Sparky's Birthday

Today my dear, sweet, handsome husband turns 32.

Dancing Queen

Sparky bought me an MP3 player to make my workouts more fun. He made me a workout playlist to go with it.

When “Winner Takes It All” by ABBA comes on, the room goes black. At first I thought I was having a heart attack, but then I realized the sparkly lights were from the disco ball… the disco ball in my head. The smells of popcorn and slurpee tell me where I am.

I’m alone in a roller rink. My socks are white and pulled up to my knees. My white old-school roller skates have sparkly red wheels.

When the last “Winner takes it aaaaaaaaaaaaalllllll” refrain hits, it’s just me, the skates, the disco ball and a spot light. I spin and spin and spin, singing with Agnetha until the song ends and I gracefully lay down on the rink. Everything goes black as Eminem brings me back to reality.

As this song is timed to play when I’m on the treadmill, it’s really important that I control my urge to spin.

It’s not easy.

Old Business

I’ve been out of commission for a few days. So I thought I’d catch up with everything. As I’m now taking a break from school for a month, I have time this morning.

Let’s go back in time to the get together. I swear, every ex-pat blogger I meet seems to be intelligent, friendly and has a great sense of humor. J and I were talking about this standing in line for our tickets to Rent. Never met a blogger we didn’t like. Maybe its only because the icky ones stay away. I’d like to meet an icky blogger, so as long as you’re not a serial killer. Meet up with us one time so we can say, “No, its not that all blogger are great, its just this select group of bloggers that are great.” You know, it’s nice to be a unique and special snowflake.

Markus told Hamish he seemed smaller than his pictures and wanted to know if he had lost weight. He told Calvin he was well fed. He meant well nourished as in Calvin obviously had enough milk and vitamins growing up because he’s tall. Well, it could have been really uncomfortable if Calvin and Hamish hadn’t seen the humor. Nice. That’s my guy. Making friends all over town.

I did show them all the places serial killers are likely to hang out in my immediate living area. There are lots. Better informed than not as I always say. I hope none of them are killers. If they are, I’m totally f’d. They’ll cut me for sure. Especially after I suggested that I was the slow gazelle in the herd.

For all the single female expats, these new boys are gorgeous, well dressed and have a fantastic sense of humor. Calvin looked like he stepped out of a Banana Republic store in SF and I have no idea where Hamish shops, but he should continue. Calvin has a girlfriend. Hamish didn’t say either way, but he has the most intense eyes. If I were a single girl, I might swoon.

Calvin does something for employment that I am not allowed to reveal to the online community, but I have to say, his job fascinates the poop out of me. Most likely to start a conversation type of job that will never benefit the asker kind of job. He’s not a Dr., lawyer, Indian chief. He’s a scientist.

J is/was wonderful, charming and thoughtful as always. I wish he lived closer. I never have enough time to talk to him. We’re always on the move. Rent was great. The English Theater is fabu. Next year we’re getting season tickets. We are setting up a date to see The Blithe Spirit by Noel Coward. If anyone else wants to attend with us, let J or me know and we’ll work the dates so we can all go.

In Rent, something happens to a main character that I was not informed of in advance which resulted in tears. I need to know these things, people. I like to be prepared. Mim told me she specifically did not tell me about it so I’d cry. Nice. Making her sister cry from 6000 miles away.

New subject.

For the ladies out there:

I have discovered a really great girl doctor and hospital in the area. If anyone lives in the Darmstadt/Frankfurt area and needs a referral, Dr. Sigrid Greiner is the best OB/Gyn, hands down, that I have ever seen. I thank the stars I found her. If not for Dr. Greiner, I would not have been able to choose whether or not I want to have kids. She saved my uterus and quite possible more. And, here’s something I don’t say often. She is much better than my old, regular Ob/Gyn in the states.

She is worth the drive if you live further away. She works with a surgeon named Dr. Jens Zimmerman who is also fabulous. If you have a problem or don’t like your current Dr., she is the one to go to. She speaks both German and English, but her staff speaks only German. However, Dr. Greiner is worth it.

Anger Management is a part of Integration

I hate my German school. I want to quit. I got myself in to a sticky sucky situation where I’m damned either way and there is no way I can win. Why? Because I seem to use a different kind of logic. You know the logic that says if I go to a school for six months, I don’t want to pay a €50 registration fee for the seventh.

