Last Thursday marked my third anniversary in Germany. In all the excitement, I actually forgot about this milestone, but I'll come back to that in a minute. First, let me catch you up on the fun filled adventures of the recent weeks.
Our company does an annual physical inventory at the end of November. However, because we've had so much turnover in the past few years, not everyone in the management team was as clued in as they should be. Around the second week of November during our weekly management meeting, when we went around the table to allow each person to give their update or comment, I asked the question, "Just when are we going to do this inventory?"
I was particularly curious, as the general manager, the finance manager, and the materials manager (namely, the three guys who should have this task firmly marked on their calendar) had sort of skipped over the topic as if it wasn't going to be done. My personal interest was twofold: one, I tend to have to run my program's PI personally, and second, we were about to have to make a pretty significant announcement to the workers, one that wouldn't be particularly positive. When you're planning a physical inventory, you need alert people who are prepared to make quality counts of the materials. You certainly don't want them distracted and not focusing on the task at hand.
However, in this same period, people were beginning to talk about the need for me to travel to Prague for a couple of weeks, and I needed to see how we could slot everything in. Doing a physical inventory over a couple of days, then doing month end close, then whisking away to Prague for a fortnight struck me as being a bit busy.
At any rate, as usual, we elected to perform the inventory on the 27th of November, which meant at the close of business on Thankgiving Thursday, our repair lines ceased production. I then jumped into gear, making all the normal preparations for the following day's physical inventory count. This required me to back up the system, run a couple of reports, then print out the count sheets that would be used the following morning.
The printing function was particularly fun this year. I've got the system set in a way so that each stock location gets its own separate sheet. This makes it much easier for the individual to count (as there are few lines on the page), but the drawback is that this does kill a tree. I kicked out about 2000 sheets of paper.
However, this year I used our superduper printer, which I had purchased earlier in the year for printing out the repair letter we send out with each repaired notebook. (Dear Mr Customer (in whichever language you want), We are sorry your laptop was broken, but we're glad to have been able to fix it for you...blah blah blah). Thus, instead of the 2 1/2 hour nightmare I experienced last year with multiple paper jams and delays, I got this task completed in about 20 minutes. In fact, the printer was going so fast that I started to become uneasy, thinking of a few Stephen King short stories I've read where normal office products come to life and start eating people. Thankfully, this didn't happen, though the security guard was momentarily panicked as he walked by the frantic printer as it shot out 100s of sheets per minute.
So, as most of America was sitting down for Thanksgiving dinner, I was lugging half a tree upstairs to the "command central," where the inventory would be managed. For control purposes, each sheet has to be hand stamped. Why our company uses only two stamps is beyond me, but I was more interested in getting my sheets stamped so I could go home.
One gets a better idea of what it's like to work in a post office when you start stamping so many sheets of paper. I worked with a colleague and together we found a system where we could zip through this process pretty quickly. Of course, once or twice I accidentally stamped his hand, but hey ho, casualties are bound to happen.
In about an hour, we got my program's sheets completed and logged with the finance manager. I excused myself for the evening, as it was already about 9.30pm, and I wanted to go home. We would begin about 7.30 the following morning.
Pleased with the efficiency up to this point, I prepared myself mentally for the following day by having a few pints in the pub before going to bed at 1.
At 5am, I was awake, trying to force a liter of espresso down me, then took the train back to work. I tend to be pretty psyched up about inventory day, because there's a lot at stake, and it has to be done right. Otherwise, the auditors might find something out of order, and request a recount. My goal: to complete an accurate inventory during the course of the day as quickly as possible.
Because I have to run the PI by myself (for my program), I am sort of left alone by the rest of my colleagues, who have to toil laborously with the other programs. The systems are more complicated, there's more confusion, and I'm always glad to keep my distance from it, despite the personal stress I endure while getting the team through the task.
At 8am, the whistle blew, and we began counting. I ran about like a little kid making sure everyone knew what they were doing, and had a few moments of frustration with one of the guys in the warehouse (who has dealt with materials all his life) who seemed to be confused about what we doing. I struggled to control my patience with him because he seems to forget how to do something almost as soon as he learns it. (Anyone who has seen the movie Young Guns can think of the line, "He ain't all there, is he?") The fact that he's the warehouse lead exasperates me, as typically, I should not expect him to have to ask me where a particular stock location is, particularly since HE is the one who set up the locations in the first place. I delegated the task of counting screws to him, went outside for a handful of ciggy, then headed upstairs to begin keying in the inventory sheets. (basically, for those who haven't done this before, you count up every physical piece of material you have, type it all into the system, then compare it to what your inventory report says you're supposed to have. When they match, you're done. It's as simple as that).
With the help of one colleague, I keyed in the count sheets as they were completed, and by just after lunch, we were ready to reconcile, and recount anything if necessary. The 15 or so people sitting in the next room waiting to do the same thing for the other programs in the facility were just getting started.
Uwe and I noticed that we were about 2 hours ahead of schedule, based on last year's inventory. That didn't mean we were deliberately rushing, but we did like the fact that each year we had improved upon the year previous.
Our counts were really good, and I wasn't suprised to find that we had very little to reconcile. In the end, we were about .8% positive, meaning a very minor difference between the system and reality. I think even Chris would say, "that's pretty damn good."
My finance manager, the ops and materials managers agreed, and we booked it. I dismissed the team around 3pm, and within the hour, I called it a day myself. We had accomplished exactly what I wanted us to.
