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