If you live in the Darmstadt area, do not go to Studio Mondiale. The office staff are the rudest, most pigheaded bunch of bureaucrats (and I mean that in the nastiest possible way) I’ve dealt with in a while. And I built my house from scratch. I’ve dealt with rude and stubborn people. I’ve dealt with rules and the “Rules cannot be broken” attitude and these people take the cake. One of the secretaries, I think her name is Alexandra, is sleeping with the boss Martin, so she feels free to be as wretched and inflexible as she wants.

When I asked to speak with Martin I was told that I could not. As in no, you cannot speak to Martin. As in it is not possible. I think it’s the whole may I/can I -- Dürfen/Können issue that we Americans seem to screw up. Actually, I CAN speak with Martin because he and I both have the ability to speak, however, I may not speak with Martin because you will not transfer my call.

That whole go up the line to the powers that be thing doesn’t seem mean anything here. I know we speak different languages, but the idea was so foreign to these people, you would have thought I suggested toilet paper was the new black. Huh, what does that mean, you want to speak with my boss? I do not understand. It is not in the rule book. Let me call the Amt and I’ll call you back a week from Tuesday. Oh, wait calls back are not in the contract for the integration course. Sorry. It will cost you €35 in advance for a call back.

My dad sent the following to me. I think it’s appropriate.

The second is a funny and totally NSFW video. I think this too is a somehow appropriate. They should hand out lube with each perm residency permit. A little welcome to Germany kit.

S&M Fetish Wear Does Not Keep Me Awake

So J hit us with a meme. This is good because I can do it quickly and then start returning e-mails that have lain in state for too long. Sparky’s part will be added later because he’s working on a PAID project.

Berlin was interesting. We hit a pothole on the way up, in the middle of the night, in a snowstorm and tore a huge hole in one of the exhaust pipes. I like to think of it as increased safety measure. Loud Pipes Save Lives and all. As Sparky had business meeting all day Friday, it was up to me alone, to take the car to the dealership and make sure we could drive her home.

I spoke only German the entire day. From the hotel, to the construction worker I asked directions, to the werkstatt people, to the parking attendant back at the hotel. It was really weird. I think this is what happened. I stopped thinking about it and the deutsch flowed like a river out of my mouth and into my ears. It was like watching a foreign film. I got so entranced in the story I forgot I was reading. I was so involved in the immediate problems, broken car, getting lost in the middle of Berlin, cell phone dead, Sparky elsewhere, that the area of my brain that greedily holds all the German vocabulary and grammar I’ve learned, opened up and simply worked.

It could be that I was totally incomprehensible. All I know is that everything I thought people were saying matched what I thought I said. The directions to the dealership were exactly as the construction worker told me. This means he must have understood that I was lost and needed direction. Once there, upon request I gave the keys and the appropriate documentation to the right people, spoke with the head mechanic and got the low down on my car. I was able to communicate this to Sparky and our regular mechanic, who by the way is planning another vacation as we have provided the funds. (We literally picked up the BMW from him when we dropped off the convertible. When we pick up the convertible, we will drop off the BMW again. Man, I should have been a mechanic.)

I made it back to our hotel, parked, picked up lunch and made it back to the room intact. I take this to mean I have a working knowledge of Deutsch.

This is good, because after five months, I am sick and tired and just plain burned out with German class. I have that stupid Arno for Grammatik yet again. This is the teacher I CANNOT stand. Really, I can’t stand him. Even his face at this point is irritating. I’ve tried all my usual tricks for staying awake and alert. Extra strong coffee, pinching the inside of my wrists, actually paying attention and imagining Arno in SM gear (he’s a leather wearing sub who likes the crop because he’s been a very, very bad boy, boring his class all morning). None of this works for very long. I try not to look at my cell phone clock because its just depressing how slow time can actually go when Arno is in the front of the class.

Every morning seems to be a repeat of the fourth grade.

I wake up early because I can’t sleep. This I think is good because I’ll be ready for school on time. I drink coffee and read the news regardless of the fact that I know if don’t get dressed I’m going to be late. (Late is bad because then I get the bad seat in the front of the class by the teacher.) Then I read some more until I have the absolute minimum time to get ready.

