Indeed.

Disconnected indeed. As of yesterday, I have internet again... why? Because I *ahem* forgot to pay my telephone and internet bill. Which isn't that impressive given the fact that (1) I work in the Finance Department and (2) I'm the church accountant. Things like that make me wonder what else I've "verpennt."

Naja.

On the positive side, I've finished reading Reaching for the Invisible God by Yancey (recommended by a friend), which has helped me sort through some crap and has shed new light on a few Issues. Things are starting to make sense... that is, they're actually not making sense... I'm just learning for the Nth time that I can't understand everything and that I'm not God. How much longer is it going to take before I get it?

I've been feeling antsy lately, like something needs to change. That's dangerous. In the past, that feeling has led to changing schools, moving to foreign countries, or taking chocolate out of my diet.

Yancey wrote that Truth is extreme. It's neither "in the middle" nor at one extreme... it's BOTH extremes. At the same time. That's kind of how my life is at the moment. One moment I feel extremely happy, like I could conquer the world, but the next moment I want to drive my car into oncoming traffic. One moment I feel loved and understood (it's a weird feeling), but the next moment I think it's impossible for anyone to love or understand me. One moment I want to help everyone, be there for everyone, but the next moment I have to be alone. It's like internal manic episodes.

A friend celebrated her Birthday last Tuesday, which was fun. (I'm glad you decided to do something after all!) :) It was both weird and nice being in a group of girls my own age. I only have a couple girl friends my own age (though one is 3 years younger).

Last night was hilarious - I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. Two friends were in Denmark on the Logos Hope for a couple of weeks, and they got back last night. And they brought a guy from Sri Lanka with them. Talk about butchered-ship-slang-English. I about died laughing.

The doorbell rang last night at about 20:30

Mary: "Who's there?"
Unknown Person: "Will you go to Denmark with us?"
Mary: "Of course!!"
Person: "Ok, let's go."
Mary: "I'm in my PJs, let me put some jeans on first."
Person: "So are you going to let us in the building, or should we wait outside?"
Mary: "Is it raining?"
Person: "Yeah."
*runs downstairs*
Mary: "I missed you."
Person: "I know."
Mary: "So when are we leaving?"
Person: "Can I have something to eat first?"
Mary: "Raspberry-blackberry yogurt?"

I have the weirdest conversations. But I think a few of us are going to drive to Denmark next Sunday... the Sri Lankan dude has to get back somehow, and now we have an excuse to make another roadtrip. :)

I've figured out why I'm so passive sometimes: because I hate making mistakes and hate hurting people. I'd rather do nothing than do the wrong thing. Though doing nothing is itself sometimes the wrong decision. Double jeopardy! Sometimes I can't do anything right.

The world is good. The world is fallen. The world can be redeemed. Life is kind of the same way, I think. Ah, the dichotomy of it all.

Disconnected?

So... I'm kind of freaking out because my phone isn't working and I wanted to call my Dad. I'm definitely unable to make phone calls, and I'm afraid that I'm also unable to receive calls. Strangely enough, the internet is working, meaning they haven't totally disconnected me.

Ok. I admit I pay my bills late almost every month... but do I really deserve this?

I just want to talk with my Dad! Nothing more, nothing less. :(

One possibility would be to run up the church phone bill by making international calls... I am the church accountant after all... so I could calculate a monthly average and then pay the difference in July. Desperate times call for desperate measures. :)

Anyway. Those who might try to reach me via the land line (Festnetz), you can forget it for the moment.

Slowww Motion

I feel like my life is moving in slow motion at the moment, which is odd because time has the tendency to fly. And I feel like an outside observer - watching myself move from one confusing situation into the next. It's weird. Like an amateur theater piece whose plot and characters I can control and influence to a certain extent.

Sometimes I kind of want out. And when I think about it, it wasn't even my decision to be here in the first place. Sometimes I feel like I'm in the wrong place. Or the wrong continent. Or the wrong century. Or the wrong planet. Or the wrong dimension. But that's a topic we'll leave for another day.

Dots and Lines

Which Monet painting do you like better? And why?






This is more important than some of you might think. Each painting represents a different path of life, a different set of decisions, a different manner of thinking, a different way of interacting with people. I think one of these paintings is going to be my "Theme" painting (usually I have a theme song or saying) in the next phase of life.

And now the burning question is which one.

Yup.

I need something tangible, something visible, something concrete. Like dots and lines from the 19th century.

Life.

*takes a two-week-or-so break to write other things*

What's one to do...?

I just want to be...


... I think the spaced- out- dreaming- slightly- emotional- romantic- in- the- unromantic- sense- idealist is somehow becoming stronger. And the fact that I'm not alone on this psyched- out- free- falling- wavelength doesn't help the situation. Or maybe it does. It depends.

I love the sea. I love when the sun's shining and you can float in the water. I love watching the waves when it's over-cast and windy. I love looking into the vast distance. I love racing bare-foot across the sand.

Sometimes there are moments in life you wish would never end.

I've had people tell me they can't imagine what Heaven would be like, wondering what they'll be doing for eternity, and whether or not it will be boring. I don't understand that kind of thinking. Though I'm the first to confess my own extreme pessimism, I also have to say that I've had enough (I can count them on one hand, probably) moments where I wished time would just freeze for eternity and I'd be happy.

La la la.

Ca-la-la-la-lais

This weekend was slightly out of control. To make a long story short, a friend and I decided Saturday morning to spontaneously drive to Calais, France. After making it through Belgium and France, my poor sweet Scaramouche freaked out at a gas station at 3:00 AM in Holland and wouldn't start.

Have any of you tried to sleep in a car at a gas station on the German-Dutch border? Not cool. Especially with a faint stench of brie in the car.

But at least the landscape was beautifully green, the windy picnic in the hills was lovely, and we got to splash around in the English Channel. Life doesn't get much better than that.

I'll post some pictures later... I think I'm going to go to bed now. Yay for sleeping in my own bed as opposed to a Volkswagen passenger seat.

House-hunting and Revenge and Strawberry Ice Cream

A decision has been made! I've decided to go with Letter C on the second question, meaning I'll be rolling in the dough in a couple of months. You don't believe me? Wait and see. Frau Barber the Money-Laundering Monster is about too have her revenge for the chauvenistic office crap she's been forced to deal with.

Which means... I'm going to have several million extra Euros floating around. So I've decided to purchase a house. A couple of weeks ago I was with my friend Penelope (hehe, you probably won't like that code name) in Krefeld and we found a couple of potential houses.


A pink mansion... what could be better? I think that if I lived there, I'd always be happy and sweet and summery. Like strawberries & cream ice cream. Maybe that's the answer to life's questions: eating strawbery ice cream on the front porch of your pink mansion and thinking happy thoughts.

No, seriously, I wouldn't really want to live in a mansion... it's too large, too "spiessig", and too much work.

We continued walking down the street and came across the cutest quaintest little cottage... now that's the type of house I'd seriously like to live in. But not in the middle of the city... in the middle of the country.

And I'd have a strawberry patch in the garden in the back. Is this not the most adorable little house?

Anyway...

Strawberries are sweet, but revenge is sweeter. Muahahaha.

Floating, Falling...

I feel like I'm wading in very dangerous water. It's like this: a while ago, I somehow got distracted while wandering down this winding path called Life and ended up standing on the side of a river.




I realized I had wandered from the path, but it looked safe enough until I faintly saw a sign in the distance. Instead of turning back to continue on the path, I made my way toward the sign, to discover "Deadly Current" written in hand-painted red letters. Again, instead of turning back, I decided to simply feel the water with my finger-tips. Nothing harmful, of course. And then I decided to cool my feet. Before I knew it I was wading. Now I'm standing in the water, feeling the current pull me further away from the riverbank, and wondering whether to throw myself in or to turn around. But is it too late to turn back? Would I even find the way back to the original path? Is there really a Point of No Return?

This picture was taken in Hollandia, by the way.

