next to a woman reading the Metro. I pull out my copy which I have already opened to the puzzle section so I can do their sudoku puzzle. She is scoping me out me in that way that fellow train riders will do. Looking off to the side at my paper without moving her head. She is calm for a brief second and then I watch as she starts frantically flipping pages to get to the puzzles. Bitch wants to go! She is going to try to BEAT me at my own game. A challenger!

Bring it.

She starts furiously scribbling in numbers, seeing as how I already have at least a two minute headstart. She is seriously trying to finish the puzzle before me and I am getting all nervous and shaky. I've never had a sudoku race! I can't believe she is making me sweat. So I pull out the big guns and really, really focus on the puzzle. I have to pause for a moment to thoroughly survey the grid and I know she thinks she has me. Bitch don't know what she got comin'.

After a second, I make a major breakthrough and finish the game before we get to Kendall MIT. Ha. She is still trying to solve it through Charles MGH. Park Street is her stop, so she folds up her paper with the incomplete grid, puts it in her bag, and quietly accepts defeat.

HA! A little healthy competition is a great way to start a Friday.

Anyone want to have a sudoku tournament?

The Worst Haircut Ever - A Follow-Up

So, if you've read my last blog, you already know that Bruce bought me a gift certificate to a salon in Allston (which shall remain nameless).

Throughout my life, I've randomly decided to chop my hair off. I never plan this. I walk into a salon and tell them, "Uh....just cut it all off. But make it cute if you can." I just get so sick of it. It's hot and high maintenance and annoying.

So, I get the gift certificate and go down to get a cut. I decide at the last minute to cut it all off, again. The man cutting my hair speaks very little English and, I think, assumes I'm a butch lesbian for whatever reason. He gives me a boy's cut. Not at all flattering and really, quite crude. I just sat there loving it. Like I said before, I was going through "the plan is to have no plan" phase, and I figured I would deal with the consequences of his butchery later. I reasoned, "Well, what am I gonna do now? Paste the hair back on?"

He offered to put a bit, A BIT, of orange hair goop into my hair. I was like, well, we've come this far, you might as well go for it. He put it in. It was supposed to provide colored streaks throughout my hair but you could barely see it. He decided I needed more. I just laughed as he started pouring this gel onto my head. It was just too funny to do anything else.

Soon, my head was this slick, spikey, bright orange mass that I was ashamed to say belonged to me. The gel man was laughing his face off, trying to make me look....like I don't know what. An asshole?

I paid for the haircut, laughing hysterically the entire time and as I walked home to my apartment. I had no idea what had just happened. I went straight to the shower and watched the water run down my body, bright orange, until it ran clear.

I got out of the shower, and though I was now orange gel free, I was stuck with this ridiculous haircut.

Well, what are you gonna do?

Bruce, Bruce, Bruce...What Have You Done?

For one year of my life, I lived in the delightfully infamous Allston, Massachusetts. For those of you unfamiliar with this area of Boston, take my word, it can be a bit overwhelming. It's crowded, noisy, dirty, filled with drunken frat boys, and during the summer, hot damn, does it stink! But given the right state of mind, Allston can be a friggin' blast. I had a lot of happy, scandalous times there. What follows is one of the most bizarre stories that I took with me when I left.

I worked at a bagel place about 5 minutes from my apartment and sometimes, just to mix things up, I would cut through the back lot of the apartment complex across the street from my place to shorten the trip. The path was well-worn and lined with trees, bushes, and weeds. Walking it infused my days with a little bit of trash-infested nature and I loved it.

One day after work, I'm cutting through, minding my own business and I turn the corner and suddenly, it's as though I walked into a fully furnished room in the middle of the woods. There was a homeless man sitting in a recliner, smoking a joint. He smiled at me with his big toothy grin and said, "Welcome to my living room!" The dude had literally set up a living room in the back alley of this complex in a matter of eight hours (I walked through that morning as well). He had a table, several chairs, decorations...the works. I was like, "Oh, okay. Right. Hi. How's it going?" I was in the middle of my "it's all good/the plan is to have no plan" phase, so I just rolled with the punches.

His name was Bruce, he fought in Vietnam, and had been homeless for many years. He had a heart of gold and a lot of garbage-picked furniture that he shifted from alley to alley to avoid getting arrested. He liked to feel at home, so he would set up this make-shift living room all over Allston, never staying long enough to draw too much attention to himself.

I really enjoyed my time with him and began to see him everywhere. He invited me to lunch one day and we sat and chatted. He pulled out a thick wad of cash and bought my meal for me. I was broke and living off stale bagels so I thanked him mightily. It feels weird to have a homeless man buy you lunch when you are employed full-time but, nevertheless, consistently flat-broke. I was very grateful.

He knew where I lived and worked and started showing up at the bagel shop with presents for me. He brought me flowers and little trinkets, and soon my boss was taking me aside to discuss Bruce's seeming obsession. I told him he was harmless, and he was.

One day Bruce came to me and said he had something for me. He handed me a gift certificate from this Brazilian salon down the street and told me, "Get yourself something nice. Get one of those manicures or pedicures or something."

All I could think was, "A homeless man bought me a gift certificate. A homeless man bought me a gift certificate!?" What the hell? Right? I insisted he take it back and get a refund but he whole-heartedly refused. I eventually (reluctantly) accepted his gift and used it to get what ultimately became the worst, most disappointing haircut I have ever received.

I left Allston not long thereafter and never saw Bruce again. Last time I was there I asked another man on the streets what happened to him and he said he was in prison. Not sure what happened, but I wish him all the best. He was a good egg.

The Good in This World

( 2/3/06)

While I was living in New Mexico, all of my CDs were stolen out of my (ex)boyfriend's truck while it was sitting in a mechanic's lot. I lost every single one of my favorite discs. It was a devastating realization to discover I suddenly owned not a single piece of familiar music.

I called my family and told them all about it and without asking, my fabulous sisters copied everything from their music collections that they thought I would like. In a matter of a couple weeks, I received by mail about 100 new CDs, including many old staples and many unknowns. I was struck not by how many CDs I now had--which by the way was more than I had owned originally--but rather, by how friggin' awesome my sisters are.

My family is the good in my world.

Other good things in my world include:

Friends (you know who you are and I love you all)

Ketchup

Coffee

People who are NOT spatial idiots on the train and in other public realms

Craigslist

Sleep

Apricots

Cheese, cheese, and more cheese

Wine

Gatorade

Slippers

Long johns

Feather pillows

Aveeno Chapstick

Cherry tomatoes

Pilot pens

Fiction

Sunny winter days

There is much good in the world. Recognize your good and love it.