No time for Urlaub

This month's post will be pretty bloody short; I've decided that it's not worth discussing any of the work related bull shit. It's the same old stuff. I'm beat down, pissed off, wiped out, and still foolish enough to think I can make a difference.

At any rate, we'll move right along to a few of the highlights (all three of them) of the past weeks since early November.

I did sneak away to Heidelberg to spend a weekend with a former colleague (someone smart enough to get out of the rot) and his family. This involved the opportunity to push a 2 year old in a stroller up the cobblestones of a steep incline to the castle. Frankly, it was totally worth it, even though I broke a sweat. We spent an afternoon checking out the castle, then walked down through the Christmas markets of the town. Quite a nice way to spend a Saturday.

The relatively enjoyable weekend continued through the Sunday, when I got back to Frankfurt to meet a friend at the local markets in my own town. I'm sure there's more to do at the Christmas markets than drink Gluhwine, but I'm not much of a shopper, so I settled for sampling a handful of the different hot bevvies. After three, one tends to feel pretty fuzzy, and I enjoyed myself right through the night until I woke up Monday morning to go to work.

Funny, I've been strolling into work around 10am recently. Most of that has to do with the fact that I just can't bring myself to get out of bed in the morning. Of course, it might help if I would go to bed before 2am (and a cratefull of beer) every so often. Then again...

Take last Tuesday, where we gathered for another outing at the markets. Once again we drank toasty bevvies, then headed back to the pub for a little lively atmosphere, which ultimately meant that once again, I stayed out past bedtime.

Christmas in Germany is a bit festive, I'll admit. With the temps being near freezing, everyone stays bundled up, and, as every place is nonsmoking now, there's always a small crowd outside of every restaurant and bar at any given moment during the evening.

This past Sunday night, several of us went down to a Spanish restaurant in the neighborhood. They were having a little sing along where, instead of Christmas carols and shit like that, we tended to sing all the folk songs that several of us would remember from our youth. Again, I'm not sure what makes "Take Me Home, Country Roads," so popular among the Germans, but just about any time I've seen someone whip out an accoustic guitar, this song gets sung.

Actually, it makes me smile to see and hear so many folks enthusiastically singing so many goofy folk songs. I'm always a bit surprised to see that both young and old people all seem to know these songs by heart. (I'm not even sure I can sing "Dirty Old Town" start to finish without a cheat sheet)

I'm burning a Beatles CD for a friend, and it's almost finished, so I'll wrap this up. No particularly fantastic news to report other than that I'm now able to stomp around Frankfurt with an ipod; what the fuck was I thinking for waiting so long before buying one of these? I've been enjoying irritating people on the train by blaring various bits of angry rock and roll. And, in the three weeks that I've owned it, I've twice gotten off at the wrong U-bahn stop, and one morning got on the wrong bus for work, which actually would have been pretty funny had I not already been in trouble for being late 4 days on the fucking trot.

Speaking of angry rock and roll, the other week the night before an International football friendly, about 40 football hooligans came into the pub for a couple of drinks before heading out to rumble with folks. It was quite the interesting few minutes, but fortunately, rather peaceful.

So, I've got about 60 hours of work to do tomorrow during my last day in the office before holidays. That pretty much means I'll be working throughout the Christmas break. Lovely.

keep the faith.
bryan

soundtrack - anything you want...just turn it up

Same Shit Different Month

So when my old Spanish mobile phone started chirping on Sunday, I naturally was thinking, "what the fuck is going on?"


The phone has been switched off and stuffed in a drawer for months.


Fortunately, it was a reminder to wish Kendall a happy birthday. Sure, I get points for setting the calendar properly on the mobile, but miss the gold star on account I failed to sit down and send her an email until this morning...the day AFTER her birthday.


At any rate, that wasn't half as bad as me forgetting Heather's birthday, which was last month. So, I'll take this opportunity to give the happy belated birthday greeting to her now. Thanks also for the party invite; I'm sure that was a nice time. I assume I'm off the Christmas Card list but will hopefully redeem myself at some point early in 2008.


Things have been fairly wacky in recent weeks, as usual. Constant ups and downs with the job, daily conversations with myself about going off and finding something else to do, and incredible bewilderment that this industry I work in is such a disaster.


I was having a particularly bad day early last week, but was getting through the day. I went over to visit with a couple of girls who work on my team, and they went on to exclaim how much they enjoyed having me for a manager. "You do things differently, Bryan. You actually care about what's going on. You constantly check to make sure we're doing OK. You're great!"


I was really really touched. They went on to say that a lot of people that work in the repair site would just as soon work on my programs. That's pretty good feedback to have.


Of course, my fuzzy feeling lasted all of 24 hours. The next day the customer managed to call me a dipshit (I didn't even know the Flemmish knew that word) and make me feel like the world's biggest ass. In fairness, I had used some poor judgement which helped fuel the customer's frustrations, but once again, I'm struggling to see their need for 20 people to individually voice their displeasure. One time would have sufficed, and would have kept the teleconference from lasting 2 hours.


So, the beat goes on. I certainly don't care as much as I once did, but I haven't really stopped caring, either. I missed a couple of days work a few weeks back, feeling it was better to get over a cold in the privacy of my own apartment. Today, I just didn't feel like going in to work, so I called up and told my boss that I would work from home.


A year ago (ok, maybe 2 years) I would NEVER have done something like that. However, a year or two ago, I might have been able to take more than 4 days off from work, too.


At least I've booked my flights for Christmas. Once again, I'll be bringing joy and good cheer to Meliana, Alboraya, and Valencia. Jose Miguel, we'll have to abuse alcohol one or two nights while I'm there. Hope you don't mind making that sacrifice!


I've got to sign off and run next door for a little dinner and the Arsenal match, so I'll leave you with a few last bits:


I'm currently reading Redemption, the Stan Tookie Williams story. Wow, that's quite the story to improve your humor.


I ran my dishwasher today, and I'm not sure if I've done it right. There's no soap on the floor, but I'm not sure when the load will be through. I'll keep my fingers crossed.


Last but not least - the tunes are still in heavy rotation:


Axodry - You
Alkaline Trio - Don't Say You Wont
Secession - All the Animals Come Out at Night
Bowling For Soup - Ohio
The Pogues - Body of an American


keep the faith
bryan

A Couple of Reasons to Smile

Even with the chilly showers and the crap work, I find myself smiling here on a Wednesday for a couple of reasons. Arsenal 7 - Slava Prague 0. What a nice night for football last evening.

Furthermore, I got to see my friend Simone, who was just as charming as ever. What a cool girl.

There will likely be a train strike tomorrow, and I think the milk in the fridge has gone bad, but it's really just another Wednesday, eh?

cheers
bryan

Insanity's Circus

Yep, once again, I'm having an absolutely bloody awful month playing program manager. There are a few stories brewing, but I've not had the time to get anything written. I did manage a couple of days celebrating Oktoberfest (interpret that as: drinking self silly and being an idiot), and there have been a handful of laughs.

Unfortunately, most of the past thirty days have been bogged down with work, more work, countless meetings, and not a whole lot of things to smile at.

My landlord has extended my lease; I will be able to stay in my flat until June 2008, which is a great thing. Of course, the next morning after that news found me taking a cold shower. My hot water heater is on the blink, and for the past week I've been taking sponge baths. The report today is that the hausmeister is on holiday until the weekend, so I'm looking at another week of being a guest star on little house on the prairie.

I'm doing my best to find the humor wherever possible (ie...last night at 11pm standing naked in a bathroom the size of a gymnasium soaping myself up in 20 degree water is somewhat funny), but really haven't had a whole lot of pleasant thoughts, so it's a lot harder to write. I'd just as soon not keep a daily diary about work. Life is too short (thanks Pablo, Chris, Tim, Jeff, sis, and EVERYONE who has reminded me lately) to squander it away on some stupid job.

Arsenal are on telly tonight, and I need to stop by the bank before matchtime, so this was just a quickie to say that I'm still out there fighting with a vengeance.

keep the faith
bryan

soundtrack -
Alkaline Trio - We've Had Enough

Simonout, Simone out, and some smiles

Yep, the ups and downs of life keep coming in typhoon sized waves, and I'm so used to it that I just kind of shrug, smile sheepishly and move on. One minute I'm thinking I'm back on track, the next minute things are so screwed that I'd just as soon have a root canal performed each week by my dentist.

The past two weeks have been ones filled with lots of reflection. I think a lot of that has to do with the recent death of Lorie; her memorial service was held a couple of weeks ago. I understand the service was quite emotional, but powerful and positive. I was certainly there in spirit, and was really glad to hear that so many people were able to be there to pay respect.

Sure, I've thought a lot about friends over the past weeks (though I'd certainly argue that I tend to think about a lot of friends anyway), but perspectives change after a sudden events, both sad and joyous, don't they?

I remember late last year saying that the Spanish experience had been brilliant; the only thing I was missing was the job. This year, the experience is equally fantastic, with the only downside being, er, the job. Funny enough, I wanted the chance to return to the thick of things, but never dreamed that finally reaching my goal of having European employment would result in me also experiencing record setting personal career lows at the same time.

Is it me? Is it the company? Is it the customer? Is it the industry?

Yes to all of those questions. The company is bollocks; it always has been. I've always rationalized that it was really no better in another company, particularly within the industry. I still believe that.

My customer? For the first time ever in my life I'm dealing with a customer that I'm having trouble respecting. I can appreciate a demanding customer. I'm a demanding customer. But, my customer has proven to be overwhelming. I won't go into gobs of detail (I really don't feel like stooping to that level. Besides I wouldn't feel much better anyway, though it is always fun to say the phrase "complete jerk offs"), and in fairness, they've certainly had justification for being dissatisfied with my company and myself.