Then I get pissed and sulk. “Why do I have to go? I hate Arno. He’s the worst. And the office ladies I have to pass to get to my class are rude.” This stage usually ends with a why-can’t-you-be-American rant. Sparky hasn’t even begun to listen to me yet. Since he goes through this everyday, he’s learned the TUNE-OUT method of stress reduction.

This moves us directly to bargaining. “Let’s go to the gym instead. Then after the gym, I’ll work on German THE ENTIRE REST OF THE DAY.” This never works. Sparky is going to the gym regardless.

Eventually, within 10 minutes because the denial phase is rather long, I put on my shoes and shuffle towards the car.

By the time Sparky drops me off, I’m more concerned with getting my favorite seat at the back left corner of the room.

The time in class does not fly this month. It’s long and painful. And this month I have tons of doctor appointments and dentist appointments which means missed classes which means I’m behind and don’t understand what’s going on which makes the class even more unbearable. And this month seems like an eternity. I’d been dating everything 12-03-06. It was only today I realized its still February. Brilliant, aren’t I?

Man, I’m a whiner. Okay, I’m tired of hearing this. Let’s move on to the meme.

1. What did you do in 2005 that you hadn't done before?
Started German classes

2. Did anyone close to you give birth?
No, but a friend got pregnant.

3. Did anyone close to you die?
no, thank the stars.

4. Did you travel? Where did you go? Best holiday memory?
Yes, I traveled all over Germany and to the US. Best memory of travel is just being with Sparky and the Wonder Twins. Having my three favorite people in the same room is the best.

5. Best thing you bought?
Does paying off a student loan count as buying something because really, to be able to tell those people to lose my phone number was a great thing.

6. Where did most of your money go?
To the loft.

7. What do you wish you had done more of?
Travel

8. What do you wish you had done less of?
complaining

9. What kept you sane?
Sparky, of course.

10. What drove you mad?
Sparky, of course. German customer service

11. What made you celebrate?
Being home with my family twice in one year
Cabrio driving, music blaring, sun shining, A/C completely functional

12. What made you sad?
My sister not getting to go to college with her friends
Not having enough time at home
Not ordering the scallops at the North Beach restaurant

13. How was your birthday?
It sucked the biggest phallic symbol you can imagine.
I will not elaborate

14. What political issue stirred you the most?
All current Bush policies.

15. Where you in love in 2005?
Oh yes, terribly. Don’t tell Sparky.

16. What would you like to have in 2006 that you didn't have in 2005?
More European traveling.

17. What date from 2005 will be etched in your memory and why?
August 4th because that’s when I found out my sister had a tumor.
August 18th because that’s when we found out she couldn’t go to school for a while.
August 21st because that’s when I realized I didn’t say I was 32 enough before I turned 33.

18. What song will remind you of 2005?
Andy, You’re a Star by The Killers

19. Compared to the end of 2004, were you happier at the end of 2005?
Yes. I have more friends and much more of a life now. Not nearly so isolated.

20. Biggest achievement?
Learning German, learning to put together our taxes

21. Biggest disappointment?
Not learning German fast enough, not fully participating in NaNoWriMo

22. What is the one thing that would have made you more satisfied?
Nothing, really. I’m pretty satisfied. I have a damn good life.

23. Best new person you met?
J, Mausi, Haddocks, James and his M.

24. A valuable life lesson you learnt?
Let go and let Sparky figure it out in his own way.

Upfront and Personal

I was laying back, hands clenched on my stomach. The scent of his aftershave was oddly soothing. He kinda reminded me of an old boyfriend. I explained my hard limits and soft limits. I find it best, in these situations, if we all know the score. Sparky was there to make sure I communicated correctly and that we understood each other. I looked up into his speckled brown eyes, searching for a clue to gauge where the relationship was going. As it turns out, it was going all the way, baby. We’re talking long term.

“Do you feel any pain?”
“No. Do you want me to?” I mumbled, mouth full of cotton.
“Well, I just drilled into the root area. I’m sorry. You will most definitely need root canal.”

I’ve had a bit of tooth pain for the last few months. At first it was just seeds that bothered me. Then it was all chewing. I switched to the other side of my mouth. When it finally reached that constant dull throbbing, I knew I was in trouble and I knew I was going to have to find a dentist.

My experience has not been good with dentists. I had a Russian dentist who did not believe in Novocain. I did a really great imitation of a David Copperfield levitation act during that appointment. Painful does not accurately describe the sensation. And that whole idea that you cannot pass out from tooth torture is absolutely true.