Because things looked so good, I told my team that I would personally handle the audit that would take place with the accounting firm on Saturday morning. If they found any discrepancy, I would sort it out myself.
To celebrate, I went home and watched Love Actually and ate a pint of ice cream. It's not such a bad way to spend a Friday night, and my evening got better as I skyped with Lynne for a couple of hours. Although I was very tired, I rallied around midnight, and went off to the pub for a quick beer, which turned into a three hour session when I ran into a few people I hadn't seen in awhile who were in full swing celebration, also.
OK, Saturday morning was a little fuzzy, but with another couple of espressos, I was able to hop a train back to work and meet the accounting auditors at 9.30. Some of the counting teams still had more to do, and all of the data input people were frantically entering data, so I got to be the first part of the audit. Everything checked out, and 45 minutes later, I was dismissed. My bit was done.
Back I went to Frankfurt, did the shopping, hit the gym, and felt pretty good about things. I chatted with my parents and grandparents to catch up on their Thanksgiving festivities, then slid into the pub later for just a couple. I ran into Nev, who was drunkenly expressing his joy and celebration of marking his fourth year in Germany. He's one of those ex-Pats that I do like to see regularly, particularly since he simply finds a reason to enjoy anything and everything, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant it might be. Sure, his enthusiasm was fuelled with a couple of days worth of pints, but apart from that, I was touched by how appreciative he was of his experience.
The next day, I ran into him again, as I was watching Arsenal get mauled by Chelsea. As a Newcastle fan, he was not so interested in the outcome, though he was leaning in favor or the Arse. Unfortunately, his indifference didn't come at a good time for me, especially since he was still on his positive high of the celebrations of his fourth year (he basically repeated everything he had said to me the night previous). That said, I enjoyed his company and comfort as the final whistle blew on Arsenal's horrific performance.
I returned to work on Monday morning with a bit of anxious anticipation. True, the inventory was behind us, but I knew the week would be a bit tough. It was time to inform my team, and the other workers within the repair site that we were about to relocate my repair program. Fortunately, this task didn't rest on my shoulders, but instead the general manager of the site. Though this announcement would come later in the week, I was already a bit anxious about the reaction.
I'm sure in the weeks and months ahead I'll have many more stories about my personal thoughts about this iminent change, but right now, the events are still fresh and I need to time to let them become more humorous than they actually are. Fact is, management decided earlier in the year that our company could perform the European repairs for my customer more cheaply in our Prague facility. This came as no surprise to me, but the decisions on how it's being transitioned have led to a lot of questions, lots of anxiety, and thankfully, lots of humor, cos' with all of this comes a whole new fuckload of stress.
In the past few weeks, I've been on some conference calls with our UK and Prague facilities discussing the transition. The expectation is that my facility will teach everything we know to Prague, and they'll pick everything up in a short period and continue the program exactly where we left off. Our expectation (in Germany) is that the guys in Prague would actually have a fucking clue as to what they would be doing. Of course, one might argue that it's nigh on impossible to transfer three years of information to someone in three weeks, especially if the recipient of this information has never done computer repair logistics before.
Throw in a bit of confusing information from the customer about future volumes, and suddenly it's deja vu. Three years ago, I arrived in Germany to roll out a simply repair program that turned into the wildest, most complicated thing I've ever done in my life, and now, we're about to do the same thing all over again, just a few hundred kilometers to the east.
I've been effectively written out of the program by the boss, but the caveat is: I will transition the program and remain involved until completion of said transition. Um, define completion. It took me almost 2 years to get things stable in Germany, and that was at the expense of a great many things related to my personal life, unfortunately. Am I prepared to go through this all over again?
When I was about 5, I sang in the children's choir at our church. I recently remembered a story my mom used to tell about when our choir sang a little song about anger. During the chorus of the song, we were supposed to put on angry faces and sort of stomp around the stage (during the performance, of course). Apparently, I really got into this, as the choir director commented to my parents that Bryan was pretty enthusiastic during this song, really stomping around as we sang, "Very angry, very very angry..." Now, the whole idea behind the song was how it's ok to express your emotions, whether they be happy, sad, or angry, etc. One has to find ways of releasing agression. Now, when you're five years old, it's a little cute when you storm about with an angry expression on your face. (sort of surprising, though, that a little kid who was simply playing with legos, learning piano, and reading a lot was already showing signs of angst)
35 years on, it's not quite so cute.
I've been more than a little wound up in recent weeks as I've been waiting for this announcement to the team. On one hand, it's the nature of the business, and it's the only way we can continue the business relationship with the customer. The fact that I've been involved up til now and the fact that I must be involved in the future shows that my efforts have not been in vain. That's a positive. On the other hand, I am angered, frustrated, and deeply saddened by the fact that my colleagues, the team that I've built in the past years, are simply going to be told that, "times up, the program's going away, most of you will lose your jobs in the next couple of months." I'm one of those guys that will be around til the lights go out, but unfortunately, the same can't be said for many of the others. There simply won't be work for them, and that means we'll have to terminate contracts for those that we can't find spots for.
It's not a particularly pleasant situation to be in. Thus, I've had a few moments recently where I've stormed about singing a little childhood song to myself, mostly in the privacy of my own home. However, people have certainly noticed that I've not been the most chipper.
Fortunately, I am accepting what has to happen, and though I will continue to be emotional through this, I'm also recognizing the new opportunity and challenges as necessary things that have to be as positive as possible. Additionally, I continue to find the humor wherever possible, even if it's accompanied with a bit of dark sarcasm.