Work Vocabulary Test

Though I've been here a couple of years, I still have a ton to learn vocabulary-wise. Especially at work. Yes, I can speak German for the most part, but there are still quite a few words I've yet to learn.

Here are some words I've learned at work recently... just normal every day words.

der Rechtsverdreher: Lawyer

I always thought "Rechtsanwalt" was "lawyer", but was evidently wrong.

das Irrenhaus: company headquarters

der Henker: Boss

Doesn't "Chef" mean "Boss"? This was slightly confusing.

der Verdacht: suspicion

seine Pappenheimer kennen: to know your co-workers

abzocken: to rip off or screw

(I'm not going to even say in which context this was used.)

die Einzelwertberichtigung: bad debt

Yay for long German words.

willkuerlich: arbitrarily, at random, haphazardly

(This word should be non-existent in a Finance Department, if you ask me.)

Hopefully this'll give you a taste of what goes on at work. :)

20k!

Yup. Twenty-freaking-thousand. Plus a few more.

Hey people looking out the window...

... at the city below. Hey people looking out the window, you'll be gone tomorrow.



This is what Springtime looks like through the church window. Not that I was distracted by a Certain Someone during the sermon and was taking pictures. I've always liked huge open windows... especially stained glass ones in gothic cathedrals. My life, though, has more walls than windows... thick brick walls that no one understands or can break through. Nothing like pretty open sunshiny windows where you can feel the colours of Spring. Nope. Dark, towering walls that have taken years to build, and will probably take years to crumble, if at all. Yes, I love being dramatic. And I'm seriously doing wonderfully well (in the emotional sense). Otherwise I couldn't write this kind of stuff.

On a lighter note, I almost drove off the edge of a hill on a moped today. A friend has a new moped and wanted to teach me how to drive it, and I agreed to do so on the condition that he sit behind me and make sure I don't total it (or myself). After driving a few rounds, he told me to give it gas, and then he jumped off! I about had heart failure.

What's with guys saying one thing and doing another? Would someone please explain this to me?

On an even lighter note, I'm trying to learn metal piano. There's nothing like a metal band gone soft (think: Hello or Good Enough by Evanescence. Now THAT'S what I call a work of art).

Oh where, oh where, oh where to go?

Ok, it's time for a Blog Poll because the Blog seems to have taken a turn, and I'm not sure where we're headed in the future. And I'm not sure what my Dear Readers would prefer reading. So... some feedback from you all would be nice.

Please fill out the following questionnaire and return it to me by a strict deadline of your choice. Feel free to select multiple answers.

Mary and her Blog should:
(a) return to light-hearted writings about cultural and language issues, and every-day experiences in the foreign country that is Germany. Forget the psychological drama.
(b) focus more on the Psychological, as she's done in the past several blogs. The weirder, the better.
(c) come out of the closet with her poetry. The darker, the better.
(d) write whatever she feels like on any given day. Who cares?
(e) quit writing. Who reads this crap anyway?
(f) other: ______________________________________

Mary should:
(a) quit work to start a band and live in a van down by the river
(b) plan her vacation around meteor showers
(c) climb the corporate ladder, turn into a money-laundering monster, write a book about how she did it, and retire next year
(d) move to Fiji. Or Somalia. Or Macedonia
(e) go on Ritalin
(f) other: ______________________________________

Hello. Hello! Hello?

I've reached a new level of over-analysis. Over-complicating and over-analyzing even the simplest of things has always been one of my hobbies (or obsessions? or addictions?). As Syd once said, "Why Simple when it can be Complicated?" And I completely agree. Though I do have to admit that it's sometimes a complete waste of mental energy.

Nonetheless.

My newest Analysis Project consists of two little letters (well, one is capital) and an exclamation point. Who would have thought that my past would come back to haunt me in such a simple, unexpected, bizarre form? Not I. But then again, we all know that my life is anything but normal, tainted by a shadowed past and a recently-discoverered-self-constructed-walled-in present.

*crumble crumble crumble*

It's a mystery.

Life is a work in progress... or a work in destruction, depending on your current state and point of view.

At least I can joke about it - that's a huge step, and it proves that I can deal with stuff and move on. "Moving on" encompassing everything from the occasional psychological success to bailing out to a foreign country. Sometimes you just have to take a leap and pray you'll fly.

In the Sky with Diamonds...

Lately I've felt like I'm on a mixture of creative trip and energy high, and I can't explain it. Maybe it's the talking, or the writing, or the extra time, or Sebastian, or honesty, or the Music, or being understood to a certain extent.

A lot is going on, and quite a bit of it is rather draining... but then again, that's much different than drowning, which is what normally happens.

I also feel more free than ever before... like certain things aren't tying me down and suffocating me anymore...

... the wall is slowly crumbling, and it's a beautiful thing.

I think I'm paranoid. And complicated.

I feel understood. Really understood. It's a strange, good, terrifying, weird, relieved, creepy feeling and I don't know if I like it. I'm supposed to be misunderstood... complication is my claim to fame, after all.

I don't understand.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

To translate, "Mary's freaking out because certain people understand her to a certain extent and she's not used to it, and she feels like she's gone too far intellectually and emotionally. She wants to write about it on her blog cause it's a big deal to her, but she can't find the words to express it, so she generated random Latin text and posted that instead. She might even be losing her mind."

Am I weird?

I know where the Summer goes...

Could someone please tell me where the Summer is? Has she lost her way? Has she given up? Were the winter winds too strong?

I think I'll write a song about it...

The Past

It's coming back to haunt me! But that's ok because the present is both bright and manageable and the future is... em... I don't know yet.

As Beck would say, "Man weiss es nicht."

I think...

... that to truly experience/understand something, you have to have experienced/understood it's opposite as well.

... music is the ultimate form of expression. Words are an expression of the mind; melody is an expression of the soul; and rhythm is an expression of the heart. Music seems to be a combination of all three.

... that death is necessary for changes and new starts.

... that driving 219 km/h (136 mph) with a company Audi on the Autobahn is pretty darn cool.

... outward appearances are very deceiving, and we should be careful jumping to conclusions when it comes to people.

... black and white is sometimes more beautiful than colour.

... that certain issues like suicide and hate and depression and wrist-slitting and death and anorexia and darkness shouldn't be such taboo topics.

... that happy plastic Christian circles are super-dangerous.

... honesty is sometimes a life-and-death matter.

... that I'd like to have an antique black piano with candle holders.

... it's impossible to understand certain aspects of life and answer certain questions. The first step to sanity is accepting this impossibility, this limitation.

... I ought to re-read the Chronicles of Narnia.

... that my maturity is conversely related to my age.

... that one of the best feelings in the world is being understood.

... it'd be nice to have an older brother. I'm kind of everyone's big sister here, which is great, but sometimes I wish I had my own big brother (in the non-Orewellian sense). An older sister would be nice too... but for some reason I've always wanted an older brother.

I think the German Cops want me dead...

For some reason, I keep having run-ins with the German cops (Part I, Part II). Am I that corrupt of a citizen?

The other night around 23:45, I was riding my bicycle home, and the light was out - that is, I couldn't figure out how to turn it on. It's evidently illegal here to ride your bike at night without a light. And, of course, I ran into the cops on my way home. Again.

Cop: "Excuse me Miss, why isn't your light on?"
Mary: "I'm afraid it's broken."
Cop: "Then you're going to have to walk home, Miss."
Mary: "Walk home in the dark, pushing my bicycle?"
Cop: "Unless you want to pay a 10 Euro fine, that is."
Mary: "Fine, I'll walk home."

Seriously, folks - what's more dangerous: riding your bike a few blocks without a light or walking the streets alone at midnight? It was so ridiculous. So I walked about 20 feet, checked to make sure the cops were gone, got back on my bike, and rode home as fast as the cold, dark winter wind would carry me. And I think I'm going to buy a CD with the 10 Euros I saved. MUAH.

Picture Update

It's been a while since I posted pictures... so here are some lovely pics of my sisters and the youth. :)



First, the infamous Hartmann Sisters.


