I've Been Trapped Under the Program Management Rock and Couldn't Get Up!

Wow, it's only been two weeks since my last post, but it seems like several months. I've received more than a few emails about my last post; most of them expressed concern and support for my personal situation.

Initially, I didn't reflect too much about that post, but during a conversation with my sister last week, where she asked for the real story (along with updates) about the "brush off" event, I realized that my post might have come across as a little depressive and wallowy.

Let me take a moment to clarify things. I was more intrigued by the incident than anything else. When you meet a new friend, you go through the frequent hanging out stage, and I was just surprised that she did an abrupt back pedal; things had never progressed past the "heyhowyadoinletshavesomepintsandmaybeseearockshowtogetheroh
yourelockedoutofyourapartmentwellyoudbetterstayatmyplacetonight
sinceIhaveasparebed" stage. In short, this isn't all that different than the times I hung out in Dallas, had too much to drink, and had to stay at someones apartment. Of course, my situation was slightly unusual cos' if I got too drunk at McKee's, I was, er, already home. And more than once I locked myself out of my flat, too...

Yes, there was an awkward couple of days where Sonja felt uncomfortable, feeling that she'd hurt me, where in fact, she was misunderstanding my distorted facial expressions: I was being cautious, but also living a life with a mind filled to the brim with thoughts about the project I'm doing, learning a new language, and Arsenal football. I've since had a look in the mirror and better understand why she was thinking what she was.

Fortunately, the awkwardness from two weeks ago passed within a couple of days. By the end of the week, the comfort level was there and there you have it. In fact, she sat through several Arsenal matches with me: the FA Cup, the Carling Cup final, and the FA Cup replay. I'm not holding anything against her even though Arsenal failed to win any of those games.

This past week, she's become a little more uncomfortable again. She's been hanging out a lot with some new guy, and it seems that she gets a little nervous when I come into the pub and see them. I'm not completely sure why, but I'm not concerned. I've got too many other things going on. Besides, I have Heike, Susi, Barbara, and Helen right where they want me...

Now, on to more exciting things.

The job has blown wide open. The lack of posts in the past two weeks comes down to the amount of time I've had to spend fighting the political battles, overcoming production obstacles, dealing with a demanding customer, and "babysitting." I knew when I returned to this company that I'd be going right back into the same old crap that made me leave the job in the first place. All that aside, though, it's totally the right element for me. Swashbuckling program management, you know. Be. Like. No.Other.

I'll spare further boring professional details, for now. On to the updates on things like domestic appliances and DSL.

Laundry was a problem for me back in January. With a little patience and some extra spin cycles, I finally mastered the finer points of my washing machine. I'm used to drying my clothes on a rack that I set up in my bathroom. Sure, I'd love to dry my clothes out on a clothesline off my balcony, but no one else does it, so I can't either. Sometimes being the first on your block isn't the right thing to do, especially in Germany. I'd rather pick those battles, anyway.

A couple of Saturdays ago, I decided that I would run the dishwasher, since I'd accumulated a sink load of dirty plates and silverware and didn't feel like hand washing them. So, I loaded the machine (der Geschirrspüler, and yep, that word didn't just roll off my tongue the first 50 times I tried to say it), made a cup of coffee, then went into the living room to watch a bit of TV.

30 minutes later, I entered the kitchen to find a floor covered in soapsuds. Just so you'll have the comfort of knowing that I'm still on the positive mindset, I immediately thought of how clean my floor was going to be after I mopped up. After all, I needed to clean the kitchen that day anyway.

True, I realized my mistake: too much soap in an undersized machine, one that has only icons around the dial. I had merely pressed buttons and hoped for the best. What I got was hot soapy plates, a machine that hadn't drained, and a floor resembling a bubble bath.

I eventually sorted things out, and had to clean the dishes by hand anyway. I don't expect to use that machine again in future.

Last Friday afternoon, I took the afternoon off to sit at home and wait for the phone technician. Since mid-January, I've "had" DSL, only my box sat on permanent blinking green, which means that I don't have a DSL signal. The process of getting support from the help desk proved a bit tedious, because I wasn't able to call them up personally and explain the situation. Thus, my estate agent was doing the go between. Ultimately, after about three line checks with a response, "Alles klar," each time, I pointed out that, "Nein, Alles is NICHT klar."

From there, I got an appointment for last Friday afternoon between the hours of 2 and 8 for a guy to come out to the house and see what was up.

I made it to my apartment about 3, hoping that the telecom guy wouldn't be punctual. Sure enough, no one had tried to reach me, so I opened the mail, folded some clothes, and then answered the phone at 3.30 to someone who said, "Jetzt gehts." Now it works.

I looked down to see a constant green on my box, and smiled.

5 minutes later I was on line and checking up on the latest sports scores and weather reports. (feel free to interpret this as surfing porn...I don't care)

So, with a little patience, you, too, can obtain DSL service in Frankfurt.