In a recent conference call where we discussed the go live date for Prague, it took 15 minutes for us to confirm that we would begin on the SEVENTH of December instead of the SECOND. It seems that cockney English isn't so easy to understand by guys in Czech Republic who speak English as a 3rd or 4th language.
"Second?"
"No, seventh."
"Second?"
"No, the seventh!"
"Ok, we'll begin on the second."
AAAGGGHHH!
I actually let this debate go on for a few minutes longer than I should have, and eventually jumped in and clarified to all parties. I found this even more funny since at times I'm not the most articulate of individuals, either. Once, I was having a conversation with my mother, and responded to the question, "what's new?" with the response, "I'm grooving to Spanish electronica and going to a lot of tapas bars."
She started doing the little nervous laughter that she tends to do when she's thrown into an awkard situation, (like when someone says fuck too much during a conversation, which has happened more than once during her trips to visit me in Germany) and I later found out that she has misunderstood my comments, and was unsure on how to react to the newfound fact that her son was currently into Spanish erotica and frequenting topless bars.
So on this past Monday, I certainly had a lot on my mind and almost forgot that I had planned to go see a show that night after work. In fact, due to some new developments on the whole transiton of the program, I almost didn't get out of work in time, but in the end, I caught my train, and strolled into a local club at 9pm, just in time.
10 years ago, I was at a SXSW show with Tim, and saw Miles Hunt of the Wonderstuff play an accoustic set. It blew me away. His humbled stage presence and ability to make a simple tune sound so great just reaffirmed for me why I had begun playing guitar. Like Joe Jackson has influenced my piano style, Miles Hunt was one of three people that motivated me to pick up a guitar in the first place. It's not that he's a brilliant guitarist, though he is talented. It's more his ability to write a decent song, both with the right melody and lyrics, and capture the right feeling for the moment.
The fact that he was playing a double bill with one Wayne Hussey, of the Mission UK (the second person who influenced my guitar playing, among other things) was certainly going to make for a decent evening. I was not disappointed.
Miles and Wayne are old friends, going back to tours from 20 years ago when the bands were still together. Now, they are in their 4os and 50s, playing small gigs on a regular basis, and just simply having fun. Miles played the first hour accompanied by a girl on violin; primarily new material from their recent album. It was nice to hear some new stuff, and equally nice to hear a few oldies, both from Miles' solo work as well as a couple from the Stuffies.
After they finished, they mingled with the audience a little, then Wayne came on stage, and started his own little session with us. Last year, he played a similar set (it seems he's quite popular in Germany, among other European countries) where he simply asked the audience which songs they wanted to hear.
Thus, Wayne rolled through many of the tunes any Mission fan would want to hear, and every so often would play a new song or two. As he did last year, he alternated between guitar and piano, in between slugs he took from the ever present bottle of wine next to him. Though he is starting to show is age more and more, his voice is still as strong and deep as ever before, and the small but lively crowd responded with great appreciation. This was no insane punk show, more a quiet accoustic evening, which I most definitely needed.
I stood quietly, sipping my beer, mezmerized by both sets. I ignored the folks around me who weren't much interested in Miles and Erica and kept chatting annoyingly throughout. I concentrated on the music, and, as I said, was not disappointed. I can't quite say I was ecstatic, but I was able to push the thoughts of what was to come later in the week to the back of my mind, at least for a few hours.
Two days later, I stood humbly by our general manager as he announced to my repair line of the coming events. I looked around at the faces of my colleagues as they listened to the short speech, and watched them as they slunk back to their desks afterwards. Though the rumors have been rife over the past two months, the word was now official: because we had done so well as a team and as program, our reward is that the work would be whisked away to another repair location in another country. well done.
My heart was a little heavy Wednesday evening, and it didn't help that Arsenal lost another match. I realized once again that even though I'm a huge fan of the club and a passionate football fan, there are certainly more important things to wonder about. (though what we're going to do about our inability to score goals while our top strikers are injured still weighs heavily on the brain...)
As I went to bed Wednesday night, I wondered how I'd feel after the site wide meeting to be held on Thursday. No one likes to hear about uncertainty within the company, particularly at the end of the year, just as seasonal festivities are hitting full swing. As I expressed this concern, a wise Nadja responded that it was exactly for this reason that I needed to be around friends at Thursday evenings outing for Gaenseessen, a seasonal, traditional goose dinner in a local German restaurant.
I'm glad I pushed my own thoughts to the side and joined everyone for a nice evening in the restaurant, followed by a couple of drinks in the pub. It was good to be around people close to me, and though I was a bit subdued, I did enjoy myself, and it was during dinner I realized that indeed, that very day marked my third year in Deutschland. Quite the milestone, and quite the adventure that I've had over the past years.
And it's really just going to continue, right?
On Monday, I'll be in Prague, digging in to get a potential train wreck of a transition sorted out into a functional, successful repair program. And, perhaps more importantly, my own motivation to continue to become a better Bryan. Thanks for that reminder, Nadja.
I got home last night and was delighted to find a little picture of a new McKee waiting for me. I smiled at the beautiful picture: a little sleeping one snuggled up to a stuffed lamb. I thought briefly about the recurring theme of stuffed animals and their significance in my own life, and that's kept a smile on my face this Saturday morning as I listen to a little mix of Vince Guaraldi, Moenia, Miles Hunt, and the Mission UK.
keep the faith.
bryan
Saturday, December 05, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
This Conversation is Over
Wow, this was a rather interesting week (he writes in his best understated style).