Old Shaky hands completely missed one of four canals, which lead to another appointment with another dentist a few years later. When a dentist shakes his head and say F**K while examining you, it is not a good sign. This dentist was very kind and prescribed Valium before every visit, even cleanings. He said it was preferable to my constant twitching, jerking and the occasional bite.

Now, I’ve had some iffy experiences with regular doctors here in Deutschland. You can imagine my anxiety level whilst contemplating European dentistry.

Well, this guy came recommended by our friend, The Dentist. And it was a good recommendation. I felt no pain at the time. Now my gums are sore as all hell. However, I did not feel one drill bit. His hands were steady and he gave me a script for something that is supposed to calm me before the next appointment next week. Good Man!!

There was a moment of levity when I asked for a bite guard. I have a very bad tendency to bite dentists (I’m not exactly a gold-star patient). I was told that I didn’t need a bite guard; I just needed to open my mouth wide. I explained that my mouth is rather small and doesn’t open up all that wide. A point to which Sparky vocally attested to and agreed. Nice…

I have another invasive doctor appointment this evening because the dentist just wasn’t enough. After that, Sparky and I are headed for Berlin. He has a business meeting tomorrow and we’re taking an extra day as a Valentine’s Day mini-break.

A man nudges his wife before bed, feeling a bit amorous and asks, "Feel like a little booty?" She replies, "I have an appointment at the gynecologist tomorrow. Sorry.”

A few minutes later, he asks, "You don't by any chance have a dentist's appointment tomorrow, do you?"

Suicide Trains

I passed. I am now officially in MittelKurs1, aka MK1

Sparky’s train was cancelled. Another suicide. He has to take a later one that will get him to Frankfurt around midnight. Who knows when he’ll get to Boweltown?

As an aside, those of you who use DB, have you noticed how many suicides are uh… committed on DB train tracks? Do you think it has anything to do with DB? Do we know if people commit hari kari on T-Com property? I think this needs some investigation. It could be why German service is so bad. When customers complain, ummm, here comes a tra—aain.

I met an American today in my school, the first since the poseur. We heard each other’s accent and like a hound en pointe, frozen, sniffing the air. We asked each other simultaneously “Are you American?”

Since neither of us is military, we had much in common. We’ll go out this week for coffee.

I have a raging headache that started oddly enough right after my visit to the gym.

I think I’m allergic. Sparky says one way to battle allergies is by maximum exposure. I think he’s just a mean, mean man.

Gettin' High

February 1st marked our 2nd year anniversary of living in our loft. I walked out of Mutti’s house 2 years ago, spent the night in Frankfurt at some hotel, bought an air mattress the next day and moved in. We had one working toilet, no running water, no kitchen, the electricity wasn’t finished, no balconies, nothing. I didn’t care at the time and REALLY didn’t care if Markus came with me. The loft had a temporary front door and a toilet. What else does a girl need? We were a brand new married couple and let me tell you, my mother-in-law is a very nice woman, but no newly married couple should live with the in-laws.

Markus did come with me and we spent the next nine months of our brand new marriage in the company of construction workers, painters, locksmiths and carpenters. Most were privy to much of our newly married uh… behavior because they would start at 6 am. I can’t tell you how many times I walked out of the bedroom to painters hanging off the side of the building in front of our windows.

We had a locksmith who must have thought I was a hot wife he found me in such a compromising position. I had to ask him to leave because he wasn’t going anywhere without being prompted. The guys who installed the mirrors in our bathroom, walked in on my morning bath. I had to ask them to leave also. One was really hot and I thought about just staying in there. I mean after all, Sparky let them in.

Why is this so important? Because today, Feb 3rd 2006 our construction is completed . The painter finished up while I was at school.

Technically, the bedroom walls need to be re-done due to a construction error and the settling of the house, but we are waiting on that for personal reasons that include a TV installation and wires inside the wall so Sparky McPsycho doesn’t have to see the wires. No more wire hangers!!!

I’m totally getting high off the fumes. I think the cats are too. I can barely feel my fingertips anymore. This is the start of my career as a Huffer.

Our home warranty has expired. It’s nice to know the work has been completed.