That said, the constant browbeating that we've taken has been excessive. I tend to take these things personally, and it gets old real quick.

Each time I've hit a low, however, I search and search and find a way to dig back out. The summer was pretty tough, but I got through it. It's starting to get tough again, and I know I can get through it.

It's no secret how I do it, really. It's always back to basics: music, friends and family, and myself. I'll keep the religion low key. While my mantra "keep the faith" encompasses my personal religious beliefs to some extent, I use it more for the motivation on all fronts. It's finding something to believe in. It's the best way this punk has found to keep it DIY.

On the music front, I've had quite a bit to be psyched up about lately. A couple of weeks ago, I slipped in to a small club to see my friend Goran play a Simonout show. They've spent the summer doing some sizable festivals around Europe, and the band is certainly getting tighter. It's really quite a good show to see, and I'm looking forward to their album release, hopefully scheduled for November or December.

Goran and I always talk music when we see one another (he gets into the pub once in awhile). Whether it be about Pulp or Bob Dylan, it's nice to hear things from the perspective of a musician; sometimes it's a bit better of a conversation than simply, "I like the song because you can dance to it."

There's certainly room for songs that you can dance to, and I appreciate it when someone can make the remark that they do like the song because of a specific element, whether that be the driving beat, the chilling piano, the haunting lyrics, or whatever.

Lately I've been listening to a lot of Course of Empire, partly because of the great memories I had of seeing show after show, but also because it's just good music. It's funny how listening to one band can trigger a thought, and I found myself hitting the internet searching for other bands from the same era.

Almost by accident (actually it was because I'd just loaded a few tracks from a Tim compilation onto iTunes, heard a song I hadn't listened to in a while, and then quickly went on line), I found some old 12 inches on the industrial front. Some of it is a bit darker and harder, some of it is a bit more electronica. I'm particularly thrilled that last Saturday, I found some really rare Secession, a Scottish synth band from the mid 80s. I absolutely went nuts trying to find their one CD release about 18 years ago, and I've treasured that CD ever since. Now, I've got a bunch of additional gems that I never thought I'd find.

Besides Secession, I dug really deep and found some Robotico Rejekto and Cetu Javu. Ironically, both of these bands are German, but Cetu Javu is a bit unique in that their lead singer is Spanish, and now teaches at a university in Hannover. (gotta love Wikipedia, eh?)

I'm sure my iTunes library is experiencing all sorts of confusion, as suddenly the heavy punk stuff is getting mixed with quite a few extended versions of 20 year old electronica. Just when you're saying, "well hell, let's have a party," someone comes forward and suggests just that.

My German teacher had a look at my stuff the other day, and asked if I would make her some mixes for the pub's "end of summer" party which will be held this coming Saturday. We spent a few hours compiling a song list, and I discovered that I already had a fair amount of what she wanted. Okay, I never thought I would be downloading an Ace of Base song or Ricky Martin, for that matter, but it's her party. I'm just sorting the track order and burning the discs.

At any rate, it's been great rediscovering some excellent excellent stuff. My office colleague has been forced to listen to a few things that are outside of his tastes, but that's what happens sometimes. Don't stop the music.

I'm quite fortunate to have some pretty great friends that constantly support me from various parts of the world, particularly the states. In Germany, you are pretty much a Bekannte for a period of time. Eventually (say a year or two), you might become friends. At least that's what a lot of the culture books say.

I can appreciate this to some extent, but am always a little unsure of how or where I stand. I've had some good chats with some of the English speaking regulars in the pub, particularly those of us who have our own code in the POS system, and I do feel a part of things, accepted. That's all well and good; it's particularly nice to be able to interact with the neighborhood and its residents.

Obviously I know a fair amount of Germans after living here for 10 months, and consider several of them friends. Initially, I perceived that people were being a bit cautious, but over the past months they have seemed to warmed up. However, with the exception of Stefan, the guy I've known longest, I'm not exactly sure if these others actually consider me to be a friend, or merely a really good acquaintance.

A couple of months ago, during one of the rougher weeks I had in summer, I happened to meet a girl that left a pretty good impression. We had a few beers together and a really nice conversation. I left the pub that evening feeling better than I had in weeks.

Though she said she'd come back to the pub a couple of weeks later (after a business trip), I was still surprised when she showed up, but again, we had a nice evening chatting about all sorts of things. Each Tuesday evening since, we've tended to hang out at the pub together.

I must say it's been pretty great, and exactly what I needed in Frankfurt, particularly with the amount of unpleasantness associated with my work. At least outside of work things are much better.

Strangely, I really have no idea how this girl feels about me. Since my love life can pretty much be summed up track for track in the album "How I Spent My Summer Vacation" by the Bouncing Souls, I think I prefer to stay as naive as possible about that situation.

Right about now Moe is saying, "Bupkis."

I don't have a great response to that, other than that the girl Simone is simply too special to me; there's no pressing need to run off and try to force something that may or may not be meant to be.

She was out of town this past weekend, but I look forward to giving her a big hug when I see her tomorrow night.

So, besides the music and the friends, I keep looking for any reason to smile. Don't take this to be an act of desperation, it's just that sometimes it's a bit challenging to find the humor during rough spots, so you have to look a little harder.

Next to afore mentioned girl whose name is difficult for me to pronounce, the biggest reason I'm finding to smile right now is Arsenal football. The team is playing so well and so attractively. English press tends to be a pretty fair weather outfit; most of last season was filled with reports of how poorly Arsenal were playing, that they were lost without the efforts of Thierry Henry, etc. It certainly got old reading that press, particularly since the club were really not playing all that well.

It's early in the season, but Arsenal are showing real signs of maturity. The average age of the club is still quite young, but kudos to their manager for putting his faith into building a club that can do some wonderful things. The English press is once again using all kinds of superlatives to describe the quality of play that Arsenal are demonstrating. Indeed, it's certainly worth a subscription to Fox Soccer Channel (for those statesiders that don't already have it). I have to rely on a few pubs around town to ensure that I'm seeing matches. I missed Saturday's match (caught the highlights off the internet), but I found out that an Albanian bar in the city showed the match, so I'll add that to the list of venues that are possible matchday options.

Other random smiles are coming fairly frequently, thank goodness.

During the morning commutes, the trains tend to be pretty full, and Darmstadt is a pretty busy stop. Thus, when we all get off the train, we move as a large mass up the stairs, which becomes a bit complicated because there's always one or two people trying to get down the stairs to catch the departing train, and almost always someone has a bicycle.

It goes without saying that you kind of have to watch your step, much the way you do at a crowded concert or sporting event in a large stadium. Unlike the stadium, where the aisles are only big enough to allow two people to walk, the stairs at the train station allow for about 8 people across. Basically, if you trip and fall forward, you'll potentially knock everyone down in front of you; you fall "up the steps." Likewise, if you fall backwards, you've basically just fucked everyone behind you.

I've been waiting all year to see an accident, not because I like to see (not much, anyway) people experience pain, but because I wanted to see how big the domino effect would be.

Last week, I was walking beside three guys and one of them suddenly went, "Oh! Oh!" and I realized that he had tripped and was falling forward. He grabbed on to the first thing he could, which happened to be the girl in front of him. She started to fall forward, but the guy just needed to stabilize, so he managed to hold himself up as well as the girl. In the end, we all started laughing because it was such a close call: had he tripped into me and all four of us guys fallen backwards, we would have knocked over close to 25 people.

OK, maybe this is where I have to say, "maybe you had to be there" to appreciate the humor in the situation.

Wow, it's about all I can do to get this piece finished up. It's taken way too long, and covers a few too many topics. Furthermore, I started this last Friday, and am just now finishing it up. The party at the pub Saturday night was pretty successful. Certainly the music was excellent, and once again, I probably should have skipped the tequila shots (or was it the combination of pils and chupitos?). Sunday was spent sleeping and trying to not think about the return to Monday work.

Today, it's business as usual. Loads of emails, a handful of meetings and the excitement of some plumping problem in the mens' restroom.

keep the faith

bryan

Underground Rock DJs - Left of the Dial

I'm really missing music right now. There's a noticeable emptiness in my life without a piano, and that's been particularly frustrating as of late. Of course, should I find myself sitting down with an opportunity to play, I think I'd prefer to do so in the privacy of a sound proof room so as not to give anyone other than myself the chance to hear how horribly I probably play after a year's hiatus.

Sure, there's a guitar sitting in my living room, and it has sat there quietly for the past few months as I've been mucking around with work and everything else. Guitar has never come easily to me, but it sure came better when I actually played regularly.

I miss singing in the Alboraya choir, too. Lynne has had a few concerts throughout this year, and I always liked hearing the reports; a chance to live vicariously.

Fortunately, it's not been a total disaster. I've finally loaded my laptop with a couple of gig worth of music and that's been a real benefit. A friend told me about a little PC subwoofer system he bought for 30 Euros, and I found it to be excellent. It may not be the best way for me to have music floating around (I'd much prefer the wall of sound stereo components), but it's certainly filling the void.

Though I've got a buddy who does play locally in Frankfurt (this Saturday is his next show), I've not seen too many shows. However, I have seen a couple, and have also had several nice discussions about lots of different music groups and styles.

From those discussions, I've listened to some stuff I never would have discovered otherwise, and on the flip side, I've got a few people listening to Alkaline Trio and Course of Empire around Bornheim. That's flippin' cool.

One of my goals for the year was to get a few more CDs played on the stereo in the pub. Once the pub reopened under Ray, I was able to slip a few things into the changer, and I'm personally glad about a double disc of Alkaline Trio that's made it into rotation on a semi regular basis.

But, it seems that a lot of folks like a bit more fiddly type music in an Irish pub. My argument that we could just play more Flogging Molly and the Dropkick Murphys met with a bit of push back; the idea is not to have the music force the patrons to go to another establishment.