I was in the pub last Saturday (right after writing last week's bit) and found myself overwhelmed by Irish football fans watching the first leg of Ireland - France. I was actually destined for a birthday party, but found myself throwing back pints back at a rather decent clip (as I was to find out later), actually enjoying myself and the folks I was chatting with.
No need to relay the banter...but I did find myself enjoying the atmosphere, but around 2am realized it was best time to go home. Unfortunately, I elected to skip the birthday party, which would have been an ok idea, except the party was in my apartment building. Thus, the boyfriend of the birthday girl came downstairs to get me as I was trying to open my door at 5 minutes past 2. I couldn't just say that I was unable to attend the party, so I trooped upstairs for a little heavy metal and a couple more beers. Ouch. 5 am finally arrived and I begged off for a bit of sleep.
Sunday was a bit foggy, as you can imagine, but I found myself in the gym having a relatively decent workout, though clouded with some interesting thoughts about a variety of things. Normally I'm a bit reflective in the gym (which makes for some interesting facial expressions in the mirror), but this particular day kind of got to me. As a result, the rest of the days planned activities sort of fell by the wayside, and after the gym trip, I spent the rest of the day lost in thought.
I did have the good sense to go to bed early, and awoke Monday with a clearer head, but then ran into a friend of mine on the U-Bahn on the morning commute. She relayed the sad news that some woman around 68 years old had accidentally strangled herself early Sunday morning after having inadvertently gotten her scarf stuck in the escalator in the main train station.
What an unfortunate way to go.
This was a bit higher on the news line, followed closely by the follow up reports on the funeral on one of the German national soccer team goalkeepers, who had elected to end his life the previous week by throwing himself under a train in the north of Germany.
Unbelievable.
At any rate, my mind was pretty full of dark thoughts during the first part of the week, but I found an hour or so to jot down some personal thoughts Tuesday evening, which made me feel quite a bit better. At the very least I was able to sort out some of my own issues.
The same evening I managed to bang out some stuff on the piano for about an hour, so I was acutally in pretty good spirits on Wednesday when I got to work. I spent a bit of time preparing a presentation for a business review scheduled for Friday, and then suddenly one of my customers called and asked if I could arrange to get an extra AC adapter over to the hotel later that day, so it could be picked up when the customers arrived in town.
"Sure," I said, "but don't you mean on Thursday evening?"
"Nope, we're on our way to Weiterstadt, now," replied the guy.
"Um, aren't we scheduled for the business review to take place on Friday?" I asked, realizing that I already knew the answer.
"Let me pass you over," said my customer as he passed the phone to his colleague.
"Uh, let me get this straight. You're planning to meet with us on Thursday in Weiterstadt," I asked, starting to laugh. "Your email asked us to reserve hotels for other dates, and furthermore, some of our guys won't be arriving in Weiterstadt until Thursday afternoon, as we thought you had planned for a Friday meeting!"
My boss had just arrived to work about this time, so I relayed the information to him, saw the look on his face, and immediately switched the mobile over to speakerphone so he could hear for himself.
"No problem," my boss laughed. "Can you please come in around noon, though? We need a bit of time to sort of set up."
He went on to organize a dinner gathering for later that evening. I excused myself, as I'm not always a fan of the customer socializing. Besides, we'd be having dinner again on Thursday. One time would be enough for me.
So, I headed to the city, intent on getting the gym for a midweek workout. My IT colleague phoned me right as I was getting off the metro, and we talked for a half hour about our concerns on the upcoming project where we move the German operations into our Prague facility. There's a transition plan of sorts, that no one (particularly the two of us) has complete confidence in. Never mind the fact that this was precisely the reason we were meeting with the customer the following day, we were concerned because 3 years ago, the two of us set up the German operations.
As most of you know (since any post written between December 2006 and present have tended to refer to the catastrophe of my work as a somewhat difficult experience), the repair logistics industry is a constant roller coaster. I'm still coming to terms with the fact that everything I've built in the past three years is about to be uprooted and simply "switched" to a new facility.
This transition will be rocky at best, and I'm getting the feeling that I'll end up having to go over and do the same things all over again. The new facility doesn't have a track record of laptop repair, which kind of means that they stand to make the same mistakes as we did, even though we "knew" what we were doing.
It's a bit heartbreaking, since the team I built will be disbanded, and more than a few people will lose their jobs in the coming months. However, this hasn't actually been announced yet, and I'd be the first to say the timing is bollocks. ("Hi, due to the fact that we can operate more cheaply in the Czech Republic, we're going to give up your jobs and give them to someone else! Have a nice day!")
Thank goodness I'm not the one who has to give that speech. I'll just have to pick up the pieces.
In a sort of ironic twist, it's our efforts, our sweat and tears, if you will that enabled us to accomplish what we have, and it's precisely these efforts that have earned us the chance to continue the relationship with the customer. Sadly, the reward is a pink slip.
Where does that leave me? Well, like I said, I'm going to have to transfer my knowledge, and, since it took me three years to learn what I have (particularly in relation to the customer), I find it difficult to believe that I can pass this info along in 2-3 weeks, especially to someone who doesn't really know what they're getting in to.
But hey ho, we'll see how it goes.
At any rate, after a bit of a conversation with my English colleague on Wednesday, I got my work out done, cleaned up, and was about to exit the building when I realized I was about to walk into a fistfight that was just beginning right outside the fitness studio. I wisely elected to stay quietly in the confines of the building, thinking the fight would end almost immediately.
I was wrong.