Here I am in the Center of the Universe with Mariposa... she'll be back in town in the summer, which I'm looking forward to. I think we're going to take over the world.


Here we are again... and notice my lovely new shoes. I actually wore them to work last Friday with a black business suit. Hehehe.


This was at a little pub in Moers... we girls wanted to take a picture, but a Certain Young Man kept getting in the way.


As you can see, we managed to take a picture anyway. :)


This picture is actually from last year... but it's terribly important because that's the evening I was inspired to learn to play the guitar. :)

Identity Crisis

If anyone thinks they've had or are having an identity crisis, please come and talk to me. We could start a club. An exclusive club. A club that defines our identities, thus solving the crisis. Tell me this isn't a brilliant idea.

Quite often I feel like things don't fit... I'm either too young (at work) or too old (at church), too mature or too immature, too American (here in Germany) or too German (in the States), too complicated, too analytical, too quiet, too introverted, too thin, too concerned or too apathetic, too girlie (pink's not the evil it once was) or too feministic (don't even get me started), too well-behaved or too corrupt, too knowledgeable (sometimes I know stuff I oughtn't) or too confused (ah, the unanswered questions)... and the list goes on.

Everything and nothing fits together perfectly imperfectly.

Seriously, though, I've been having a hard time knowing where to draw certain boundaries, and what my role and responsibility in certain situations is.

So what's a poor, confused girl to do? Other than write poetry and eat chocolate, that is.

Sweden, anyone?

I'm thinking of taking a trip to Sweden... maybe to the Malmö area. Anyone ever been there or have any suggestions?

Another lovely Day at Work

Well, today's just another Help! normal day at work I'm being held hostage in the lovely city of Krefeld against my will!. As most of you know I'm trapped we have our monthly bookclosing and can't escape!, which is going absolutely splendid, with no major problems. Just thought I need contact with the outside world! I'd give everyone an update.

If I didn't care about losing my job, I could write some rather amusing stories, *tee hee*.

Narnia and Formulas and... Something... (and laundry detergent)

Sometimes I feel like I'm missing something... something critical, something interesting, something obvious, something lovely... Something. It's as if I'm seeing, but with blurred-black-and-white vision, or hearing, but only a limited, muffled range of tones, or breathing, but the air is thick and stale (ok, maybe it's cause I have a cold). I think a healthy dose of Narnian air, sword-fighting and dancing in the moonlight would help.

As funny as it may seem, though, I've learned quite a bit over the past several months by spending time in Narnia and the surrounding lands and seas, and from listening to the stories of Aslan, Peter the High King, Prince Caspian, and many others. Sometimes fantasy has more to do and say about real life than reality. You can read non-fiction, religious literature and Christian philosophy* all day long, but there's nothing like a nice, concrete metaphor to make sense of life.

I've decided to copy Don Miller and take the Stance Against Formulaic Pop Christian Thought. Life's not a list of formulas, methods, rights and wrongs. There are no concrete steps that, if followed, will have the expected results. No, life is more like a song or a poem, each person singing their own voice or writing their own lines... to be combined by the Author into a harmonious symphony or a brilliant poem. Which we will neither see nor understand until the end, of course. If at all.

Just thought I'd share... it took a journey through the bright, sweet lillied-waters at the World's End to realize this... so you guys had better take it to heart. :)

On a different note, my neighbors seem to think that I supply laundry detergent for the entire appartment, which has gotten to be rather annoying. I wanted to do laundry the other day and didn't even have enough detergent for a complete load. I'm thinking of mixing flour or cappuccino powder in with my detergent... or would that be too cruel?

See, if I were a Narnian Dryad, I wouldn't even have to do trivial things such as laundry.


*not to bash Christian philosophy... certain readings have helped tremendously... it's just that it can all be so pompous and theoretical sometimes.

I'll write you a Song, my Dear

There's seriously almost nothing in the world I'd rather do than play the piano. This weekend, everyone ended up in the Center of the Universe, and a few of us spent literally hours at the piano - playing, composing and singing. It was absolutely beautiful.

In life, there are sometimes moments that you wish would never end, and I think that was one of them. Bizarro Mom always says that I live from "Luft und Liebe" (meaning "air and love")... but I'd argue that I live from music as well, in a way.

There's some killer talent at our church... a couple of us are even working on some of our own pieces and such. And working in a group can sometimes be even more inspiring (and fun). The only thing that was missing was Syd, but despite the fact that we miss him, he's doing the right thing (though some might argue that he ought to become a philosopher as opposed to an engineer).

The International Melting Pot That Is Headquarters

One of the funniest things is meeting people you've written and telephoned with, but have never actually met or seen in Real Life. You have certain ideas of who they are, how they look, and how they carry themselves... which are often quite incorrect. I e-mail and talk with several colleagues from Headquarters on a regular basis, and had the pleasure of meeting them live and in person for the first time this week. I also had no idea which nationality they were (sometimes you can't tell by the name), so that was interesting finding out as well.

So...

... I've worked with people from the following countries this week:

Holland

Germany

Spain

Portugal

Japan

Macedonia

Indonesia

Pakistan

England

Turkey

At other times I've worked with people from:

Norway

Sweden

Finland

Austria

Switzerland

Belgium

France

Greece

Italy

Australia

China

South Africa*

Brazil*

Taiwan*

America*

Our Headquarters is seriously a cultural melting pot, which is great. And of course everyone speaks in a butchered English (sometimes I do too!), but at least we understand eachother for the most part. I've also realized that people tend to understand me better when I put on a fake British accent. Maybe it's because they all learn British English in this part of the world.


*back in the BenQ Siemens Days.

Back to Holland (or, the Chivalry Soapbox)

Beck and I are going to be in Holland again this coming week kicking some major business butt. So, if I don't answer the phone or the door, then that's why. This time Marketing Guy won't be there *sniff* but it'll still be fun.

Which reminds me that I wanted to spend a few minutes on the Chivalry Soapbox.

Chivalry is almost completely dead, which I didn't realize until spending a week in Holland with Marketing Guy. Sometimes you have to experience something good to realize that something's lacking. The opposite is of course true as well.

Anyway... at first I thought the door-opening and the letting-the-ladies-go-first and the walking-on-the-side-of-the-street and the helping-with-the-jackets was coincidental, so I decided to put it to the test. I probably shouldn't test people like that, but it's kind of irresistably interesting sometimes. And he passed with flying colours.

First, a background story: I wasn't always pro-chivalry... as a matter of fact, I was a rabid little feminist girl at one point. It started around the 5th grade, with a very polite young man at our church who was a couple of years older than me, and who always made it a point open the doors for the ladies. We had huge double doors at our church, and one Sunday morning as I approached the doors, he rushed in front of me to open the door for me. Any nice, normal little girl would have smiled and thanked him politely, but not me. I looked him square in the eyes, walked to the other door, opened it myself, and walked into the building. For whatever reason, I concluded that his gesture was unecessary, that I was perfectly capable myself, and that this ought to be made clear to him. Of course my parents didn't approve when they found out later, and we had a nice long talk which resulted in me apologizing to him (though I didn't mean it at the time).

As I've gotten older, however, I've realized and come to terms with the fact that men and women are different, that this is ok, and that this is even the way things are supposed to be.

A certain realization helped me come to terms with this... but that's a topic for another day.

I think it's unfortunate that chilvalry is dying out, though I can't pinpoint exactly why I think it's unfortunate. Which is also unfortunate. Maybe because it shows a certain respect which is often lacking in our society. Maybe because we should be embracing and enjoying differences instead of trying to deny them. Maybe because it's actually more freeing for women to be treated well.

Sometimes I feel that though we, as women, have gained a certain amount of equality (though we're still far from equal), we've sacrificed much of our dignity and respect. It was a sort of sorry trade-off, in a way. I don't want guys treating me like "one of the guys" or as a complete equal. I don't want guys to feel free to discuss any topic or make any joke in my presence. But I do want to be treated slightly differently - and respectfully.