After listening to some of the more mainstream selections the pub was playing, I realized that I might have the perfect CD lying around: a four CD compilation of music we referred to as "underground" back at the end of the 80s and early 90s. While there are several popular songs on the comp, the majority of the songs really make you say, "wow, I always liked that song but just didn't hear it that much."

Certainly, this stuff didn't really have a big place on the radio airwaves, especially after George Gimarc left Dallas radio. Since that was way before Internet radio, we were forced to keep trading music tips amongst ourselves. That went really well until we got more and more busy with jobs and families and stuff and had less time to peruse the diminishing alternative record stores about.

Last Friday when the light bulb went on, I scrounged around in my drawer and found my CD which has this tasty compilation, then took it over to the pub and asked Ray to play it some time. He put it in immediately, and without further ado, people were sort of perking up saying, "wow, what's this?"

Several hours later, I told John how pleased I was that my CD was still playing. I was a bit nervous, since after the four Cd's of 80s rock there were two discs of some pretty lively punk (under the compilation known as "rock against bush") and didn't want the barman to get riled up. Sometimes punk is perfect in the pub, and other times even I'll admit that perhaps we should listen to something else.

I was the last man standing at the pub that night, due in part to the cool music and due in part to the good crowd at the pub that night. Stefan was around, John was there, I had a cool chat with Nathalie (she, like John, has been recently introduced to COE), and Simone came in with her sister and a friend. All in all, quite the nice evening.

In fact, the evening went a bit too well. I spent most of Saturday trying to get motivated to get out of bed. I skipped the gym, the shopping, and all the other stuff I had planned to do, and tried to remember if I'd really had a shot of tequila or not.

I did get to the store for milk and bread before I had my German class, then proceeded to get a real schooling in Genativ, Dativ, and Akkusativ: it's the German version of the subjunctive in Spanish. Talk about really difficult...

At the close of class, Ninjaa and I walked next door to have a drink, and ran into Max, Heike and Stefan, who all helped me to pronounce the name Simone. You'd think this wouldn't be that difficult for me, but as it turns out, I've been butchering this poor girl's name, and frankly, I'm embarrassed. (I would like to point out that it's my tendency to use Spanish pronunciation with a lot of German words; I'm struggling to break that habit)

I'd intended to have only one guinness, but that led to a second, then a third. Why? The tunes were super groovy, okay? I looked down to the end of the bar to see Ninjaa singing along to a Sisters of Mercy track, and then watched her get even more psyched up when Joy Division came on. Gotta love it.

Stefan talked me into heading down the street to our old standby, Sugar. There, we had a few margaritas each, and that right there would have made for a nice Saturday night. We had all the intentions of calling it a night, but then we ran into Abu, who told us that we should go down to a place called Chameleon (Karma Karma). Why not?

The place was supposedly just a few more meters down Berger Strasse, but just when we thought we weren't going to be to find it, we rounded a corner to see a bouncer standing outside the bar.

Inside we went, telling each other we'd each have a beer, then get on home. Abu appeared out of nowhere, then Howie (a German regular at the pub who happens to love John Hughes films) showed up and invited us to, er, a couple of shots of Jagermeister.

I really think had we stopped after the one shot, I would have been OK, but caution was flapping around in a gale storm, so of course we had another shot or two along with a few beers.

Stefan danced, and Howie and I exchanged a few "Bueller? Bueller?"s with each other.

Finally I came to my senses and signalled Stefan. It was time to go.

All right, that meant that Stefan agressively tried to push the door open to get out of the club; unfortunately the doors opened in, much to the irritation of the bouncer.

Out on the street, I immediately headed in the wrong direction, and Stefan pointed the right way. We staggered back down the street, and what should have been a simple 3 minute walk seemed to take quite a bit longer. During this time, Stefan talked to a bush, took a leak on some flowers, and misinterpreted a passerby's suggestion that "you shouldn't piss on the flowers; it's a 20 Euro fine" for a sexual solicitation, which prompted him to make a remark, which then set off the passerby, who was certainly not into that.

For a moment, I thought we'd have a bit of trouble, which none of us really wanted. It was more comical than anything else, and very much out of character, the agressive remarks, that is.

I had a quiet word with the stranger, and the scene melted into nothing.

Stefan and I stopped for a cigarette outside of the Irish pub, before I declined Stefan's invitation to sit down at an empty table. It was 5am, and time for bed.

Sunday, I couldn't feel my face. I don't know how I got up to watch the Arsenal match, and I'm not really sure that an Irish breakfast was a real good idea. Arsenal played well, and after the third score, another patron murmured, "Wow, that's real enthusiasm, Bryan," as I continued to sit there.

"There's really no reason to yell," I responded, and went on to explain that I'd had a rough night.

After the match, I thought I'd head to the gym, but ended up sitting at home watching Kids Incorporated on YouTube for a couple of hours before finally collapsing on the couch to watch a James Bond film on TV.

Monday came well enough, but I couldn't seem to get out of the house. At 8.30, I forced myself down the street to the U-Bahn, passing the Gelato shop that some people I know own. "Wow, looks like someone poured petrol on their patio furniture and torched it," I thought to myself while waiting a couple of extra moments to light a cigarette.

The work day was a catastrophe, but I got through, and willed myself into the gym, where I had a pathetic workout. I gave up after an hour, and headed for home.

As I passed the same Gelato shop (now without any furniture in front), I decided I'd better have a chicken salad for dinner, so trudged into the pub (like I'd actually have lettuce in my house!) where I found Stefan sitting at the bar.

We had a few chuckles as we compared stories from Sunday and Monday. Stefan remarked that I looked like shit, and of course I replied that I ALWAYS look like that. I did have a nice salad, then finished with brandy and port to hopefully settle my stomach, which was still feeling a bit unfriendly.

With PreFabSprout playing in the background, Ray told me that, indeed, a disgruntled guy who used to live above the Gelato shop had poured gasoline on the outdoor furniture and set fire to it around 3am the night before.

On the positive side, the temperature here is dropping into the high 40s at night, so not too many people are sitting outside; autumn is here. (On the not so positive side..HOLY SHIT, somebody burned something down in my neighborhood!)

So that's how my September has started. Hessen is quickly becoming a non smoking region. Those of you on the anti-smoke campaign can be happy that I've not been sneaking any more smokes on the trains.

It'd be nice if my work permit was back in force, but apparently it's going to take several weeks. That's not too cool, but we'll figure something out. Hopefully.

It strikes me that given my present residence/work situation, perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to go out two night on the trot and tie one on. However, I'm thinking it was EXACTLY what I needed.

So Stefan, vergißt du nichts Coconuts, Tanzen, und that Nancy Sinatra song, "Strawberries, Cherries, and ..."

Remember the tunes, listen to the tunes, and Alles wird gut.

keep the faith

bryan

iPods, song requests, and Advil can be sent to me at my address in Frankfurt.

Fashion Police, Champions League, and Body Grooming Accidents

I walked into work this past Monday and was really touched when a colleague contacted me immediately and asked how I was doing. He and I had planned to go to the Frankfurt Eintracht match on Sunday, but I declined based on the grounds that I wasn't feeling too festive. It really meant a lot for a colleague (albeit it a good one) to show so much concern (for someone that technically is still an acquaintance); that's not normally a character trait of the Germans.

That afternoon, my German teacher sent me an SMS with words of support, also. Yet another kind gesture.

Only two folks here were made aware of Lorie's passing, and both took the extra step. Most impressive.

I talked with Lynne on Monday night, and that really helped to have contact with family during a tough time. I was glad that Lynne sounded in good spirits, considering.

Tuesday, I elected to wear the boots, jeans and skinny tie to work. It's a bit of the Bryan really thinks Joe Strummer and Suggs are really cool look that I've been known to wear periodically. I'd forgotten that some people might interpret the attire a bit differently.

"Hey, you look kind of like the Blues Brothers, today," said someone in the hallway near the canteen.

"Er, it's a bit more two tone, actually," I responded, though I think the explanation was lost.

"Meeting someone tonight?" asked another colleague.

Oh shit, I am, but that wasn't the purpose of the Dicky Barrett outfit.

Later that evening, I arrived at the pub only to have two waitstaff compliment me on my dress, and while I graciously thanked them, I pointed out that the tie I was wearing was 20 some odd years old and had a lot of miles on it. Just goes to show you that you CAN be sick on your clothes several times during the course of two decades and still have them look OK at a later point.

My friend Simone arrived a bit later, and immediately had something to say. Ultimately she mentioned that black ties on white shirts were something that you wore if someone died.

The previous week, I had expressed my concern about Lorie to Simone, but it was a passing comment. For reasons I can't yet explain, I really hadn't planned to go about telling anyone in my neighborhood (including her) about the sad news. However, I was really surprised at Simone's comment.

At any rate, we had a few beers together, caught up on things, and had a nice chat. After a couple of hours, as we were getting fresh drinks, I raised my glass, and toasted the memory of Lorie. Then, I proceeded to explain the unfortunate recent events from the weekend. Simone seems to be pretty caring and thoughtful, so I was glad in a way that she now knew.

This girl tends to make me smile a bit, so I woke up Wednesday feeling better than I had in several days. I was late to work, which didn't help my productivity rate, as I had to leave rather earlier for an appointment in Frankfurt later that afternoon.

It seems that I'm not exactly legal in this country at the moment. My visa expired at the end of June, and everyone seemed to have dropped the ball as far as extending everything. I thought my company was handling everything, but as it turns out, I was wrong. Thus, I turned to a woman who helped me locate the apartment, and she was able to offer her services.