Fighter number one apparently knew what he was doing, because after a little paddling from the second guy, he proceeded to throw about three punches and completely level guy number two, who was suddenly on the ground directly in front of the door. As if this weren't enough, fighter number one proceed to give about 10 good kicks to the unfortunate number two's head, and about this time I realized that I was on the front row of a celebrity beat all fuck out of someone death match.
Eventually, he grew tired of kicking, so he gave one last stamp, then took off, leaving a bloody mess on the ground.
The girl who had come downstairs from the gym with me started scrambling for her handy so she could call an ambulance, as neither one of us believed the guy could get up. However, two minutes later, two people came along, helped the beaten guy up and took off as quickly as possible, leaving a pretty remarkable trail of blood behind.
I elected to head for the u-bahn quickest way possible and get myself home to a place perhaps a bit more safe.
The events happened very quickly, and while I sort of wished I'd done something to prevent the guy getting his head kicked in, I must say I wasn't in the best part of town. My gym is right off a main market platz, and is widely known as the place to get your drugs. There are always guys standing about looking for a deal (or looking to deal), and it's usually best to minimize the contact. Sure, I get hit up for ciggy every so often, but mostly I keep my head down and avoid eye contact.
So, that certainly prepared me for an fun filled day on Thursday, where we suddenly had to jump into presentation mode with the customer. We spent a good 9 hours sitting in the conference room, covering all of our topics, and I must say the meeting was quite productive.
On a positive note, I personally showed well, and that was a good feeling. Previously, I've had initimidation issues with one of the guys who always comes to visit. He's really an ok guy, but because of the challenges we've gone through in the past, he's not always been a particular fan.
That said, we all ate together in an Italian restaurant later that night, and laughed and joked as if we were all buddies. I'm still a key person in the relationship with the customer, so that will mean that it will be a while before I'm out of the picture, even when Weiterstadt operations are no longer.
I got home around midnight Thursday night, and stopped off for a quick drink in the pub. I was a bit too tired, but sometimes you just have to do it anyway. Fortunately, a few friendly faces were about; I was able to relay the events of the past couple of days (surprise customer visits, fighting in the konsti) to people I knew. Alas, I did overstay my welcome, and Friday was coming all to quickly.
However, after a spirited morning with the customer, during which we negotiated our pricing, things quieted down considerably during the afternoon. Of course, it helped that the customers drove back to Brussels. I did a bit of tidy up, had a quick conference call with the call center, then called it an early day, also.
I decided to keep a low profile Friday night. The week's events took a lot out of me, and I was glad to be in bed at a very early hour. I felt very well rested while I was at the gym today, and all in all, it's been a rather pleasant day. Had the Arsenal won their match this afternoon, I'd be feeling pretty zippy. Instead, though, I'm simply OK.
The music I listened to during the course of the week was in line with the type of week I just described. More than once, I found myself listening to a band called Alesana. Alesana can be very irritating because the lead singer has a bit of a whiny voice. Though his voice, as well as the music is very melodic, there's the screaming element that starts to annoy very quickly. That said, I still sort of like to listen to them sometimes.
However, it somehow was fitting that I had a few glasses of wine with them playing in the background, on a rather impressive volume level. Hey ho, none of the neighbors complained.
And, the overall theme of the week was abrubt endings to things: conversations, sms's, topics during our business meetings, etc. Hence, the title of the post.
keep the faith
bryan
I was in the pub last Saturday (right after writing last week's bit) and found myself overwhelmed by Irish football fans watching the first leg of Ireland - France. I was actually destined for a birthday party, but found myself throwing back pints back at a rather decent clip (as I was to find out later), actually enjoying myself and the folks I was chatting with.
No need to relay the banter...but I did find myself enjoying the atmosphere, but around 2am realized it was best time to go home. Unfortunately, I elected to skip the birthday party, which would have been an ok idea, except the party was in my apartment building. Thus, the boyfriend of the birthday girl came downstairs to get me as I was trying to open my door at 5 minutes past 2. I couldn't just say that I was unable to attend the party, so I trooped upstairs for a little heavy metal and a couple more beers. Ouch. 5 am finally arrived and I begged off for a bit of sleep.
Sunday was a bit foggy, as you can imagine, but I found myself in the gym having a relatively decent workout, though clouded with some interesting thoughts about a variety of things. Normally I'm a bit reflective in the gym (which makes for some interesting facial expressions in the mirror), but this particular day kind of got to me. As a result, the rest of the days planned activities sort of fell by the wayside, and after the gym trip, I spent the rest of the day lost in thought.
I did have the good sense to go to bed early, and awoke Monday with a clearer head, but then ran into a friend of mine on the U-Bahn on the morning commute. She relayed the sad news that some woman around 68 years old had accidentally strangled herself early Sunday morning after having inadvertently gotten her scarf stuck in the escalator in the main train station.
What an unfortunate way to go.
This was a bit higher on the news line, followed closely by the follow up reports on the funeral on one of the German national soccer team goalkeepers, who had elected to end his life the previous week by throwing himself under a train in the north of Germany.
Unbelievable.
At any rate, my mind was pretty full of dark thoughts during the first part of the week, but I found an hour or so to jot down some personal thoughts Tuesday evening, which made me feel quite a bit better. At the very least I was able to sort out some of my own issues.
The same evening I managed to bang out some stuff on the piano for about an hour, so I was acutally in pretty good spirits on Wednesday when I got to work. I spent a bit of time preparing a presentation for a business review scheduled for Friday, and then suddenly one of my customers called and asked if I could arrange to get an extra AC adapter over to the hotel later that day, so it could be picked up when the customers arrived in town.