And two weeks ago in Holland, things somehow fit together in a weird way. Whenever the door was opened for us, or whenever I was encouraged to move to the front of the line, I felt like I was being told, "We're different, but that's a good thing, and instead of denying it or ignoring it or making fun of it, it's something I respect. After you."


***IMPORTANT NOTE***

I'm not saying that any of the men or young men I know are impolite or bad-mannered in any way. It's just that this one particular young man was so very consistantly and noticeably polite and helpful, and thus made me realize that chivalry as a whole is practically non-existent.

***END OF IMPORTANT NOTE***


If anyone's interested, Ms. Barber's Refined School of Chivalrous Manners is now accepting applications for the Fall Semester.

I think that's enough for today.

*steps off the Soapbox*

Fab Four

Some pictures we took over Christmas have finally been uploaded... this year, for whatever reason, we didn't take as many pics as usual. Oh well.







I love my chicas. We're all sisters, and all within a couple of years from eachother age-wise, but we're all so different - from personalities to interests to ways of thinking to looks.

And now only half of us are in Texas, we all have different goals, we all kind of have our own lives, and growing up is just plain weird.

To dye or not to dye...

... that is the question.

I'm considering dying my hair black, like Duchess Ravenwaves.

One test-strand is already black (kind of like that blonde streak I had back in the day when Kat dyed her hair blonde)... and I kind of like it. Now the question is whether or not I should go all black.

Thoughts?

Beck thinks it'd be too much because my skin is fairly pale, and maybe she's right. But then again, maybe black is the new blonde, and maybe pale is the new tan. My Japanese boss has jet black hair and pale skin... though I wouldn't quite call him a fashion guru.

Work and Life and Ranting and Raving and Smiling

Sometimes people at work don't seem to understand that I have a private life, and that I sometimes have things to do outside of work. And sometimes other people (non-work) don't understand the extent to which I work, the challenges I deal with at work, and the toll it sometimes takes on me.

So, basically, since I'm the only one with the Big Picture here, I guess I'm the only one who can make my own decisions and set my own priorities, which I've been doing: both at work and outside.

The other day was rather frustrating - I had quite a bit to do, things to take care of, and expectations to meet. And certain people* were making me feel an immense pressure. A month ago, I would have literally cried my eyes out. But now? I'm slightly annoyed. Nothing less, nothing more. And because it's all not do-able anyway, what did I do? I pulled the plug on the phone, turned off the computer, put on some comfy PJs and read a book.

Last year, I felt frustrated and trampled on and used up and tired and sad for 8 out of 12 months. And I'm not playing that game anymore. I lived in Survival Mode for way too long, and now it's the end.

Anyway. It was a nice evening.

And I'm slowly feeling sane again.

Which was one of the 2008 Goals.

*check*


*it was no one who reads this blog, and no one who's directly related to someone who reads this blog

Heavenly Chorus?

The other night as I was laying in bed, about to drift off into wherever it is we drift when we sleep, I was awoken by a Heavenly Choir. At first, the singing was rather faint, but with each second it grew louder and more clear.

As I lay there, I knew it was the end of the world, and I somehow took comfort in that supposed fact.

The Choir was singing in German, which surprised me... I somehow expected Heavenly Choirs to sing in Latin or in Aramaic or in Tongues. But German? Though theoretically, by definition, they could have been singing in Tonuges, and I happened to understand it as German.

Anyway.

As I was pondering and enjoying the Chorus and waiting to somehow float up into space, I was surprised to suddenly hear them go fuzzy. And then they got a little more quiet, and then fuzzier, and then they stopped alltogether and I heard a booming voice announcing the weather.

I sat up in bed, thought for a minute, and realized with disappointment that my neighbor had his television on and had evidently just changed the channel.

Yeah... sometimes some of the screws are slightly lose... especially in that lovely stage between wake and sleep.

Annoying neighbor. Turn your stupid television off.

Oh, say, can you see...

Is this not the best picture*?


My sister Kat moved to Washington, DC a couple of weeks ago, and as you can see, she's had some free time on her hands before starting work this Monday.

For my Dear German Readers, yes, as most of you have learned in your English classes over the years, that's the US Capitol. And yes, you can evidently frolic on the front lawn if you feel like it (and if you have a frisbee, and if the country isn't on Red Alert).

That's my Kat.

I'm super-proud of her - she's aced her nursing board exams and will start working at the hospital ER this week. If anyone has the right personality and people-skills to work in such an environment, it's her. She's always been relatively calm and collected. And she stays under control, thinks clearly, and can make wise decisions in high-stress situations.

Sometimes I wonder if we're really related. Ha.

Like I said, I'm really proud of her, and am excited to hear about how things work out for her. Yay Kat. :)


*photo courtesy of Kara Payne

Concert Withdrawals

So... I learned today that Matchbox20 is doing a so-called "Winter 2008 Tour" (link-a-link). And who else but Alanis Morissette herself will be touring with them??? And not only is Alanis touring, but MUTEMATH (my newest band obsesssion) will be touring with them as well. I about had a heart-attack when I read it.

I'm actually considering, em, flying back to see them (yes, it's an admitted sickness)... they're in Texas on the 28th and 29th of February... which would be a month from today.

Can someone explain to me why I'm here? And why Alanis and MUTEMATH are touring together? In Texas? Two hours away from my parent's house? Can someone please explain this to me?

And Rob Thomas isn't too shabby, either.

Seriously, if any of my Dear American Readers have the opportunity to go to this concert, go. I'll be forever jealous, but that's ok.

I guess singing with Scaramouche on the way to and from Krefeld will have to do for the time being.

Unless I find a cheap flight.

Hollandia Report

We really had a great week in Holland... my team of co-workers knows how to work hard and how to play hard, and let me tell you: we did both.

We worked pretty long hours (long hours for a seminar, that is), but accomplished quite a bit. There were certain Target Values we had to calculate and generate with the new system, and we managed to manipulate the system to hit it right on the cent. It was a beautiful moment.

For the first three days of the seminar, I managed to keep my identity hidden: everyone (except my German co-workers, of course) assumed I was a German. As an American, there are certain stereotypes people have of me, and I simply didn't want to deal with those this week. I've also noticed that people's view of me often changes when they figure out where I'm from. So. Other than our team and a few Austrians, there were no native German speakers. And other than two or three Brits, there were no native English speakers. Which means I effortlessly had everyone believing I was a German.

Until we went out for Japanese food one evening... which was for me, in a way, a coming-out party. In a cultural identity sense, of course. I don't remember what prompted the comment, but for some reason, I made the statement that I'm an American. Our Japanese colleague from "Inc" (so he's one of the top guys) was completely baffled and didn't know what to do with that piece of information.

Mr. Inc: "Ahhh you American? But you born in Germany, yes?"
Mary: "No... I was born in America. I'm definitely an American."
Mr. Inc: *stares at me* "Ahhh...so you Father is American?"
Mary: "Yes..."
Mr. Inc: *thinks long and hard* "And you Mother is American?"
Mary: "Yes, both my parents are Americans. I'm an American. I have sisters who are Americans. They live in America. I'm the weird one who lives in a foreign country, which happens to be Germany."
Mr. Inc: *scratches his head* "Ahhh... so you not German... so you real American."
Mary: "Yes, a real, American-born American. With an American citizenship and passport and credit card. The only thing German about me is my freaking driver's license."

And then came the Comment of the Evening:

Mr. Inc: "Ahhh... you were so quiet at the beginning of the seminar and you were only speaking German... I thought it was because you could not speak English."

At this point, Marketing Guy and I were laughing so hard, we almost spit Green Tea and raw fish all over the table.

*switches topics*

One thing that's great about Holland is the medication: not only is it cheap, but you can buy it everywhere. It's like in the States, except with a few more options thrown into the general mix. One lunch break we decided to drive to the local grocery store. I loaded up on Vla (a special kind of pudding), Dr. Pepper (yup, this is for you, Mariposa), and Ibuprofen. And at half the price? Stock me up.