So, we met for a beer in Hauptwache, and I gave her all the necessary documents that she'd need. Hopefully we'll have this sorted in a matter of days. I'm waiting on confirmation that she completed everything and that there will be no further issues save for a penalty fee for being a bonehead who didn't get the application submitted on time. (I used to say a few sarcastic things about people who lost their green cards in the states. I won't be saying those things any longer.)

We parted company after the one beer, and I headed home to get ready for Arsenal - Sparta Prague. Arsenal just needed to clinch the aggregate victory and then be qualified for Champions League football.

Of course I watched this match in my local, and had a nice conversation with John while keeping one eye on the screen. Arsenal scored an early goal, then mucked around for 70 minutes or so before scoring two more to complete the rout. My spirits were starting to improve.

I stayed a little later than I should have having a couple of chats (and probably a pint or two), then headed home, where I decided that I'd do just a bit of shaving with a recent purchase I'd made. I'll skip the product brand, the humorous advertising campaign, or the chuckle when, after reading an email exchange a couple of weeks ago, I headed out to my local electronics shop to pick one up. It sounded like a cheaper alternative to a trip next door to the waxing salon.

Well, my apparatus attacked me! I've now got a little nick where I'd just as soon NOT have one, and that makes me laugh and get pissed off at the same time. It's a funny story now, and could have been even funnier had I not noticed that my bathroom window was wide open just before I fired things up. I'm not sure I want all of those neighbors getting a front row seat, so shut the blinds and cursed the real estate agent who had shown the flat that afternoon to a potential buyer.

Tea tree oil is the perfect thing for a little nick, so I'm now all better thanks very much. Perhaps I'm a bit sheepish, still, but that's just cos' I just documented it in this piece. Thank goodness I don't have a digi camera, eh?

Arsenal home to Portsmouth on Sunday, but right now, I think I'll head home from the office and see if I can create some trouble before then.

keep the faith
bryan

Today Is Not the Best Day of My Life

The two days holiday I took last week to just sit in my flat and muck around was absolutely brilliant. I felt refreshed on Monday morning, coming off of a long long weekend. Part of my positive mood might be attributed to the fact that I ran into a really cool girl on Saturday night after my German class. She usually comes into the pub on Tuesdays, but she decided to pop in on Saturday night, and we ended up having another really good conversation.

The workweek was hectic like usual. Our new division president came in to tour the site, my customer came in to have a civil discussion, and I managed to keep visiting the gym, even doing a bit of cardio workout each time.

Tuesday brought another good evening sitting with Simone, and Wednesday night I watched the Germany-England football friendly. I did something silly and ordered several pairs of shoes from the US. That in itself isn't so silly, but the shoes are made in England. Unfortunately, I've been unable to locate a distributor on this side of the ocean, so I've got to give my money to some place in southern California, pay for shipping to Europe, and take the hit on the exchange rate. Leave it to me to find that my favorite shoes are really obscure.

During the week, I also talked with my sister and Moe from their vacation spot in Spain. That was a cool 15 minutes, albeit a bit expensive on mobile phones. We made plans to talk again on Saturday evening when they got home from the holiday.

I congratulated myself on being so productive Saturday afternoon. I'd jumped up in the morning, had a bit of breakfast, cleaned up the apartment, hit the gym, completed the shopping, and made it over to the pub to watch Arsenal play Man City. I really like to have these types of days where simple routine takes over.

Arsenal played well, as did City, but Fabregas scored a nice goal to give the win to the gunners. Greatly relieved, I paid up and had a quick chat with a few folks on the patio before heading back to my flat to prepare for my German class.

I expected Lynne to call at some point, so I was ready when the phone rang. I was surprised to hear my mom on the other end, and was immediately concerned. She was in tears.

"The news is not good. Lorie Fraizer has just died," she said.

My mother had sent an email indicating that Lorie had recently been having some respiratory problems, and the unfortunate suspicion was that she had PPH (Primary Pulmonary Hypertension), which is rare and serious. Lorie's sister Amy had this same illness in the past 10 years, and ultimately had a lung transplant. Indeed, a very serious condition.

I figured that things would be a challenge for Lorie, but assumed that, like her sister, she would recover to a point where she'd have a pretty normal life. However, it was most unfortunate that the doctor, during the medical examinations, discovered she was pregnant. The best thing to do for everyone, based on the circumstances, was to terminate the pregnancy. It was putting too much pressure on Lorie's lungs.

Well, Saturday morning at 6.30am, Lorie went in to labor, had a heart attack, and died.

My mom, upon hearing this news, phoned my sister, and then phoned me.

Mom, Dad, and I talked for a few minutes or so, and I asked how Lynne was. "She's very upset," responded my father.

After a few more emotional minutes, we ended the call, and I phoned my sister. We talked briefly, then Lynne said, "let's talk on Sunday," and passed the phone to Moe. Moe and I talked for awhile about the devastating news, all of which is still mind blowing.

All of this came between 7 and 8pm Saturday evening, mere hours after Lorie's death. At 5 minutes before 8, I sat out on my balcony in tears, just thinking about things. In a matter of minutes, my German teacher would arrive for class. I didn't know what to do.

I wasn't sure if I might just burst into tears or what, but Ninjaa and I sat down and I explained the recent events, in German. I went on to relate the facts: Lorie is my sister's oldest and closest friend. Lorie played on my football team in the states. I've known Lorie as a sister for about as long as I've known anyone. Lorie got married last year; a wedding that my sister jumped through hoops to be there for. Lorie was a super cool person who makes you feel like the world is going to be OK, despite all of the world's problems.

For the next two hours, we had an open conversation about death, friends, family, and life. My level of German was certainly not ready for this, but I scribbled many notes during the class, and at 10, we wrapped things up. Ninjaa mentioned that she hadn't been sure of what to do when she arrived to begin class, but she thought things went OK.

All of this was still hitting me, but I think the class helped. We headed next door for a pint, and found John, Isis, Ellen, and Derrick. We joined them out on the patio, and several other people came and went. It was rather a low key evening, as there was a festival in another part of the city that was drawing all the crowds. With the exception of Ninjaa, no one at the table had any idea about my sad news. I enjoyed being with everyone, I needed to be with everyone, but I found myself getting distracted from time to time as I thought about Lorie.

Everyone has their ways of dealing with tough news. I'm glad that I continued with my class and the personal wake that I held in memory of Lorie. If I were stateside, things would be different, and I am struggling with the isolation that I'm feeling at the given moment. I'm worried about my sister, who's in the same situation. We can talk to people here, but none of them know Lorie. Likewise, with the distance, it's not so easy for us to talk to those that were close to Lorie.

My parents seem very far away right now, and as they mourn Lorie and keep the Frazier family in their thoughts and prayers, I know that they're both thinking about my sister and me.

I'm doing the same thing from Frankfurt. I'm fondly remembering the family camping outings we took with the Fraziers years ago. I recall all the times that Lynne and Lorie would pal around together in youth group at church; both of them would always keep an eye on me, the younger brother.

I'm lucky that I've been able to become good friends with my sister's two closest friends. Initially, I found that a little unusual. Here I was seeing her friends all the time while she was in Spain. Moe and I saw countless movies and rock shows, and sampled margaritas all over Dallas. Lorie joined my football team quite a while back, and I was proud to have her on the pitch as a teammate and a friend. While Lorie was athletic, she was not a professional footballer, but she improved her skills season after season. Co-ed indoor soccer can be a real challenge, and during one rather tough season where we couldn't field enough females for our squad, she played as the sole girl. This meant that we played shorthanded, but Lorie continued the fight and spirit, even as the full strength opponent wiped us off the pitch.

Lorie and I had plenty of chats after football matches, usually out in the parking lot of the soccer center. We were always able to talk about family events, my dismal love life, and all the kinds of things you'd talk about with a sister. I was just lucky to have a sister on both sides of the ocean.

Life brings a lot of ups and downs, and I have to learn to live with all of it. At the same moment I rejoice at the birth of Benjamin Adams, I am saddened to learn of Scotty's latest challenge with cancer. There's always a lot going, a lot to think about, reason to celebrate, and reason to grieve. Through it all, the show must go on.

I'll spend today on my own, just reflecting, keeping thoughts of Lorie and the Frazier family close to my heart.

keep the faith
bryan

99 Not Red but Blue Balloons

OK, the title of this piece has no relevancy whatsoever. However, I was asked recently to use 99 Luft Balloons, and I just can't do that. First off, I already use too many references to 80s music. Second, there are better bands out of Germany than Nena, though they weren't that bad, actually. Grab a pen, Heather. Christina Stürmer, Juli, Die Toten Hosen, The Donots, just to name a handful. Check all of these out, and then, if you want something really fun and cute to listen to, check out Tokio Hotel or US5. Then, for a final bit of Deutsch Musik, Rammstein.

Last week I entered the weekend with a bit of sadness. After many miles of action packed adventure, I no longer own a car. Yep, my father has completed the transaction, and now, if you happen to see a silver Golf with a Spanish auto sticker on the back, it will be sheer coincidence. The car was good to me, and I'm sorry to see it go. Sure, it wasn't doing any good just sitting in front of my parents house, but it was nice knowing that I always had wheels somewhere in the world, even if I'm on foot most of the time.

On a more serious note, I've discovered that the next door neighbors of my parents are having some challenges. My parents still live in the house I grew up in, and virtually all the neighbors have been the same. My 4th grade teacher and her husband have always been a part of my life, at least while I was in Richardson. Though I haven't seen them all that much in recent years, we'd certainly keep tabs on one another (though my parents). Well, Mr. Sword was found to have Alzheimer's last week. This week, they're moving into an assisted living community, primarily to insure that he can get the care he needs.

So, two of my links with Dallas have now disappeared in a very short time. I have good memories with the car, but it's just a car. Nice sound system, though. The Swords, on the other hand, that's another thing. I'm sorry not to have an opportunity to speak with Mr Sword again, and hope that Mrs Sword can find her strength through her tough time.