"Sure," I said, "but don't you mean on Thursday evening?"
"Nope, we're on our way to Weiterstadt, now," replied the guy.
"Um, aren't we scheduled for the business review to take place on Friday?" I asked, realizing that I already knew the answer.
"Let me pass you over," said my customer as he passed the phone to his colleague.
"Uh, let me get this straight. You're planning to meet with us on Thursday in Weiterstadt," I asked, starting to laugh. "Your email asked us to reserve hotels for other dates, and furthermore, some of our guys won't be arriving in Weiterstadt until Thursday afternoon, as we thought you had planned for a Friday meeting!"
My boss had just arrived to work about this time, so I relayed the information to him, saw the look on his face, and immediately switched the mobile over to speakerphone so he could hear for himself.
"No problem," my boss laughed. "Can you please come in around noon, though? We need a bit of time to sort of set up."
He went on to organize a dinner gathering for later that evening. I excused myself, as I'm not always a fan of the customer socializing. Besides, we'd be having dinner again on Thursday. One time would be enough for me.
So, I headed to the city, intent on getting the gym for a midweek workout. My IT colleague phoned me right as I was getting off the metro, and we talked for a half hour about our concerns on the upcoming project where we move the German operations into our Prague facility. There's a transition plan of sorts, that no one (particularly the two of us) has complete confidence in. Never mind the fact that this was precisely the reason we were meeting with the customer the following day, we were concerned because 3 years ago, the two of us set up the German operations.
As most of you know (since any post written between December 2006 and present have tended to refer to the catastrophe of my work as a somewhat difficult experience), the repair logistics industry is a constant roller coaster. I'm still coming to terms with the fact that everything I've built in the past three years is about to be uprooted and simply "switched" to a new facility.
This transition will be rocky at best, and I'm getting the feeling that I'll end up having to go over and do the same things all over again. The new facility doesn't have a track record of laptop repair, which kind of means that they stand to make the same mistakes as we did, even though we "knew" what we were doing.
It's a bit heartbreaking, since the team I built will be disbanded, and more than a few people will lose their jobs in the coming months. However, this hasn't actually been announced yet, and I'd be the first to say the timing is bollocks. ("Hi, due to the fact that we can operate more cheaply in the Czech Republic, we're going to give up your jobs and give them to someone else! Have a nice day!")
Thank goodness I'm not the one who has to give that speech. I'll just have to pick up the pieces.
In a sort of ironic twist, it's our efforts, our sweat and tears, if you will that enabled us to accomplish what we have, and it's precisely these efforts that have earned us the chance to continue the relationship with the customer. Sadly, the reward is a pink slip.
Where does that leave me? Well, like I said, I'm going to have to transfer my knowledge, and, since it took me three years to learn what I have (particularly in relation to the customer), I find it difficult to believe that I can pass this info along in 2-3 weeks, especially to someone who doesn't really know what they're getting in to.
But hey ho, we'll see how it goes.
At any rate, after a bit of a conversation with my English colleague on Wednesday, I got my work out done, cleaned up, and was about to exit the building when I realized I was about to walk into a fistfight that was just beginning right outside the fitness studio. I wisely elected to stay quietly in the confines of the building, thinking the fight would end almost immediately.
I was wrong.
Fighter number one apparently knew what he was doing, because after a little paddling from the second guy, he proceeded to throw about three punches and completely level guy number two, who was suddenly on the ground directly in front of the door. As if this weren't enough, fighter number one proceed to give about 10 good kicks to the unfortunate number two's head, and about this time I realized that I was on the front row of a celebrity beat all fuck out of someone death match.
Eventually, he grew tired of kicking, so he gave one last stamp, then took off, leaving a bloody mess on the ground.
The girl who had come downstairs from the gym with me started scrambling for her handy so she could call an ambulance, as neither one of us believed the guy could get up. However, two minutes later, two people came along, helped the beaten guy up and took off as quickly as possible, leaving a pretty remarkable trail of blood behind.
I elected to head for the u-bahn quickest way possible and get myself home to a place perhaps a bit more safe.
The events happened very quickly, and while I sort of wished I'd done something to prevent the guy getting his head kicked in, I must say I wasn't in the best part of town. My gym is right off a main market platz, and is widely known as the place to get your drugs. There are always guys standing about looking for a deal (or looking to deal), and it's usually best to minimize the contact. Sure, I get hit up for ciggy every so often, but mostly I keep my head down and avoid eye contact.
So, that certainly prepared me for an fun filled day on Thursday, where we suddenly had to jump into presentation mode with the customer. We spent a good 9 hours sitting in the conference room, covering all of our topics, and I must say the meeting was quite productive.
On a positive note, I personally showed well, and that was a good feeling. Previously, I've had initimidation issues with one of the guys who always comes to visit. He's really an ok guy, but because of the challenges we've gone through in the past, he's not always been a particular fan.
That said, we all ate together in an Italian restaurant later that night, and laughed and joked as if we were all buddies. I'm still a key person in the relationship with the customer, so that will mean that it will be a while before I'm out of the picture, even when Weiterstadt operations are no longer.
I got home around midnight Thursday night, and stopped off for a quick drink in the pub. I was a bit too tired, but sometimes you just have to do it anyway. Fortunately, a few friendly faces were about; I was able to relay the events of the past couple of days (surprise customer visits, fighting in the konsti) to people I knew. Alas, I did overstay my welcome, and Friday was coming all to quickly.