All and all, it was a great week. I learned a ton, got to know my co-workers better, got to make some connections with some European Headquarter and Inc people, started reading yet another book, and laughed way more than usual.

Amstelveen, watch out!

Beck and I are going to be in Amstelveen, Holland on business this coming week... so please direct all calls and e-mails to my secretary while I'm out. Wait... I am the secretary. It's my second job. Which is why it took quite a bit of convincing and threatening before our boss decided to let both of us go.

But it only makes sense.

Germans tend to be rather private people. They have their "work life" and their "private life" and those spheres rarely overlap. In the business world, you rarely "talk privately" with co-workers... it's only the few and far between who know anything that goes on in your "private life."

Which is why I feel like my relationship with a certain co-worker, Marketing Guy, is moving wayyy too fast. As he's driving with me and Beck to Holland this week, I gave him, upon request, my cell phone number and my address (so they can pick me up). And now I feel weird, like he knows too much. He's nice and clever and hilarious and all. But all that needs to stay at work.

I guess I'm kind of trapped in the mentality here.

Or maybe I still have issues because of Stalker Boy.

Or maybe I just have issues.

Hmm.

Bad Cop! No Donut! (Part II)

So... I got pulled over today for running a pink light (ok, maybe it was a little closer to a deep-magenta-rose). I considered showing the cops my Texas license, hoping to confuse them and avoid paying a fine... but then I remembered that I'm technically not even supposed to have my Texas license. Which I of course don't have. And which I of course didn't illegally obtain last Christmas because the American authorities have no clue. It's all about being a respectable, law-abiding German citizen here.

German cops are ogres in green suits with toy guns. And they drive matching green MINI VANS!

Not only do I have to pay a ridiculous fine, but I have 3 points. Ah, the lovely German traffic violation point system. With five points, I think you win a teddy bear... and with ten points, you win a new CD-player for your car. At 13 points your license is unfortunately taken away, and you have to return the teddy bear and the CD-player.

Now it's going to be even more difficult to avoid speeding and running red lights and stop signs because I have to rush to work to put in more overtime hours to pay stupid traffic fines.

My life is a freaking circle of death.

Work (or, I think I'll stay for a little while longer if I can...)

Work is hilarious and out of control and challenging and fun and weird and frustrating and crazy and other adjectives I oughn't use. And if I expound I could risk losing my job prematurely.

So... we'll leave it at that.

A surprising number of people have asked me lately if I plan on staying in Germany (I must be giving off weird vibes)... so I thought I'd give everyone a little update. I'd originally had three years in the back of my mind. Siemens gave me a three-year Visa, so I thought I'd stay for that period of time and then re-evaluate things.

Right now I'm at about the 2.25 year mark.

My contract at Canon expires in June 2008, but my living permit expires well before then - April 2008, if I recall correctly. Which means I need to know around February or so whether or not they're going to extend my contract so that I can take the necessary steps to renew my living permit (or not).

If I'm offered an extended contract, I think I'd sign it. I wouldn't sign it in blood, but I'd sign it. If I'm not offered an extended contract, then I think I'd try to move to DC where Kat is. Or maybe Fiji. Or Somewhere Else.

Man weiss es nicht.

But I think I'd like to stay here for a little while longer.

Here comes the Sun...

It's amazing what a series of intense conversations (in English!) with my Dad can do. The past several months have been rather trying for me, and being home over Christmas and having time to sit and talk things through with my Dad was definitely what I needed.

He and I think very much alike, and he's dealt with a lot of the same crap that I'm having to currently deal with. So, though there are rarely simple and immediate answers and solutions (if at all), at least I know that I'm not alone here and there's someone out there who cares and understands. It's not that others don't - it's just that Dad has always played a very special and important role in this crazy thing called My Life.

I almost even feel good now. For the first time in a long time. It's a nice, weird feeling.

Homeward bound...

Thought I'd write what could possibly be my last blog entry, as certain people seem to think that my plane is going to crash into the Atlantic.

*shrugs her shoulders*

2007.

What a year.

I've lived, thought, experienced and felt so much this past year; it's impossible to put it all into words. It's been a rollercoaster of a ride, and I feel dizzy and confused from it all.

2008.

It's coming, and rather quickly.

I have no idea what it's going to bring, but I do know that it absolutely must bring certain meaningful changes.

That's my two cents on life.

Another break...

*decides to take another blog writing break*

Just so my Dear Readers know not to expect much of anything until then...

"Then" being January or so at the latest.

Choir Concert

Our Choir is giving a Concert this coming Sunday, so whoever would like to come, it'd be great to see you there. The music is based on text written by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a pastor known for his courage during WWII.



Der CisDur-Chor singt Texte von Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Sonntag, 18. November 2007, 17 Uhr

in der FeG Schwafheim

Düsseldorfer Straße 280, Moers

- Eintritt frei -

Herzliche Einladung

You live, you learn

I've been learning a lot about life lately. A-lot-a-lot-a-lot.

It's weird, though... there are certain things I know that I really shouldn't know and that aren't really my business. But when it comes to certain things I'd like to know and understand, I somehow can't make any progress and am left staring blankly and stupidly into space.

Oh well.

At least this weekend was two straight days of comic-relief. I absolutely love everyone* here... everyone is so beautiful and quirky and funny and impossible and creative and complicated and eccentric and perfect in their imperfection.


*everyone in my little group, that is

German Sisters :)

It's about time for some more family pictures... this time, of my beautiful German sisters. :)



I love my girls...



And here we are with our brothers...

Universal Deadlines

When I was 17, I met a 24 year old who influenced my life and way of thinking and way of interacting with the world tremendously. And by tremendously, I mean tremendously. He was actually in the process of writing a book at the time.

Mary: "What's the main theme or topic in your book?"
Someone: "The Universe."
Mary: "The Universe? Would you like to expound?"
Someone: "Simply the Universe. Life. Beginnings. Ends. Questions. Whys. Everything. The Universe."
Mary: "Hmm..."
Someone: "I'll send you a copy when it's finished."

And then he left for the mountains to think and walk and figure things out, and I left for the university (horrid institutions, according to certain philosophies), and the Universe somehow continues its chaotic spin.

At that time (when I was 17, that is) I told myself that I'd like to have the Universe figured out as well at 24. If he can figure it out by taking midnight walks, staring into space and smoking cigarettes, then I ought to be able to do the same.

But somehow...

As I was driving home today and thinking about how little I've actually figured out and how disgustingly meaningless most everything is, I remembered that I not only missed our Original Budget 2008 Sales and Cost of Sales transmission deadline, but I've also missed my self-set deadline for unlocking the secrets of the Universe.

Darn idealism.

Oh well. Maybe next year.

And I'm still waiting for the book.

Optigem Schulung in Rade - wer will mit? Macht doch SPASS!

This is for my Dear German Readers...

...habe diese Woche ne Einladung zu einer Optigem (das ist das Program, was ich für die Gemeindekasse verwende) Schulung in Radevormwald bekommen. Die Schulung findet am 24. Oktober November* Dezember von 10:00 bis 16:00 Uhr statt.

Eigentlich soll ich dahin, da ich *ahem* ab und zu einiges falsch buche und nie eine richtige Einarbeitung fürs System hatte, aber Scaramouche und ich wollen nicht allein dahin. Muss irgendjemand an dem Samstag auch nach Rade? Hätte jemand Lust, mitzufahren? Würde jemand die Kasse übernehmen? Ne, Scherz.**

Wenn ja, dann meld dich einfach. Wenn nicht, dann schauen wir mal was wir machen.


*that's for you, Huckleberry :)

**kind of

Work and Teamwork

If there's one thing I've learned from working with my colleague... let's call her Beck... it's what teamwork really is. When I started my job at Canon, the first thing she told me was that she wanted us to be a team.* Instead of having clearly defined tasks and roles, she wanted us both to be able to do everything, and to decide monthly and spontaneously who does what. She also wanted us to share our knowledge and keep one another updated and informed.

It sounded good in theory, but I wondered it if would actually work out practically... and let me tell you, it most definitely has.