I was reflecting a little about the past last weekend as I headed out for the first day of the Bornhiem Kerb - a festival that takes place in my neighborhood each August. This was the 400th, and I've found that most people (English or German) are not too sure of the significance, but that certainly doesn't stop the festivities.

Last Saturday afternoon, opening day of Premiership football, I headed out on the plaza to have a few beers and watch the parade go by. As parades go, it was OK, but basically full of the same kind of floats you'd see at just about any parade. In short, parades are little more than an excuse to have a couple of beers, and since when do I need an excuse for a couple of beers.

It was a bit alarming to see the neighborhood fill up so quickly, though. More and more people came into upper Berger strasse. Lots of kiosks were set up to sell beer, and after catching the end of the Liverpool match, I joined John outside the pub to watch a band called Heartbeat play on a little stage. They were billed as a rock and roll cover band, and they just weren't all that great. The lead singer was a woman who used her voice a little too much, and it made things a little annoying. However, from time to time, the rhythm guitarist sang, and his voice was a bit more listenable. But, an opportunity to stand around outside in a crowd of people is not something I'm going to pass up, particularly at my first Bornheim fest.

The crowd continued to grow throughout the evening, and I kept right on having pints, and thankfully paused to have a burger, only slightly helping the beer to food ratio. I'd sms'd Stefan earlier in the evening, and he finally came out around 10pm. We proceeded to continue the festivities until the wee hours of the morning, and as usual, instead of stopping at the sensible moment, I overdid things with a couple more beers and maybe a couple of shots of jager...

Sunday came with only a slight twinge in the head. I got up about 11am, did a few domestic things, then headed next door to watch Arsenal. I'd already cleared it with Donal; he was NOT to give me any beers during the match. I was only going to have coffee and OJ, along with a breakfast.

Like every year, I was totally excited about the opening Arsenal match. I was giddy, and feeling ready for a new season, one that should be much better than last year.

54 seconds after kickoff, however, things took a nasty turn. Our keeper, on a normal clearance, casually kicked the ball right back to the on rushing forward of the opposing side, and he tapped the ball into the net easy as you like, and suddenly the score was Arsenal 0, Fullham 1. What the fuck.

Two other Arsenal fans had walked into the pub 2 seconds before the howler, and they were immediately in foul moods. Chris texted me with the same question, "what the hell?" and for the next 70 minutes I was feeling pretty bloody awful.

After more than enough chances, we finally equalized on a penalty conversion. Relief. I'd take the draw, and hope like hell we'd do a few different things in practice during the next week, starting with the keeper having to run tons of laps for his mistake.

Well, in injury time, Hleb brought a ball down, turned his defender, and scored the winner, and just like that, Arsenal started the season with a win. So we can come from behind after all, eh? Yep.

I stayed true to myself, and drank OJ the whole match. Afterwards, I went home and hung out on the internet, and hours later realized that it was time for bed. I went to bed thankful that Arsenal had won their first match, and ManU had been held to a draw.

Monday brought the shocking news that the president of the division of the company I work for was fired the previous day. Gulp. That was the guy who hired me back into the company. I was feeling a little down for him; I was sorry to see him have to leave under the circumstances, but truth be told, this industry is always harsh. With the way things have been going, it was only going to be a matter of time before executive management would make changes.

My German teacher notified me that she'd have to skip class that night, so I headed instead to the pub for a little dinner. John and I had a little chat, then elected to get silly with a bit of port and brandy. I never thought I would enjoy that drink before, but with the right type of port, it's actually really really nice.

Right now, Tuesday is my best day of the week. There's a cool German girl Simone who comes in to the pub to practice English. We've been having some really nice conversations, and it doesn't hurt that she likes the Sisters of Mercy. I'll spare the rest for the moment, but it's refreshing to chat with her, and keeps me smiling.

Unfortunately, we always stay out too late, so Wednesday came too quickly, and I had loads to do. I ripped through a busy day at work, then took five minutes to chat with my boss as I was heading home from the office. "It's only 5pm, what are you doing taking a half day?" he joked.

We discussed a few things. I was going to be out the rest of the week, and he's off on holiday for the next two weeks. I wanted to be sure everything would be covered.

The Bornheim Kerb festival ends on the Wednesday, and the scoop was that it would be mighty crowded around my street from about 5pm on. The party would carry on into the wee hours of Thursday. Thus, anyone living in the vicinity was better off taking Thursday off because even if you wanted to sleep Wednesday night, you wouldn't be allowed to with all the other folks out and about.

I got to Bornheim by around 6, quickly put my stuff down, and headed to the pub. Minutes later, the usual suspects showed up. Philip, Max, John, and then Derrick walked in. The band playing Wednesday was Dr. Evil, a cover band that played mostly hard rock. Judas Priest, AC/DC, Rammstein, and other "metal" type songs.

After two quick beers, we stepped outside to see the show. Oh, by the way, check out www.irishpubbornheim.de, and you'll see the venue, my local. In the picture section, you might even be able to see the back of my shirt.

So, this band started with a vengeance, and I was pretty impressed. Sure, the set reminded me a whole lot of a junior high dance gone terribly wrong, but that was the beauty of it. I never like to admit that I nod my head along to a Whitesnake song, but sometimes that's what you have to do.

A German girl (another cool one, actually, who looks devastating in DMs) leaned over to ask who sang one of the songs, and I had to respond, "Linkin Park." I was hoping to NEVER have to admit I know who that band is. (note - actually, I spent a frightful summer making Derrick listen to Good Charlotte every day as we drove for a coffee, so perhaps I've got some issues.) It was all really good fun.

The beers kept flowing, and once again, we all seemed to forget to eat until it was too late. When that happens, you know what the next step is: have another beer. Stefan showed up around around 9 or 9.30 just as the band was finishing a set. We had a nice little place carved for ourselves in striking distance of the bar, but in great position to see everything.

The band finished their break, started a new set with a great track, and suddenly the sky opened up and it started raining like hell. We held our ground, and stood through a considerable rain shower as the band continued, "Breaking the Law, Breaking the Law..."

So, we got totally soaked, and then I turned around to find Simone standing there. She was out with her sister and friend. They were headed down the street, but would come back. Meanwhile, we just kept grooving. For some reason, listening to a band play covers of "Whole Lotta Rosie" just hit the spot.

During the evening, I checked out the Arsenal match. They were playing away to Sparta Prague for Champs League qualification. Mona, one of the waitresses, kept giving me the update, and then excited told me when we scored the go ahead goal. I eventually got inside the pub to see the team score another goal, ensuring victory, and I was by then most definitely a happy drunk idiot.

The rain didn't really deter the crowd, though apparently not everyone was drinking at the same clip as those of us who'd scheduled off for Thursday and Friday. Eventually, Stefan turned to me and said, 'I'm damaged," which is his way of saying he's done. Of course, by this time it was past 12, and most of us were in some state or other. Most of us were still wet, even though the rain had stopped a bit earlier.

I don't know how we continued, but we kept ordering pints, and those of you who have stuck around on a St Patrick's parade day on Greenville would have been proud. Every 5 minutes or so, you'd hear the sound of another glass breaking as it fell from someones hand. "Wow, can't these people control themselves," I said as I tapped glasses with the girlfriend of a guy I met. "Er, I'm really sorry about that," I whispered as her glass basically broke in half with the contact from my glass. Oops.

Well, at some point I remember sitting on the stage between Sina and Heike. Derrick and Philip were around, and after I almost drank from the wrong beer a third time, I knew it was time to go. How nice to know that home was just steps away.

I smiled on Thursday morning, even with a pounding head. How cool Wednesday night was. I did a few reports early in the morning, then went back to bed for several hours. Later, I got up, had a bit of breakfast, then took a nap. Around 8 I got off the couch, then watched a James Bond movie, then went to bed for the night, dreaming all the way.

This morning, I realized how much I'd needed to take a couple of days off. I had a couple of coffees during the morning, then cleaned the crap out of my apartment. Around 1.30, I went to the gym, worked out like a banshee, then stopped by Saturn on the way home to buy a little subwoofer for my pc. Now, I'm able to get a bit more base in the house, and I'm quite impressed.

I've been listening to a lot of rock en español over the past couple of weeks, which has been a nice reminder of last year. Throw in the constant barrage of Alkaline Trio, Thought Riot, and Street Dogs, and you can imagine what my neighbors might be saying right about now as their walls are shaking.

So the weekend is now beginning, and I'm hoping to stay on the pace. There's loads of work to be done, I've still got the same challenges in the office, and next week, the new president comes to see our repair site. Neat. On top of that, I may have some legal excitement in the coming weeks as I try to get my visa application submitted, albeit a few weeks late.

I'll just smile and say, "thank goodness things are going ok right now."

keep the faith
bryan

soundtrack
Street Dogs - Hard Luck Kid
091 - Fuego En Mi Oficina
Alkaline Trio - For Your Lungs Only
El Ultimo De La Fila - El Loco De La Calle

It's About Time I posted Again

Wow, has it really been one year since I was stateside? Incredible.

Once again, it's vacation time for many Europeans. In Spain, most of the country will be shut down for the next month, probably the same in Italy. Here in Germany, someone is ALWAYS on holiday. It continues to amaze me that we've been able to get anything accomplished at all in our repair facility. If someone isn't on vacation, they're covering for someone who is, so all in all, productivity drops considerably.

Somehow, though, I've managed to dig in, get my arms around things, and have managed to make some progress at work, but only just. There's a certain degree of fragility that could easily mean that things go to shit in a matter of seconds. Fortunately, I've come to terms with this, and can laugh at the situation, and myself. In short, the doom and gloom and triple B-sides of Joy Division from June and July have faded, and the normal service of my wacky life is back on track. Funny that I realized this while listening to an old Sisters of Mercy disc. Hey now, hey now now, sing this corrosion to me...