However, after a spirited morning with the customer, during which we negotiated our pricing, things quieted down considerably during the afternoon. Of course, it helped that the customers drove back to Brussels. I did a bit of tidy up, had a quick conference call with the call center, then called it an early day, also.
I decided to keep a low profile Friday night. The week's events took a lot out of me, and I was glad to be in bed at a very early hour. I felt very well rested while I was at the gym today, and all in all, it's been a rather pleasant day. Had the Arsenal won their match this afternoon, I'd be feeling pretty zippy. Instead, though, I'm simply OK.
The music I listened to during the course of the week was in line with the type of week I just described. More than once, I found myself listening to a band called Alesana. Alesana can be very irritating because the lead singer has a bit of a whiny voice. Though his voice, as well as the music is very melodic, there's the screaming element that starts to annoy very quickly. That said, I still sort of like to listen to them sometimes.
However, it somehow was fitting that I had a few glasses of wine with them playing in the background, on a rather impressive volume level. Hey ho, none of the neighbors complained.
And, the overall theme of the week was abrubt endings to things: conversations, sms's, topics during our business meetings, etc. Hence, the title of the post.
keep the faith
bryan
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Born to Run...Around in Circles
Ah, Saturday night, 8pm. Nope, I'm not at the pub. Instead, I'm slamming espressos and listening to Bruce. Yes, the very same Bruce that happens to be a fan of the Gaslight Anthem.
What brought this sudden change from the melodies of Thought Riot, the Exploited, and the Unseen that I've been listening to lately? I dunno. I was at the store buying a few things to get me through til early next week, including yet another flavor of fabric softener (Geez, as if I need 4 different scents at home to put in the wash...oh well, you never know what you feel like), when Born to Run came up on the ipod randomly. Suddenly, the long line at the check out stand didn't seem so lengthy; the heavy crate of water I lugged home didn't weigh nearly as much after all.
OK, so it's not quite the same as instantly increasing your auto's speed, but I certainly got a bit psyched up, and it couldn't have come at a better time. Today's action packed adventure included a quick coffee with a crying kid at the market, a trip to the gym, a little skype action with Lynne, and the tedious (but quick) task of mopping my floors.
After a littel reading (Stephen King - It) and a brief nap late in the afternoon, I did jump into gear, mainly because I'd decided that I could not allow another day to pass without dumping the umpteen empty wine bottles (er, in fairness, they've accumulated since Lynne's visit at the end of summer) in the glass recycle container outside the front door of my flat. You're not allowed to throw the bottles out past 7pm (otherwise others might be disturbed) and never on Sunday.
I got the bottles out at 6.59, then made the trip to Rewe to the rockin' sounds of Jersey; hence the sudden motivation to jot down a few thoughts.
It's obviously been a while since I've posted anything, but that's not to say I haven't been writing. However, those pieces remain quietly in a notebook; written during quiet reflective moments and not suitable for public reading (except for one drunk guy who came up to me the other sunday and attempted to decipher my handwriting).
At any rate, life seems to be rather up in the air for a lot of people right now, least of all me. I sort of like the uncertainty of it all, though it's easy to let yourself panic if you think too much about it. Thank goodness I don't think about it much. I'm more or less ready for anything, though I suspect the coming events to be pretty extreme, particularly on the job front. But hey ho...
It is a bit comical, though. I've noticed several people giving me second glances during the morning commute over the past few weeks. I think it's because the look on my face in the early morning (besides simply frightening) is one of total confusion. Sometimes it's simply a blank stare, other times it's more pensive, and frequently I look like I'm totally about to burst into tears.
However, more often than not, I'm really just trying to remember if I turned off the coffee machine before I left the house. (Twice in the past month I did forget, which was most irritating)
The look on my face during the evening commute home is arguably more tired, which again, doesn't necessarily bode well for someone my age. However, just after a rather interesting U-Bahn ride home one evening during which several of us watched a rather confused man have an energetic conversation with his armpit, I arrived to the pub and ran into a neighbor of mine. He ended up saying that he thought I was much younger than my age, and I was just about to feel rather touched, when he went on to say that I reminded him of the cast of Grease, as I regularly am seen in motorcycle jacket, blue jeans, and heavy boots.
I didn't slap him; he's about 15 years younger than me, and looks about 11 years old. And, he loaned me the Stephen King books, though he knows most of the early works only through film. ("Man, Bryan, I couldn't possibly read The Stand...it's WAY too long. But the miniseries was AWESOME" Er, yeah, sure.)
The whole age and fashion thing is a topic I'll touch on another time. I'm still plowing through life dressing like I'm mid 20s, which has created interesting moments when I have to explain that indeed, the clothes I'm wearing are the same clothes I was wearing then, also. However, I've one particular jacket that I can't bear to part with, even as it's lining is shredding away to nothing. Come to think of it, my moto jacket is looking a bit worn out, too, but, as I said, that's a story for another day.
Right now, I've got to find a newer looking shirt before I head off to a party.
see you out there.
bryan
soundtrack -
Bruce - Born to Run
Thrice - Of Dust and Nations
Alkaline Trio - Don't Say You Won't
What brought this sudden change from the melodies of Thought Riot, the Exploited, and the Unseen that I've been listening to lately? I dunno. I was at the store buying a few things to get me through til early next week, including yet another flavor of fabric softener (Geez, as if I need 4 different scents at home to put in the wash...oh well, you never know what you feel like), when Born to Run came up on the ipod randomly. Suddenly, the long line at the check out stand didn't seem so lengthy; the heavy crate of water I lugged home didn't weigh nearly as much after all.
