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
Friday, August 31, 2007
Sunday, August 26, 2007
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
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
Friday, August 17, 2007
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
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
Saturday, August 04, 2007
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'
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'
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