Summertime in Frankfurt really is nice. The temperature never gets so unbearably hot. The terraces, patios and beer gardens are constantly filled with people out enjoying themselves. I'm glad to say that I'm one of those people. OK, it certainly helps that one of the best terraces in the district is steps away from my front door, but besides the optional opportunity to have copious amounts of beer, it's really a great place to sit back, have a few laughs, and see loads of people.

The other week, I sat down with Max and John for a guinness and just enjoyed the scene. There's always bound to be some form of entertainment, whether it be someone tripping on the sidewalk and falling flat on their face or one of the waitresses dropping an empty glass or two. No sooner does someone remark, "Hmm, wonder what will happen next?" when some little kid riding a small bicycle without any pedals (kind of like a Flintstones bike) zips past and plows into some pedestrians walking in front of him. I'd actually pay money to see something like that.

Yeah, I still tend to spend a fair amount of time in the pub, but have been lucky to meet some really nice people, both in English and in German. Stefan and I still meet there frequently to talk about how we probably drink too much. There are plenty of football fans about, and, while there is a bit of diversity, most of us support one of the big three English teams: Liverpool, ManU, and of course, Arsenal. I've not seen any Chelsea fans around, and I think that they've been run off.

Normally I can get updates on community happenings in the pub, but somehow I failed to acknowledge that on two consecutive Tuesdays during July, there were strikes held by the train employees. One week was heavily publicised, and I arrived at the station to find loads of TV cameramen hanging around taking pictures of the morning commuters standing, waiting for a train to run. That particular morning only created a two hour delay for me; I arrived around 10.30 to the office.

The next week came as a complete surprise. Again on that Tuesday morning, cameramen were around (they wouldn't be so annoying except they were standing in front of the kiosk where I get my coffee) and I realized that things were going to be more tricky. It's not as if the whole station shuts down, though it does become rather chaotic as all the passengers are standing around trying to figure out what the hell is happening. On this particular day, only one union had chosen to strike, and I'm not really sure if it was the conductors or not. At any rate, they pretty much announce that the train is going to leave, so everyone boards, then sits, then the departure time passes, then they announce that the train isn't going anywhere. So everyone then gets off the train swearing, grabbing their mobile phones to call someone, anyone.

I chose to use my handy and call my boss, telling him that I was basically screwed for the morning. He said go home, and come back later in the afternoon. I took the opportunity to do some shopping and laundry along with a few things for work. By early afternoon, the strike had finished, so I was able to get into the office finally, did a few hours of work, then returned to Bornheim where I enjoyed a few pints on the terrace. Just another day in Frankfurt.

While these situations don't really bother me, they can be a bit inconvenient. Thank goodness I don't have anything so important going on that can't be delayed for a bit. I figured I'd just try to be more alert so at least I would be more prepared.

Thus, when John mentioned that they were about to begin some construction on our U-Bahn stop, I perked up. Basically, they've limited the service on our stop for two weeks (this last week and next). It means that I've got to ride for three stops, get off and transfer to another line, then continue on to the train station to get my commuter train to work.

It's actually been easy. No real delays to speak of. I've noticed that all of us who are so used to the normal routine (particularly for the morning and evening commute) have adapted well. For the first couple of days we all kind of were confused, but suddenly we're all in the groove. Hopefully we'll revert back to the old way once the project finishes next Saturday.

I continue to get a kick out of the whole train travel thing. Everyone has their routine, where they like to stand on the platform, etc. Lately, about every fifth person has their nose in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. It seems no one can put the book down. Interesting that so many Germans are choosing to read the book in English as opposed to waiting until the German release, scheduled for October. I read it myself last weekend and am waiting to talk about it with someone else who has also finished.

There are always a couple of nutters hanging about on the train or the U-Bahn, which just makes for added enjoyment. It can be a little unnerving at times, but you just have to tell yourself, it's only heroin.

As I continue to feel more a part of the community, I constantly find interesting things out about the culture. Germans tend to follow the rules, so things tend to run in an orderly manner. However, if there is no rule, then it's a free for all. For example, there is no rule about crowding and being pushy on the metro. There's also some grey area when it comes to cyclists on sidewalks. Just last night a guy had a spirited conversation with a friend of mine about his distaste for cyclists. Simone uses her bike all the time, so she was getting wound up. Meanwhile, Bob made himself a little badge stating his name and, "Anti-cycling League." Quite funny stuff, particularly since I've never been hit by anyone (though I've had a couple of narrow misses) pedaling through a walkway.

Life in the village of Bornheim just seems right. You quickly get used to the men who gather in the square at 7am to drink vodka or whatever. You take it in stride when you see random wackjobs about. There are at least four people I know of that in all likelihood are completely insane, yet they frequent the pub regularly, shop in my local market, or loiter around the kebap shop. You just have to stop, smile, and keep on keeping on.

It's nice to sit here on a Saturday, listening to some groovy music, listening to the spin cycle of the washing machine, the temperature a pleasant 24 degrees. Later I'll go the gym, throw the weights around, and perhaps I'll clean the dishes that have been sitting in the sink all week.

I'm well aware that I'm on a (not drug induced) high at the present moment. Yesterday my estate agent let me know that I've got my flat through the end of the year at least. That solves my housing situation for another 5 months. My contract is renewed through June 2008, and this week I'll get the paperwork filed. If I keep this up, I'll have permanent papers that enable me to do anything in any EU country. Rocking.

Yes, the job could quickly go to hell in a blink, but I'm still proud of what I've done. My team is responding, and I received a bit of compliment from the girls in my admin team; they're all really pleased that I am trying to help and support. Plus, they think my German is funny.

Special thanks to those of you who drop me the random emails. Keep them coming. I don't always get a response fired off, but I've read them and like hearing about everyone's updates. Hope the "hickey" cleared up for you, Heather.

Reading the emails is always a nice link. I read Brandon's write up of the Burn game the other day (without Beckham) and how cool a time that sounded. I look forward to the next match I can get to, which reminds me McKee, Emirates beckons. We need to make some plans rather soon. We don't have to get the silly third kit, either.

For my sister, keep the faith, Lynne. We'll talk soon. Enjoy your next few weeks outside of the office and also be aware that you're due a trip to Frankfurt. Soon.

I spoke with both my grandparents in the past two weeks. My grandfather just had a birthday, and he's mid 90s, now. Sounded pretty lively when we chatted the other day, which was very comforting to me.

My grandmother is having a bit of a rough time at moment. A very close friend of hers is in some legal trouble, and he's got some serious medical issues, too. I'll skip the details, but pretty crazy stuff. Somehow, my grandmother is pushing through, and she's staying solid. I'm still so in awe that she can find always find something positive in a really bleak situation. It makes me proud to be a Barlow.

So, the Community Shield is tomorrow, and next Saturday the Premiership begins. Football is back, and I'm fucking psyched. Arsenal have a squad full of people I've never heard of, and it's going to be a nutty season, as always. Ray (Bornhiem Pub) has kindly printed up schedules for us so we can keep on top of who plays at what time on which station. Nice touch.

That's the bit for now. It feels good to write again, and perhaps soon I'll write about this exceptionally cool girl I met the other week. How's that for a cliffhanger?

keep the faith
bryan

German tongue twister I'm working on:

Brautkleid bleibt Brautkleid und Blaukraut bleibt Blaukraut

soundtrack
Sisters of Mercy - Dominion/Mother Russia
Secession - Sneakyville
Alkaline Trio - Fine Without You
Journey - Don't Stop Believin'

The Heat is On

Well, after a rather cool few weeks and months in Frankfurt, it's finally gone and gotten a bit warm. Today's temp was around 30 degrees, and will be for the next several days. Mind you, nights do get cooler, closer to 20 degrees or so.

I've been delighted up til now, since I'm one that prefers to have things a bit chilly. In Spain, I understand that it's been dismally hot, like always during the summer months. I remember all the sweaty days I had over there last year. This year, today is the first day I've been uncomfortable. Still, a cool glass of beer or fifteen, and I'm sure things will be OK.

Two Saturday evenings ago, I sat down with my German teacher for the first time. We met from 8-10pm, then nipped over to the pub for a few cider. Last Saturday, I was sick, so begged out of class. Tonight, she hasn't come, so I'm taking advantage of the time to put up a quick post.

Frankly (I almost wrote Frankfurtly), I'm kind of glad to skip class tonight; I'm just not feeling like studying. That was a bit of a concern I had initially, the loss of motivation to have a class for two hours on a Saturday, but it was really the only time either of us had free. The class is important, and I don't want to lose momentum after our first class.

The decision to start private lessons came in a couple of waves. First, I just haven't had a lot of time to do self study. Yes, I do read textbooks and stuff on the commutes to and from work, but it's not as focused as it needs to be. Second, unfortunately there are still too many opportunities where Germans prefer to speak English with me instead of German. Yes, I know that there's really no excuse, but that's when I get lazy, especially with the current life zapper I'm putting up with doing the job.

I don't try to beat myself up too much about the lack of German I've got under my belt. I realize that I've only been here 8 months, and this language is not the most straightforward. From those that I've talked to, a lot of Germans don't even speak correctly. I have several colleagues who speak German, but according to actual German colleagues, their German is really a mix of German and their own native tongue; in some cases this is Russian, Italian, etc. So, maybe I'm not nearly as far behind as I thought.

During my commutes, I tend to spend a lot of time observing and reflecting about all the different experiences. The mornings at the U-Bahn are sort of interesting, as everyone seems to be a bit grumpy, including myself. At first, I thought it was just the early morning; I mostly try to catch the 7am to the train station. Recently, I've had to travel a bit later, and I've discover that everyone appears just as grumpy. I'm quite sure that they all can't be as unhappy as I am (with work), so I continue to wonder.