I celebrated Friday evening by heading to my local, where I proceeded to get well and truly hammered with Stefan and Sonja. This actually led to me leaving the bar prematurely (not before one too many Baby Guinness, and please, don't even ask) and staggering home for a little nighty huuff! night.

Saturday began with a bit of toast and coffee and some internet. Ahh. Finally an opportunity to read the match previews before kickoff. From there, a trip to the gym, a haircut, and a bit of shopping. I skipped any opportunity for additional beers and made it a very early night, made slightly more comfortable by an Arsenal victory against Reading.

Sunday was pretty much like Saturday, except there was no haircut and no shopping. I did manage a trip to the pub later in the afternoon, but that was driven mainly by the opportunity to pick up a guitar. One of the barmen, Tom, has kindly loaned me his acoustic 6 string for a couple of weeks as I shop around. It's pretty nice, feels great, and sounds quite bright in my apartment. Unfortunately, my fingers have not been able to do all of things that my mind tells them to, so the first time I played sounded a bit like it sounds when you accidentally step on a cat. What a difference a year's layoff can make.

Back to the work thing. I'm impressed with the sense of humor of my colleagues in England. We have a very challenging program, with a very demanding customer. We've had more than our share of hiccups and obstacles, yet we keep pounding through, and we keep laughing. My German colleagues are finally getting the true picture of what a basket case truly looks like, but they're also beginning to realize and respect just what I bring to the team. Personally, I'm a little tired of having to offer up my first born child in order to get a CAPEX approved with the CFO, and this past Monday evening, I had to put my job on the line: if we're not profitable on this program, I'm out of the job.

After a statement like that, it's no surprise that I headed straight to the pub for a little relaxation. I found English John there and we had an excellent chat about music. John is closer to 50, and has slightly different music tastes from me, but he impressively knows about quite a few bands that I'm currently grooving to. I realized that I was carrying a nice tasty compilation that Trina had sent me a long time ago, so I asked Tom (who has quite the excellent taste in music himself; a Serbian Smiths fan - who'd have guessed?) to pop it in the CD player. Suddenly, the pub went from the Happy Mondays to a rousing Anti-Flag song. There was an immediate buzz among the other patrons, and John and I sat and listened for close to an hour, chatting merrily about the various songs from the Dropkick Murphys, Bouncing Souls, and Street Dogs. (for Jose Miguel - Tu nececitas comprar el disco de Street Dogs. El lider estaba en Dropkick Murphys hace diez años. Es fenomenal!)

Eventually, Goran (other Serbian barman) arrived with some friends, and I had to join him in a whiskey to celebrate his third anniversary in Germany. I certainly didn't need the shot, but you might argue that I probably didn't need the four Guinness I'd already had, either. After the drink and the greetings, I headed for home for some needed sleep. The week was going to be extra busy.

My problem with Champs League is that I cannot stay away from the matches. That pretty much means that I've got to go to the pub since I've no satellite TV. Two nights a week, just about every two weeks, for most of the football season. Springtime is pretty busy in European football, but during the week, it makes for a bit of a challenge; quite a few late nights in a row.

Liverpool - Barca was a good match. I wanted Liverpool to go through mostly so that Arsenal, assuming they advanced to the next round, wouldn't have to play Barcelona. I have a fondness for Liverpool in their traditions, both old and new. Besides, Rafa Benitez coached Valencia before moving to the UK. Congrats to Sean and Muzzy; maybe the final will be AC Milan and Liverpool one more time.

The other matches were predictable: Chelsea and Roma both got through. Valencia held on for a goalless draw which enabled them to advance (from the away goals rule; they tied 2-2 against Inter in the first leg). Right on.

I went right home after the match to try and get a bit more than 5 hours a sleep, which has been the steady average over the past months. Wednesday was the day for Arsenal's match, and they were faced with a sizable challenge.

The Wednesday workday was a blur of meetings, conference calls, and panic. I left work an hour later than I wanted, but that was probably a good thing. Champs League matches start around 8.45pm. Like I said, it can make for a late night.

My local really only has one TV that is reliable, so I had already elected to watch the match in another pub. A few years ago, there were several MacGowan's pubs in Frankfurt, all under one owner. They were referred to as MacGowan's Zeil (as it's on Zeil street) and MacGowan's Bornheim (my local). Actually, my pub is no longer owned by MacGowan's, and there is some confusion as to what the actual name is. Simply calling it the pub works for me, though.

This particular evening was my first time in MacGowan's Zeil. It's nice, and is actually a bit smaller than my local. But, it feels a bit more snug. The barman was from Australia, and he let me know which television would show the Arsenal match. Three TVs in the pub, and ultimately the smaller two would show ManU-Lille, and the big one would show Arsenal-PSV. Bayern Munich was playing Real Madrid, but the pub elected not to show that match.