What is teamwork?

It's a mind-set, a mentality, a "we", an "us." It's sharing. It's balancing one another out. It's doing a little more when someone else does a little less. It's letting someone do a little more when you need a break. It's even taking hits for other people.

When it comes to work, Beck never uses the word "I" - it's always "we." Whether positive or negative, she always says "we." I knew it wasn't just talk when I overheard her speaking with one of our colleagues and taking the blame for something that I had mis-calculated. She said that we had evidently made a mistake, and that we would would look into it and re-calculate it. I was shocked... I apologized and told her that it was my fault, but she said that we all make mistakes, that it's ok, and that we're a team.

At that point, I knew she was serious about it.

We also share everything - whether it be information, online folders, dealing with certain colleagues, rulers (she shared her green one with me until I ordered my own) or chocolate. We both have a weakness for dark chocolate and marzipan, and between the two of us, we always have a stash for crisis situations.

Another classic example was the variance analysis we had to do for September (accumulated! Help!). It was much more complicated than in the past, so we literally spent two complete days working together at my desk on my computer. Sure, we could have split it - she could have dealt with certain channels or accounts or cost centers and I could have dealt with others... but we decided to do it together and to talk everything through.

Sometimes I feel sorry for our other colleagues because Beck and I will often talk almost the entire day... but so far no one has complained. :)

This intense teamwork took me a while to get used to, but slowly I've changed to the "We Mentality" as well, and I really enjoy it.

Beck has been at Canon for almost 30 years now, so she definitely knows the ropes. She's been a mentour, in a way, in the professional realm (though we can also talk about non-professional stuff). I've learned so much from her, and I'd even go so far as to say that it's an honour to work with her, and to be on her team.


*well, the very first thing she told me was that we could use the "informal you" with one another... so I liked her from the beginning. :)

Sebastian

On Friday, Scaramouche and I were pretty anxious to get home. We'd received a letter (which we presumed was from Sebastian) the day before, asking us to please meet him at the Post Office in Neukirchen. We rushed home, rushed to the Post Office, and sure enough, there he was waiting for us.

I'd met him a couple of weeks ago in Cologne, and we had a great time together, so I was definitely excited to finally see him here in Neukirchen. Though it was a little weird at first.

On Saturday, he met a couple of my friends, and then on Sunday, I brought him to church and introduced him to several people, and they seemed to like him ok.

I kind of want to take tomorrow off and spend the day with him, but I unfortunately have to work. But I think he understands, and I know he's happy just hanging out with John, Paul, George and Ringo in my appartment.

WWII Stories from Mariposa's Grandmama

Last Wednesday was a national holiday here in the Vaterland, which means we all had the day off, all the shops closed down, and half of Nordrhein-Westfalen drove into Holland.

Mariposa, Scaramouche and I, however, drove to Cologne to visit her Grandmama. It was great seeing Mariposa again, talking about what's going on in our lives, and spending time with Grandmama.

At one point, Grandmama started telling stories about World War II. She was in her late teens and early twenties during the War, and seems to have no problem reminiscing and sharing her experiences. It was fascinating. I've always heard War stories from the American side, so hearing her stories was definitely eye-opening.

Here's some of what she shared with Mariposa and me...

All the girls had to do a civil service year, so she and some friends spent a year helping out on a farm. At the end of the year, they were told they could go home, but of course there was no transportation. So, carrying what little they had in their suitcases, they trekked the 600 km home to Stuttgart. Almost everything had been destroyed. Sometimes the streets were no more than a couple of feet wide, meaning you had to squeeze your way through the rubble.

They would travel during the day, and then stop somewhere, anywhere, in the evening. Sometimes someone would give them a piece of bread or some sausage, and sometimes they wouldn't eat anything. Sometimes they'd sleep in a barn or an inn, and sometimes outside. Along the way home they met a woman who had an old baby carriage that she gave them. Grandmama said it was wonderful to have the baby carriage - that way they didn't have to carry their backpacks or suitcases anymore.

Towards the end of their journey home, Grandmama and her friend were sitting outside and resting one evening when a black American soldier approached them and offered them a chocolate bar. As much as they wanted it, they turned it down, being too proud to receive any help from an American. The soldier turned away, hurt, and continued on his way. After he left, Grandmama and her friend asked eachother if he had maybe misunderstood them and thought they had turned the chocolate down because he was black. Which they hadn't done - they had turned it down because they only wanted help from fellow Germans. So they decided to run after him and accept the chocolate bar. In broken English, the girls explained that they'd changed their minds and that they would like to have it after all. The soldier was so happy to give it to them, Grandmama recalled.

It wasn't until after the war that Grandmama knew about concentration camps and what had been done with the Jews. There weren't many Jews where she grew up, and of course the crimes weren't made public, so she had no way of knowing.

Her Father (Mariposa's Great Grandfather) had three Jewish employees in his business, and right before the war, he advised them to immediately leave Germany, if possible. I guess he saw what was coming. Only one of his employees took his advice, fled the country with his family, and survived.

In their town, there was a large white house where Jewish children stayed. I'm not sure what it was for (I should have asked!), but I assume it was some type of children's home or orphanage. During the war, however, the children were taken away, Grandmama recalled. Everyone was told that the children were going to be taken to a better, newer house.

On their journey back home to Stuttgart, Grandmama remembers seeing people in black and white striped suits working in the fields. She stopped and asked someone who they were and what was going on. The answer? They're criminals, serving their time in civil service. If a government official tells you this, there's no reason why you wouldn't believe it.

The Russian soldiers were some of the worst, she said. Russia was so poor at the time (except for a few select rich) that the Russian soldiers plundered everything. They took everything from food to metal to rails from the railroads. She laughed as she told us one thing the Russians were notorious for doing: washing potatos in the toilet. They didn't know what a western toilet was, so they used it for washing vegetables. You always knew the Russians had been there when the toilet was stopped up with potatos, she said.

At the end of the war, her Dad was very ill. She received news that he was in a hospital in Dresden (if I recall the city correctly). The fact that she had no idea which hospital he was in didn't stop her from going to find him. She finally found him packed in a room with about 20 other extremely sick people. When he saw her, he started crying, she recalled. Fortunately, he was released and taken home in an ambulance, but Grandmama had to walk home by herself.

Towards the end of our conversation, she said that "we lost the war..." and her tone of voice was surprisingly more melancholy than thankful or relieved. I wanted to ask if she thought it was a good thing that Germany lost the war, but for some reason I didn't.

Listening to such stories is important because the past can be so easily forgotten and seen as impersonal and distant. History is something we're usually forced to read about in a textbook, or something we're tested on in school, which means we all too quickly forget that it's more than memorized dates and names. History involves real people: it's the story of our parents and grandparents, the story of the human race. It's our story.

I never knew my own Grandparents that well... either because they passed away when I was pretty young, or because my family lived so far away.* This makes it all the more interesting to really sit down and talk with someone from the WWII Generation about their life.


*History has a way of repeating itself...

*Yawn*

It's 1:30 AM and I'm still sitting in the office, waiting for certain reports to run.

Is it normal to work 11 hours of overtime? Would someone like to explain to me what's going on?

And while you're at it, would you explain the meaning of life? And would you answer the other thousand or so questions I have spinning around in my mind?

Thanks.

*hums a Pink Floyd song in her head*

I need contact with the outside world! But everyone I know on this side of the planet is probably sleeping.

Has anyone out there ever felt trapped? Seriously trapped. Like my thoughts are trapped in my head is trapped in my body is trapped in an office is trapped on a continent is trapped on a planet is trapped spinning aimlessly around a red rubber ball? That's kind of how I feel sometimes.

Especially at this hour of the night (morning?).

Nah, I like my job. It's just that I'm sometimes slightly tired and delusional.

Blogs and Potted Plants and Moi

So... I talked with Mom today.