Well, I took my fourth test in German today. It was really hard. We had two hours to complete it and I used up the entire amount of time. I didn’t even get to double-check my work. It was all composition and sentences. I didn’t get any fill in the blanks. Rats! They were actually testing for comprehension. I’m screwed.

This class was the hardest for me as far as motivation was concerned. I was going to take a month break and then hit the middle courses, but I was told today that I didn’t give the office enough time. So I’m back up on the horse again Monday. I might have to take this last class over again.

According to the German government I should be able to speak German well enough to get a job in two months. I don’t want to laugh at whatever Amt made that decision, but we don’t actually speak very much in class. I can read the shit out of anyone, but unless a potential job requires me to be drunk, I won't be able to speak. I probably could work a fast food window at MacDonald's. They get really cool hats and all the Fish Macs a girl's vascular system could handle.

To celebrate my completion (not yet successful, I find out Monday) of the Beginner's level with possible movement to Intermediate, Sparky took me to the gym. Yep, that’s what I said. I got to take a hard-ass test and then on to Phys Ed. Golly, if only I could have thrown in some Algebra it would have been a gold-star day. I could barely contain my joy let me tell you.

Technically, Sparky and I made a commitment that 2006 is our year of health. Yeah, he’s healthy and if I’d let him, he’d be at the gym 7 days a week. His part of the commitment is getting my sorry ass to the gym.

I went. I wasn’t happy about it, but I went and I got to use a shower I didn’t have to clean. I guess that’s a plus.

I’m going to go sniff the walls now. Happy Friday.

p.s. The cats are totally high.

Miss Nomer

I have a test tomorrow. I’m totally burned out on the deutsch sprach. I’ll study in a minute, get off my back, Sheesh… Sorry, the superego has been a bit problematic.

So I was talking to Mim on Monday. She and Jeff have decided to call me Runt. And they are not trying to be ironic. Runt. Uh, have you met me? They decided this was a good name as I am the shortest of the siblings. The shortest being me at 5”9’.

According to Dictionary.com, a runt is:
1. An undersized animal, especially the smallest animal of a litter.
2. Offensive. A short person.

Okay, actually, I lost my height in a bet with Chevy Valentine years ago. We lived in the same building for a while. One afternoon, after what I am sure was too many vodka/cran-grape cocktails, we made a bet. If she lost, I got something trivial, I can’t remember. If I lost, she got to say she was 5”9’ and I had to say I was 5”6’. She was right and forever more she is 5”9’ and I’m 5”6’. So if you ask, I have to say I’m 5”6’.

That notwithstanding, I am mere millimeters shorter than my sister. She’s 5”10’. Jeff is 6’2”. We are not small people. I’m not even going to touch the weight factor except to say that I am a runt like Biggie was Small.

Miranda went on to say that mom must have saved all the good food for she and Jeff because how else could one explain my shortness in comparison. She said I must have been malnourished. Its true, when I was a child, my mom was more gypsy than Stepford, but I maintain that SpaghettiO’s have a ton of vitamins. Granted it wasn’t the smoked salmon and capers on which Princess Poopy Pants dined, but this does not a runt make.

So it told her no. Runt was not a nickname to which I would respond. I don’t have a nickname. I’ve always wanted one. I tried Jax for a while, but that was really only good for making reservations and ordering coffee at Peet’s. My GBF used it because he loves me and indulged my need for a cool nickname. Several guys I uh... dated might have used that name but they might not have known any other. Therefore, it didn’t stick. With nicknames, it’s all about the stick factor.

My cousin Emily christened Sparky. She called him Sparky after an intense political e-mail the two were trading. Then my aunt picked up on it, then I did and now everyone in my family calls him Sparky. It had the stick factor.

Miranda was originally called Mimi. It was her first word. Then we called her Screaming Mimi as was her wont when things did not go her way. It got traded in for Mim after a Disney character, Mad Madame Mim. Miranda was not always the happiest little 2 year old.

And of course, along the way she might have been called things like toad or nut butt or pumpkinschnaatz. The last was said very lovingly. Only Mim had the stick factor.

Jeff is Yerffej. Earfedge Phonetically. That kinda stuck, but not so much. He’s mostly Jeffy or Jeffrey. So he doesn’t have a nickname either. But its not like I’m calling him S’ghetti arms or anything. I could, but it doesn’t have the stick factor.

The reason I’m worrying about Runt? Its sticky.