I actually prefer the time waiting at the train platform in the Hauptbahnhof. I see the same people every day, and everyone has their little routine, their favorite coffee kiosk, their favorite place to stand waiting for the train, etc. There are one or two people from my neighborhood in Frankfurt that actually make the whole commute with me, from Bornheim to Darmstadt. I've never spoken with any of them, but we all seem to acknowledge each other along the way.

The sun is starting to set, and I'm up for heading next door for a little dinner and celebration of the barman's birthday. Should be a decent night out.

cheers
bryan

Good Grief, Davy Jones' Locker Really Sucks!

Holy shit. I continue to be wrapped around the axle with the job; June was more difficult for me than May. In fact, I felt a little like I'd been stuck in some crazy ass locker, and I'm quite sure Keira Knightley wasn't trying to come save me.

I'm not actually sure that a visit from Keira Knightley would help all that much, though I'm certainly willing to find out.

Honestly, I reached certain lows over the past month where I almost chucked everything. Certain aspects of the job just aren't worthwhile, and my mental and physical health has really taken a hit. My confidence got blown away after a couple of meetings with my customer, one of which was in Brussels.

I think I freaked my mom out, as well as my sister, but truth be told, I've done a fair number on myself, never mind anyone else.

A couple of weeks ago, I sat by myself in the pub, just having some beers and trying to make sense of it all, determine my next steps. After a few pints, I apologized to my friends for being anti-social, then left the pub in a very dark mood. I really thought I'd have to take some drastic measures, but unfortunately, was feeling a bit short on plans B, C or D.

It's funny how this goes, though. Half the time I don't know whether I'm coming or going. I've got colleagues who are leaving cos they're sick of the rot. Me, I'm choosing to stick it out and see how it goes, all for rather strange reasons.

For example, because my train was late one morning, I got to the station too late to catch the bus, so had to take a taxi. The driver recognized me, and said how much he had enjoyed our conversation the last time I'd been in this situation, which had been several months back. He's a really good guy, and I was touched that he thought so highly of our 10 minute conversation from early April.

I've never had an experience quite like that, something so simple as a taxi man who appreciates me enough to offer a 1/2 price fare from Darmstadt to Frankfurt, normally a 75 Euro trip. He's basically told me that anytime I need a taxi, call him.

I met a delightful girl the other week who speaks remarkably good English and Spanish, and she happens to be German. We've had a couple of nice conversations, and perhaps we'll have a few more sometime soon. It was nice and refreshing to meet someone so nice, and it gave me reason to smile, which is something that just hasn't happened all that frequently in the past few months.

The girl that cuts my hair complimented me on my German the other day, which was another nice thing, especially since my German teacher also gave me a couple of compliments a little bit later that same afternoon. I'm making bits of progress with my umlauts and "ccchh" sounds.

Everything about this experience in Germany has been pretty cool, with the only dark point being the job. It's not so much the job that's the problem; it's the fact that I've got to do so many jobs that is making things so difficult. I can't wear 4 or 5 hats, I can't do all of the tasks that I'm forced to do, at least not without dropping a lot of balls along the way.

The job caught up with me physically; I've been down with a bad cold all weekend, but after taking it easy and watching three seasons of Beverly Hills 90210 on some website, I feel like the right thing to do is to psych up and continue to get this account sorted out. We'll start that first thing on Monday morning.

I've not had much time to get upset about the departure of Thierry Henry from Arsenal. He's left the club and will play at Barcelona starting this August. I guess I wish him the best, but it's the transfer window that sort of pisses me off about European football; players say they'll stay at a club forever, then leave the very next season. Bugger. Thank goodness I didn't put in an order for the new Arsenal away kit with Henry on the back of it; I would have had a boring collector's item that cost way too much.

During the roller coaster of June, I did manage to see a couple of films, including that Pirates of the Caribbean stuff, and wow, that could have been a whole lot better, no? More entertaining for me was finding a Russian website where I could pull down a few mp3 albums for about 1.12 usd. I never thought I'd have Seal's greatest hits, but it was the right price, you know? Besides, it brought back a few great memories of college, including one fine afternoon on top of some deck where we all enjoyed quite a few beers while sitting in the sun.

The memory was triggered because one of the guys that was there now works in Brussels for Stella Artois, and I certainly would have called him the other week had I not been getting the crap beat out of me by my customer.

I feel out of touch right now, and that sucks. Unfortunately, I'm a bit isolated, and a bit behind on emails, phone calls, and stories. I do appreciate the inquiries and the hellos, they do mean a lot, particularly in these fab times I seem to be experiencing at the moment.

So, I'm off to have a coffee and do a little work. I hope desperately to be able to write a few more pieces in the coming weeks; it's surreal to live in a neighborhood where some men sit out in the square at 7am sipping vodka out of little bottles, and I think it deserves a whole story.

Here's hoping that I'm not on track to becoming one of those guys.

Thanks a lot for the support, particularly from my sister. Go wondertwins.

cheers
bryan

soundtrack:
Alkaline Trio - Remains (full album) (you probably could listen to it three or four times over)

Just When You Think It Can't Get Any Worse...

Wow, I now believe I can say with extreme confidence that everything related to my work is a "total cock up."

With desperation, I was so hoping that June would be the time when I could dig out of the horrific May, but alas, I was completely wrong.

Things that weren't working in May are now worse. Things that were working in May don't seem to be working now. In fact, I'm not sure anything is going right at all.

In order to keep things a little vague, I'll refer to my programs as big customer and little customer (though with a big ego). Well, big customer has gotten more and more frustrated with our services over recent weeks, mainly because we simply can't get everything done. We've already had two "crisis meetings," and this past Friday, the European manager brought his Japanese managers in to tour our facility, and it was a total shambles.

The technicians got nervous and didn't show well. The customer didn't like our processes, our line layout. In fact, they basically said we were shite. Sure, my boss was there, as was my business unit president; quite the highlight of my career, yeah?

By the way, we've had some logistical nightmares in Spain; UPS can't seem to collect any packages on the first try. I've got some units that have needed to be picked up for almost 20 days. My customer's biggest retailer, El Corte Ingles, has decided to stop selling the products, and they account for about half of Spanish sales.

As if this weren't enough, my little customer has recently become such a challenge that I've been forced to spend 6 to 8 hours a day on that piece of business. That's on top of the 10 to 12 hours I need to put in on the big customer. As you might have guessed, I've quickly run out of Bryan.

I spent Friday entertaining my big customer, though I probably should use a better word than "entertain." A film crew was in house to figure out how they wanted to shoot a promotional video. They were accompanied by my direct counterpart (the cool techno girl) as well as a new member to their customer service team. I tried to spend as much time as possible with them, but then techno girl's manager arrived with the Japanese.

When we began the tour of the facility, I was hoping that things would go pretty smoothly. Nope. We spent 2 hours plus on the repair line and EVERYTHING went wrong. At one point, I muttered something about shooting myself in the head with a very big pistol, to which the angry customer said, "no way am I letting you get off easy."

The customer finally got sick of looking at everything, and sent the Japanese on to their hotel in Frankfurt. Meanwhile, he stayed behind and read me, my boss, and my boss' boss the riot act. During that joyous occasion, my stateside colleague phoned me 10 times, as I was unable to attend a daily conference call with him, the stateside managers and the European manager of the little customer. We'd had a big push to get a lot of things done by close of business Friday, and I'd sent a frantic email to the internal team stating what needed to be done, only to find out that sod all happened. So, my colleague got the crap beaten out of him for my team's failure to execute.

Of course, I couldn't get out of my own meeting to join the conference call; I was in the middle of my own pounding.

Finally, the customer had to catch his cab back to the airport, leaving us to sit in a stupor. I'm not sure what you're supposed to say in these kinds of things, but I think I said, "Hey Kris, thanks for coming, yeah?" to the customer as he got into the cab.

Next week, the CEO of my company, along with my BU president, my boss, and my UK colleagues will spend a day in Brussels getting the bejeezus kicked out of us. This is our third chance to put things right, and while I won't say that I've been completely clean, I will say that this program involves managing a call center, managing logistics around Europe, and two repair facilities. As a company, we've been unable to get our arms completely around this. We don't have enough support and it's quite possible that by the end of the week, I'll be sacked.

My little customer continues to want a piece of the action, too. Their management is coming to Weiterstadt next week, and apparently they're going to be particularly pissed with me, as one of the days there going to be here I'll be out of town on business.

Friday, to sum up, was absolutely awful. I spoke with my UK colleague for about an hour on the train home, then spoke with my US colleague for another hour, having to apologize profusely for leaving him to get smacked about while I missed the teleconference.

It's a bit warm here at moment, and as I finished my phone conversations, my phone started acting up. I tried to power down then power up again, but there was a bit of moisture in the phone, probably from my sweat.

Long story short, I put in the wrong PIN number three times in a row, so the phone now wants the PUK number before I can reset. I've been trying my PUK number since Friday, and have managed now to get my SIM card totally rejected.

To some extent, that is probably a good thing, having my phone out of order. But, I know that I had about 20 voice mails on Friday, and I'm sure a few more have come in over the weekend, and I'm screwed until Monday when hopefully my colleague Claudia can get me sorted out.

I spent Friday night in the pub, beer in hand, trying to make sense of it all. I was so exhausted that I just kept drinking until 3am (I didn't arrive there until 9.30 or so; it's not as if I was there for 10 hours) and felt only a slight ache on Saturday. Saturday I never left the house, choosing instead to read and think. Fortunately, I did pop out for some groceries just before the store closed.