Mom: "What'd you do to your blog? It's all black with depressing lyrics."
Mary: "I'm sick of writing. I don't even know what to write anymore. So I stopped."
Mom: "Well, I don't want to read a bunch of depressing lyrics..."
Mary: "But they're not depressing... I deliberately tried to avoid posting depressing lyrics. Believe me, those are happy lyrics."

I think happiness and sadness are relative. Some people might even consider happiness to be a lack of sadness. Apathy would be an example. Or, standing on the balcony and thinking, "something feels different today... I actually don't want to jump off." For some people, that right there is a huge, happy step forward. Happy, happy, happy.

All that to say... the blog's back and Mom's right... I've put a lot of work and thought into this, and I shouldn't just kill it like that.

Speaking of killing things, I've about had it with my plants. Anyone need some pretty (empty) potted-plant-pots? I have four or five.

Lyrics

But I learned fast how to keep my head up cause I
Know I got this side of me that
Wants to grab the yoke from the pilot and just
Fly the whole mess into the sea.

- Shins


What I learned I rejected, but I believe again.
Will I suffer the consequence of this inquisition?
If I jump in this fountain, will I be forgiven?

-Alanis Morissette


Let's grease the wheel over tea,
Let's discuss things in confidence,
Let's be outspoken, let's be ridiculous,
Let's solve all the world's problems.

-Alanis Morissette


Hey people, looking out the window at the city below
Hey people, looking out the window, full of fun and sorrow
Hey people, looking out the window at the city below
Hey people, looking out the window, you'll be gone tomorrow.

-Belle and Sebastian


O Love of mine, would you condescend to help me?
I am stupid and blind.

-Belle and Sebastian

Family Europe Trip, Part 2

So... how about some more pictures from my family's visit this summer? They're a little random and unsorted... I just picked out some of my favourites. Better late than never, eh?

As always, simply click on the picture to make it larger.



This was taken on a city wall... I don't remember which city, though, cause we visited quite a few. I'm sure Dad remembers, though...




Here's Kenny climbing the City Wall... I wish I could remember the name.




Of course we had to visit the Neuschwanstein Castle in Bavaria... here are Kenny and Mamita... aren't they cute?




I love my chicas! This was taken atop the Hohenschwangau Castle.




Believe it or not, this is the "piano" that Wagner composed and played on. He and Prince Maximilian (or was it King Ludwig II?), the builder of Castle Hohenschwangau, were friends. It was amazing. I felt like I was walking into some Musical Holy of Holies. Though I'm not that big of a Wagner fan (his music is generally too loud and disorderly and overwhelming), it was nonetheless thrilling to see his piano and take illegal pictures of it.




This is the Munich appartment complex we lived in when we first moved to Germany. We were in Munich for a year and then in Friedberg, which is right outside of Augsburg, for four years.




Neal went with us to Cologne, which is one of his favourite cities (sometimes he won't shut up about it).




We were looking at something rather inappropriate in Cologne. Ha ha ha.



Which remeinds me... I keep forgetting to book my flight back to the States...

Nine Eleven

I still remember hearing the news: my roommate came tearing into our room, frantically telling me what had happened. She was known for over-reacting and being dramatic so I didn't believe it until she dragged me down the hall to the dorm TV lounge to see for myself.

I immediately ran to call my parents, but couldn't reach them because the phone lines were jammed. This continued for hours.

My Aunt and Uncle live in New York, so it was a relief hearing that they were ok.

A friend's father worked in the Pentagon, so it was a relief hearing that he was ok.

The entire University was in an uproar; the majority of classes were cancelled for the next couple of days.

Prayer Vigils were held and supported by various campus organizations.

News channels were broadcasted throughout the week in the MSC (Memorial Student Center), so students could gather together, watch the news, and discuss the events.

Blood donation sites were set up on campus, allowing students to donate blood for the injured in New York.

For weeks (and even months) afterwards, that was THE TOPIC. Not a day went by where you didn't discuss it or think about it.

I never thought something like that could happen on American soil. Yes, we have crime, but it's from the inside - my generation is the Columbine generation, after all. We even had a bomb threat at my high school, so I went into school late that particular day without thinking twice. But terrorism from the outside? That was a new concept introduced to me six years ago. My parents have told me stories of growing up during the Cold War Era - being afraid that the communists would come and take them away, for example. But my generation has been seemingly protected and naive.

Those are simply some things I remember from September 11, 2001.

Now, six years later, life somehow continues.

I had a great conversation today (ironically, I didn't realize until post-facto that it was the 11th) with one of my colleagues who is a Turkish Muslim. We were talking about God and beliefs and hate and war. And I realized, once again, that our fight here on earth isn't against other people. I'm not exactly sure what it's against, and what it practically looks like... but grown-ups are like children in the sense that no matter what culture you're in, they're the same.

"Children... they're all alike" is a common observation, especially from well-travelled and cultured adults with their own children... but couldn't we say the same about grown-ups?

"People... they're all alike."

We're a sad, broken, confused, lost, lonely group of people here on this planet and for whatever reason we have these tendencies to hate and kill eachother. The war isn't individual against individual... individuals get along, for the most part. And even if they don't, they usually don't kill eachother. What is war? Is it belief against belief? Culture against culture? Race against race? But Beliefs and Culture and Races are comprised of individuals. I don't think anyone can really explain war, or even end it.

Which is why I saw fire and crashing buildings and crying people and bleeding people every time I read a newspaper or turned on the televison.

I know my Muslim colleague had nothing personally to do with the attacks on September 11. Just like I didn't personally decide to go to war with Iraq. Or Afghanistan. Or Kosovo. Or anywhere else US troops are stationed.

I don't hate people. I hate sin. And I hate rebellion against God, against holiness, against peace, against beauty. I hate temptation and giving in to temptation. I hate that sin dominates this world. Sometimes I hate the world, hate what people have to experience, hate that I don't understand why.

That's all.

Hark! the herald angels sing...

When I think about it, there's not really much of anything I'd rather do than lounge around singing and playing the piano with Syd and Eleanor and whoever else happens to be there at the moment.* Yesterday evening, it was English Christmas songs, for whatever reason. I've always had a habit of playing Christmas songs out of season, and on this particular evening several other people seemed to be in a Christmas-y mood as well. 'Twas lovely.

In the past several days I've been thinking about (primarily non-physical) Constants, and trying to determine if there's anything in life that's constant. I basically came to the conclusion that the only Constant in life is the guaranteed lack of consistancy. But amidst this inconsistancy, a love for music has been an almost-constant in my life. There's just something calming and lovely and distracting and healing about it.

*Well, maybe I'd rather be wreaking havoc with my sisters, but they're not here (or I'm not there), so life marches on.

Tired

It's about 23:00 and I just got home from work. We're talking about a 15 hour day today.

The combination of analyzing numbers, skipping meals, and binge-drinking coffee isn't helping the general situation here, either.

I kind of need a hug. But I guess all the normal people are safely at home, asleep in their beds, while I'm out carousing the A-57 and analyzing everything from allocation cost cycles to unanswered life questions.

Blue like What? (Or, Book Recommendations)

I've officially got a new... I don't even know what to call it. A hero? An admiree? A semi-celebrity-crush?

It's been a while since a book has changed my life... the last book that concretely changed both my views and certain decisions was A Return to Modesty by Wendy Shalit, which I read multiple times throughout high school and college. READ THIS if you have the chance. It's brilliant and witty and true and feministic in a non-bra-burning way.

Now, however, I'm on a major Don Miller Trip. About a year ago, I read Blue like Jazz for the first time, and decided to read it again hoping it'd help me understand life and God and things. Along with it I read Searching for God Knows What because (a) I liked Don Miller for the most part and (b) I liked the title.

The book is brilliant.

His view of Christianity and Spirituality is a ton different than most everything I've come across in the past. He's both personal, real and brutally honest in his writing, and seems to have a decent understanding of the general human condition. He definitely presented some ideas worthy of somehow incorporating into my sometimes-seemingly-warped general world view.

As far as I know, the books don't exist in German...

Freaky Deaky Dutch

*checks the calendar*

Is it the end of August yet?