I arrived an hour early, had a nice sandwich, then did my normal Arsenal match watching routine where I couldn't decide whether to stand or sit, constantly twitched, and gulped Guinness. That was all before kick-off.

Well, Arsenal scored off an own goal from PSV, and that was going to enable us to go to extra time. They needed another goal, but failed to convert their chances. After a rather silly foul deep in Arsenal's end, PSV sent the free kick into the box, and the same villain from PSV responsible for the Arsenal goal rose high above any Arsenal player and headed a brilliant goal. Score 1-1. Since PSV won the first leg, Arsenal needed to win the second leg, without allowing any goals. This didn't happen, and at full time, Arsenal was out of Champs League.

In two weeks, Arsenal have crashed out of everything. Finishing 3rd in the domestic league is their target now. Disappointing, but oh well, life goes on.

A German Arsenal fan named Richard has watched several matches at our local, and we frequently talk football when we meet. He'd indicated to me the night before during Liverpool's match that he had to work Wednesday, so I was actually surprised when he joined me to watch Arsenal's exit. I normally like to suffer these defeats by myself, but he was just as down as I was. The comfort was there, and all of us who support the Gunners can be proud of their accomplishments this season, even without silverware.

The U-Bahn ride home was solemn, but I've been an Arsenal fan long enough to know that this is just part of it. A night's sleep would put a fresh outlook on things. One positive would be that I wouldn't have to be a nervous wreck during the remaining matches.

Thursday I endured a little razzing from some colleagues at work, but that stopped when I poured a cup of coffee on a Bayern fan who was a little too cocky. (note - that sentence was completely fictitious; it was only water)

Part of my fresh outlook on the day was to hit the gym on the way home. By noon, however, that plan went down in flames as challenge number 946 hit me right between the eyes. Implementing and managing this project has been no easy task, but it seems for the past two weeks especially, everything that could go wrong has managed to do so with colossal magnitude.

Fortunately, I actually get off on these types of challenges, even though it takes a great deal out of me. I finally got out of the office around 8, and beelined to the pub for a pint. The intent was to have two beers, then a kebap, then off to bed, hopefully by 11.

Sonja and her new friend were already sitting at the bar, and after a quick greeting, I moved down to the end, where I met a man named Charles, who was sending an sms to his sister.
We started talking, and it turns out he's a Dubliner, but has lived in Germany for close to 17 years. He was in good spirits, and helped to improve my mood. A bit later, another friend of his showed up, and a bit after that, Stefan arrived. The four of us continued to cut up and enjoy the rounds of pints. Sonja came up to say a quick goodbye, and after she left, Charles made a comment that he hadn't seen anyone who showed so much tragedy in their face. I was surprised at his comment, but knew he was dead on.

It's true that Sonja has a few personal issues, but I know very little about them. Yes, there is some pain in her face, and one might conclude that she drinks quite a bit, but I'm absolutely in no position to pass judgement on either of those two issues. I've been a bit concerned about her more than once, and hope that she works out her life to her satisfaction.

So, Charles' friend left Stefan, Charles and I to have a few more pints, and obviously I'd exceeded my two pint limit by three possibly four. Stefan and I caught up a bit, then Charles explained a bit more about his work: he runs a small publishing company. That led to some additional conversation, and long story short, it's possible that I've got a way to stay in Germany should I screw up this program. Three months in and I've already got a contingency plan. Super. At the very least, I may get some consulting work out of it. And best of all, I made another friend who is willing to help explain the finer points of settling in Frankfurt. That assistance is greatly appreciated. The chimney sweep comes to my house Monday morning for an inspection, so I may need Charles' help sooner than expected.

It's time for the weekend, so I'll wrap this up with a few quickies:
Brandon, Karla, and Isabella - many congratulations - this world will be a better place with another Adams.
Jeff - congrats on the house - good luck with the move
Moe - thanks for the Indian Guides pics from summer. Very cool.
Heather - hope you're still hitting the gym. feel free to hit Kevin too.
To the Greenville Ave St Pat's block party skippers this year - it's not often you get to celebrate on the actual day, but the PingPong action sounds fun. However, I've not met a single German who is looking for a game of table tennis. I'll keep looking, but not on Saturday the 17th.
Trina - feel free to send me another compilation of punk songs that I'm probably too old to listen to - it's helping to create some additional excitement at my local.

To everyone thanks for the support, the emails, the happy thoughts. Special thanks to Goliad and the B-man.
Pablo, Vielen Dank für Alles. Airlift 1 ist hier! What a perfect way to arrive home at 2.30am.

I've been smiling all day.

keep the faith
bryan

Soundtrack
Front 242 - Tragedy For You
Street Dogs - Savin Hill
La Ley - El Duelo
Dropkick Murphys - Time To Go
Big Audio Dynamite - Rush