I've done a bit of work today, but feel OK about not working yesterday. We had a local holiday here on Thursday; I worked 12 straight hours.

Listening to a lot of Clash right at the moment, laughing at the irony of "Safe European Home", "Career Opportunities", and laughing also at the reality of "Straight to Hell."

Unbelievable. As much as I wouldn't mind being back in Spain, I certainly don't want to have to go because I screwed this up in Germany. I was actually kidding when I mentioned that before.

A friend is celebrating his birthday this evening, so I will go up and have a drink or two with the group. I just wish I had another way to take away the anxiety; Monday will be here too soon.

So, there you have it. This week's pathetic update. Here's hoping that something improves very very quickly.

keep the faith
bryan

Milk it does the body...

Just a quick one to let you know that my sense of humor hasn't completely disappeared, despite the challenges of my life just now.

As you know, I'm quite the coffee fiend, and the weekend ritual involves me getting up, usually with some level of hangover, and preparing a little espresso with my stovetop machine. The sell Lavazza at my local market, and that's a pretty good thing.

A week ago, right before my parents left town, I bought a few liters of milk, noting the sell by date but not too worried; it was possible that I'd be in Edinburgh late in the week, but would still have good milk upon my return, at least for Saturday morning.

Well, you've already read about my crap week, and let it be said that last Friday night I went out and tied one on.

Thus, I was fully ready for my Saturday morning coffee when I woke up. My little machine worked great as usual, and I poured the steaming espresso into my mug. Then, I poured the last of my milk into the mug, then set it down on the counter to cool for just a minute.

Powered up the laptop, connected to the internet to check the headlines, then went back to collect my coffee. The surface of the liquid looked a little funny, so I stuck a spoon in the mug and gave a bit of a stir. Well, apparently all of the milk curdled right on the spot; there was nothing but a big spongy mass of yuck.

For those of you who enjoy traditional onion soup, you know it is usually served with a sizable crouton on the bottom of the soup bowl. Every once in awhile, the soggy bread tends to gross me out, which is why I don't go out of my way to have onion soup all that frequently.

The disaster in my coffee mug was that times ten. I feared for a moment that my coffee was toxic, and or worse yet, that I was about to be violently ill.

Fortunately, I threw open the back door, inhaled deeply on a cigarette, and overcame my nausea. Then, I emptied the contents of the mug into the trash, and promptly threw out the milk, swearing to myself a bit because I really needed a coffee.

I went out for a few errands, got a haircut, then stopped by the market on the way home and went to the milk aisle, where I selected a different brand of milk: Alpenfrisch Milch, 3.5% fat.

Home again, and Saturday evening, I had a tasty coffee with some super milk that even Heidi would be proud of.

There's nothing quite worse than spoilt milk, but hey, it could have been so much worse. Thank goodness I looked before I gulped.

cheers
bryan

Keeping the Faith

Back at the end of the 90s, Miles Hunt of the Wonderstuff was doing a fair amount of solo work, and I happened to see him play a live acoustic set in which he played a song titled, "Everything is Not OK."

That song has been my theme song for the month of May.

28 days ago I wrote of my joy that my pub had reopened, my parents were coming to visit, and I was truly hoping that things would start settling down in the office, allowing me to have a nice month.

Boy was I ever wrong.

I've not had a particularly pleasant month at all. Virtually everything work related has gone tits up, as my colleagues in the UK frequently remark. However, I must clarify this statement. From an operations standpoint in my facility, my little program is starting to take off; we're making progress and doing pretty well. Colleagues are starting to take responsibility, and I'm encouraged that my efforts to build a program are showing result.

On the other hand, the project involves two repair sites and a call center. We've had quite a few problems in the call center, and the other site has had it's share of challenges. Furthermore, a few people involved in the management of the program have been off on holiday for a few days at various times during the month, and I've discovered that when they're absent, we absolutely fall apart.

At one point two weeks ago, I was trying to cover for about 4 people, and absolutely couldn't get everything done. Once or twice during that particular week, I was very nearly down for the count; unable to continue in the zany sicko world of program management in the repair logistics industry.

After this past week, I'd prefer the way it went two weeks back, simply shitty and horrible. This past week, I had the complete crap beat out of me no less than 150 times. Wednesday, after an unpleasant two hours on the phone with the European manager of a small program that I'm watching after, I hung up the phone and joined another conference call where the entire management team of my primary customer proceeded to yell and scream so loudly that the connection kept cutting out on the telephone.

Redundant as their message was, it was very clear that they're not satisfied with the way things are going. It's a bit annoying that they don't recognize their redundancy (each one basically said the exact same thing - the call center isn't performing, you've got a backlog, there aren't enough people working the issues, etc), but it's a bit humiliating that this is now the second time we've had this sort of teleconference. How come we didn't sort things out six weeks ago when they first told us their concerns?

Well, basically, we're trying to accomplish too much with too few people. This is a majorly complicated project that requires a fair amount of brain power. Unfortunately, there are three of us trying to make it all happen, and it's almost impossible, especially if the slightest thing goes wrong or someone is out of the office.

I'm reminded of the times when I played football with Muzzy, Stephen, Sean, and Shane; the Pogue Mahones. More than several times in 2005, we'd have 4 guys on the pitch playing against a team of 6. For the first 8-10 minutes or so, we held our own, possibly only allowing 1 or 2 goals. Then, we'd fall apart and proceed to get hammered for the remaining 30 minutes of the game, ultimately losing pretty impressively.

After those games, we'd always head straight to the pub and congratulate ourselves on our efforts. We always played ok, but were outmatched simply because we lacked a full squad. We told ourselves to be proud; other teams wouldn't have been able to hang in half as long as we did.

Well, I'm right smack in the middle of a cup final, against a team that, while not really any better than we are, happens to be well funded and has an unlimited number of players both on the pitch and on the reserves bench (feel free to say "Chelsea," if you like). We've played OK for a few minutes, but there's a lot of time left on the clock, and it's going to get brutal.

My analogy only works on one level, too. After all, I cannot and should not attempt to beat this team; they're my customer. (note - I might like a few quiet minutes in a dark alley with a couple of the folks that seem to go out of their way to kick us when we're down. C'mon, is it really necessary to point out that we're not sending out reports in a timely manner when we've just admitted that we're behind in sending out reports?)

I've been trying to figure out where we're going wrong with this project. I've certainly had moments where I could be making better decisions, and I think that goes for everyone in my company. We always seem to try and create a profitable program through smoke and mirrors, with one man behind a little screen. Sooner or later it catches up, and we all end up looking like fuckheads.

At any rate, that's pretty much the job update. One big Suck with a capital S. Plenty more of where that came from.

So, what am I doing about it? Looking for the humor in all of it, trying to keep my sanity, and trying to dig myself out. I will dig myself out, somehow or someway.

It's most unfortunate that my folks happened to be here during the roughest two weeks of the month. I did not see them nearly as much as I would have liked, and that's been a bit tough to handle. Here I was, in a perfectly appropriate moment to remark, "I want my mommy," and she was actually in town. Instead, however, I got a bit too caught up in myself and let them kind of fend for themselves more often than not. I think we managed to have dinner together five or six evenings.

My parents are quite the great human beings, and enjoyed themselves thoroughly during their time in Frankfurt. Sure, they would have preferred to spend more time with me, but also understood my complicated situation. They scouted out a bunch of great places in Sachsenhausen, which is the other hip district in Frankfurt. It's south of the river (how cool is it that there's a river running through my city?) and is full of nice little cafes and bars. My folks seemed to know everyone in the neighborhood by the end of their visit.

The three of us did get to celebrate Mother's Day together, though I was not in the best of form due to the fact that the previous evening I'd been to an open air concert involving Kim Wilde, no less, and had managed to consume some award winning amount of beer sold by the liter. Said concert involved a humorous moment where Stefan was kneeling down, calling Hieke to find out where she was standing. Stefan and I had gone on a potty break/beer run and gotten lost in the crowd of people. So, he was on the ground trying to hear the phone conversation, and I stood there holding the two liters of beer. A person standing in front of us put his girlfriend on his shoulders, which interrupted the view of someone behind us. The frustrated person ran forward to tell the guy to put his girl down, but knocked into me, causing me to spill most of the beer on Stefan, who stood up quickly with his back soaked in beer yelling, "shit shit shit!"

Ah well, it made for a good story later at the pub as we had a few more unnecessary beers.

I did manage to see the UEFA Cup and Champions League finals. UEFA Cup was quite the entertaining match, Champs League not so much. Actually, the FA Cup final wasn't all that hot either, now that I think about it. But, another season of football has ended, and now we wait until August when we start all over again. Yes, I know La Liga has a couple of games left, but Valencia has no chance of anything higher than fourth place.

As I look for the humor in life to help me through my rough spell, I realize that I'm a bit out of form. My mom and dad for sure noticed, and my barman has, too, just to name a few folks. It has always been difficult for me to try and skate through with a simple, "yeah, sure, everything is great!" even when it isn't. That said, I don't try to drag everyone into it, either.

So, even though there seems to be an absence of humorous events, I remember a few key moments of this past month: Going to the post office to pick up an autographed copy of Ian Rankin's The Naming of the Dead. I've just finished that book and feel a whole lot better about life. Thanks again, McKee.

Also, I finally got to have a chat with a guy who recently Maui'ed himself. The pix are great, Whit. Made me want to go buy some JCrew. (Please accept that as the compliment it was intended to be)

I started this piece earlier in the day, and have since gotten sidetracked by (go figure) work related things, but a brief skype with Pablo has made for a nice way to wrap things up. It's "halb acht," which is 7.30pm in english. Time to ratchet down for the day.

I believe I'll slip over to the pub for a couple, and perhaps prepare my schedule for the rest of the week.

keep the faith

bryan