Actually, no, but I want to let everyone know that I'm going to be away until Friday afternoon/evening, so if I don't answer an e-mail or the phone, that's why. No, I'm not going to be institutionalized or admitted into a psych ward (that I know of)... I'm going on my first business trip, which I'm actually rather excited about. A colleague and I will be in Holland (where our European Headquarters are located) conducting a training seminar for one of our Budget-Planing and -Reporting Systems.

Today I test-drove the company Audi we get for the trip... but I still like my Scaramouche better.

Things are slowly getting better, and, like the high majority of the problems I have, it's nothing that can't be solved by a nice mixture of journaling, pondering, chocolate, and mass quantities of mood-elevating Chinese herbs. And time, of course.

One more thought (this is currently a minor-side-issue): if one more person makes one more sexist comment in my presence, I'm going to quit my job, go to Bible College, become a preacher, start my own church, and preach against sexism and how Jesus was actually a radical thinker during his time and saw ALL people as equals.

La la la la

*waves to everyone*

I'm going to take a break from blogging until I get certain aspects of life figured out.

In the past three months (funny how quickly a day turns into a week turns into a month turns into three months) or so, I've been trying to work through some stuff and for some reason things are taking longer than normal to resolve.

For my Dear Readers who regularly read the blog, I'll post an update at the end of August.

That's... all... I... have... to... say... for... now...


Lyric of the Day: "I need an intervention, a touch of providence. It goes beyond religion, to my very circumstance." -thanks to dcTalk

Family Europe Trip, Part 1

And now, folks, here are some pictures as promised. :)

Here are my Darlings in the Airplane...


On one of the first days, we went to Xanten to look at this Windmill where they actually grind the wheat, make flour, then bake fresh bread. Here's Katinka inside the Windmill...


Here I am with my Emita on top of the Windmill.


This is the little shop inside the Windmill where you can buy fresh bread.


Afterwards, we went by Eleanor's and took a walk through their lovely little town.


It was raining a little that afternoon, but we didn't care. We might be sweet, but we're not made out of sugar. :)


To my Dear German Readers: a Windmill might not be that exciting for you guys... but it's definitely something you don't see in the States, which is why we were there. :)

Back to the States and Back to Normal...

Well, my five favourite people in the world made it back safely to the States. Though I'm glad they had a safe trip, I'm not glad they're back home.


*wipes away a (unfortunately very literal and recurring) tear*

My parents have always told me and my sisters, "if you won't do anything about it, then you can't complain about it."

Is this my way of complaining? Maybe.

Am I having a hard time? Yes.

Should I be complaining? Probably not.

Should I do something about it? I don't know. That's the Big Question.

If anyone has any ideas, thoughts or suggestions about what the heck I should do with the rest of my life, I'm open for discussion.

And now for a new and slightly lighter topic: the photos from our trip are taking a while to sort and upload... but I'll be posting some as soon as I can.

I miss my fam.


Lyric of the Day: "All I really want to say is you're the reason I want to stay, but destiny is calling and won't hold. And when my time is up I'm out of here... It often makes no sense, in fact I never understand these things." - thanks to Ben Folds Five

Good-bye for a while...

I've decided to take a break from writing for two primary reasons:

1. I need time to sort some things out and think some things through. Writing an Emo-blog is something I decided early on not to do, but I'd also like my writing to be open and honest. Which means I ought to take a break at this point.

2. My family will finally be here this week and we're going to be out and about much of the time.

If you believe (a) there's a God and (b) He's personal, then you could pray that my family's traveling would be safe, that we'd have a wonderful time together, and that I'd be able to somehow work through all the crap that's going on in my head.

If you don't believe there's some sort of a personal God, or you're not sure, then I challenge you to really spend some time thinking about your beliefs, your life, your purpose and your future. That's the type of thing you really ought to sort out and be sure of before you die.

Most likely until the end of July,
Mary

Choir Weekend

Once again, today feels more like a Picture Day as opposed to a Word Day, so here are some pictures from this weekend. Our Choir spent most of Saturday practicing for a concert we'd like to give in the Fall, and then we sang at our church this morning. As always, click on the photo to make it larger.


Here we are warming up... this is the closest Syd and I come to doing sports.*



Though we don't look that excited, practicing is actually rather fun, and can even be quite hilarious at times.



My favourite Tenor and Bass... :)



Here's Biff starting the grill fire... is this normal? Can I make a generalization and say that the majority of Germans start their grill fires this way? Or is it a Center of the Universe Thing?



Helmut not only has a thing for a certain young lady at church, but for cell phones...



Here's Syd fastening the salad bowl to the tractor - the ride home is pretty bumpy. Yes, I know I shouldn't make fun of him, but sometimes he kind of asks for it. :)



Sunday morning singing at church...



Last but not least, a group photo outside the church...



*swimming with Huckleberry excluded

Halde*

This was taken on a little mountain/hill right outside my town...



*ist das richtig buchstabiert?

What to write... ?

*thinks about what to write*

*eats chocolate*

*writes something extremely negative*

*deletes*

*thinks some more*

*writes something twistedly sarcastic*

*deletes*

*thinks again*

*gazes out the window*

*writes something tragically honest*

*deletes*

*closes her eyes and thinks*

*writes in symbolism*

*deletes*

*eats more chocolate*

*writes something irrelevant and shallow*

*deletes*

*thinks some more*

*gives up*


As many of you know, that's kind of where I am at this point. And not just with the blog. But things are improving.

Thoughts of a Hair-Twirling Brat

I was debating whether or not to even go to church a couple of weeks ago just cause I was so burnt out from everything. But, as I've been taught to make decisions based on what I think is right as opposed to what I feel like, I decided to take a deep breath and go for it. All was well until the following conversation after the sermon with a certain older woman who's notorious for making people run crying out of the building, never to return. 

Lady: "Do you really think you should twirl your hair during the church service?" 

Mary: "Em... I never really thought about it." 

Lady: "Do you do it subconsciously?" 

Mary: "Well... I realize I'm doing it... but..." 

Lady: "So it's deliberate? Do you realize it distracts people?" 

Mary: "Em... no..." 

Lady: "And do you think it's appropriate to sit the way you do?" 

Mary: "Excuse me?" 

Lady: "You sit Indian-style throughout the entire service. Now, I'd understand if a three-year-old would do that, but... how old are you?" 

Mary: "Em... I'm 24..." *hangs her head in shame* 

Lady: *gasp* "24..." 

Mary: "I don't want to discuss this anymore." 

Lady: *starts to talk* 

Mary: "I said, I can't discuss this. And if I feel like twirling my hair, I think I ought to be able to do so."  

Am I a brat? The secret's out, folks: I'm a terribly immature hair-twirling sassy-mouthed brat. But sometimes there's simply no other option. Last time we talked, the issue was my weight. 

Lady: "You look really thin... it's not healthy to be so thin." 

Mary: "I've always been thin... it's just the way I am, and I generally feel healthy." 

Lady: "But SO thin... you even look like you've lost weight." 

Mary: "Maybe I have. Maybe I'm under stress." 

Lady: "What do you eat? Do you eat vegetables?" 

Mary: "No, I hate vegetables. I never eat them." 

Lady: *looks me up and down* 

Mary: "I only eat chocolate... for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Vegetables make me sick." 

Seriously, though... I think there are more important things to criticize me on. If someone's going to criticize or question me, believe me, there are a TON of things you could focus on. Real things. Serious things. Arguably dangerous things. If anyone's interested, let me know and I'll write you a book. But the way I sit in church? Please. It's superficial and shallow and irrelevant and annoying. Yesterday, I was tempted to sit Indian-style. And to even try twirling my hair with both hands. And to maybe even smack gum and pop bubbles during the sermon. But instead I sat all the way in the back and behaved myself.

Limited Internet Access...

Due to lack of internet access, I'm going to be unable to update this blog for a limited, yet unknown, period of time. Hopefully things will be up and running in a week or so.

Also, if you need to get in touch with me, please pick up the phone instead of sending an e-mail.

Thanks...