OK, so it's not quite the same as instantly increasing your auto's speed, but I certainly got a bit psyched up, and it couldn't have come at a better time. Today's action packed adventure included a quick coffee with a crying kid at the market, a trip to the gym, a little skype action with Lynne, and the tedious (but quick) task of mopping my floors.
After a littel reading (Stephen King - It) and a brief nap late in the afternoon, I did jump into gear, mainly because I'd decided that I could not allow another day to pass without dumping the umpteen empty wine bottles (er, in fairness, they've accumulated since Lynne's visit at the end of summer) in the glass recycle container outside the front door of my flat. You're not allowed to throw the bottles out past 7pm (otherwise others might be disturbed) and never on Sunday.
I got the bottles out at 6.59, then made the trip to Rewe to the rockin' sounds of Jersey; hence the sudden motivation to jot down a few thoughts.
It's obviously been a while since I've posted anything, but that's not to say I haven't been writing. However, those pieces remain quietly in a notebook; written during quiet reflective moments and not suitable for public reading (except for one drunk guy who came up to me the other sunday and attempted to decipher my handwriting).
At any rate, life seems to be rather up in the air for a lot of people right now, least of all me. I sort of like the uncertainty of it all, though it's easy to let yourself panic if you think too much about it. Thank goodness I don't think about it much. I'm more or less ready for anything, though I suspect the coming events to be pretty extreme, particularly on the job front. But hey ho...
It is a bit comical, though. I've noticed several people giving me second glances during the morning commute over the past few weeks. I think it's because the look on my face in the early morning (besides simply frightening) is one of total confusion. Sometimes it's simply a blank stare, other times it's more pensive, and frequently I look like I'm totally about to burst into tears.
However, more often than not, I'm really just trying to remember if I turned off the coffee machine before I left the house. (Twice in the past month I did forget, which was most irritating)
The look on my face during the evening commute home is arguably more tired, which again, doesn't necessarily bode well for someone my age. However, just after a rather interesting U-Bahn ride home one evening during which several of us watched a rather confused man have an energetic conversation with his armpit, I arrived to the pub and ran into a neighbor of mine. He ended up saying that he thought I was much younger than my age, and I was just about to feel rather touched, when he went on to say that I reminded him of the cast of Grease, as I regularly am seen in motorcycle jacket, blue jeans, and heavy boots.
I didn't slap him; he's about 15 years younger than me, and looks about 11 years old. And, he loaned me the Stephen King books, though he knows most of the early works only through film. ("Man, Bryan, I couldn't possibly read The Stand...it's WAY too long. But the miniseries was AWESOME" Er, yeah, sure.)
The whole age and fashion thing is a topic I'll touch on another time. I'm still plowing through life dressing like I'm mid 20s, which has created interesting moments when I have to explain that indeed, the clothes I'm wearing are the same clothes I was wearing then, also. However, I've one particular jacket that I can't bear to part with, even as it's lining is shredding away to nothing. Come to think of it, my moto jacket is looking a bit worn out, too, but, as I said, that's a story for another day.
Right now, I've got to find a newer looking shirt before I head off to a party.
see you out there.
bryan
soundtrack -
Bruce - Born to Run
Thrice - Of Dust and Nations
Alkaline Trio - Don't Say You Won't
Friday, October 09, 2009
Falling on a Bruise
I Just had a chat with a friend who took advantage of something I said to zing me pretty good, enough to make me laugh out loud. It's not important what she said, nor was I really that surprised...just surprised to hear her statement out loud.
It got me to thinking. Here in Germany, I'm a little bit less of an enigma than I was in the states, though it's not as if I've become more open in the past years. I'm not sure what drives that. It's possible that some of the people that I know here are simply more perceptive, simply because there are more opportunities to interact. Here, you're likely going to see about 50 people you know just walking to the metro stop, whereas in the states you can sort of distance yourself from people, at least that's how I see it.
It's considered rude to walk by someone (that you know) without greeting them, and while that certainly exists in all societies, I've noticed it more here, particulary on those days when I'm not interested in seeing anyone (which is a lot). You simply have to smile and say hello, which I think is a really nice thing, even though sometimes I would prefer to be a bit more grouchy. Of course, it's not as if I'm wanting to be unfriendly, it's more with being simply caught up in my own thoughts, etc.
This week has been a bit interesting in this regard, interacting socially, I mean. Monday evening, I landed in Barcelona, and enjoyed a late night dinner of tapas across the street from Nou Camp. The staff at the restaurant appreciated (and noticed) my enthusiasm for being back in Spain, even in my Spanish wasn't perfect.
The next day, I met with a Spanish company about some business opportunities, and it was a really stressful, rewarding day. The people we met weren't very comfortable in English, and I was struggling in Spanish, but I think we all noticed that we all had the same desire to make it work, so we battled on and the communication sorted itself out. Funny, I got a more accepting feeling in Barcelona on a one day business trip than I did while living in Valencia. Before someone tries to make the argument that perhaps it was the fact that said company was trying to get some business from us (hence the delightful 8 course meal (complete with umpteen glassed of wine) we ate overlooking the water), I will comment that I believe they simply responded to the fact that I was trying to be real with them. Sure, I hiccupped a lot in Spanish, just as they did in English (which was a huge deal, cos' my German boss was there, calling the shots), but we found respect for one another; it was a really cool deal.
I dunno, maybe it's a sign that it's simply time to move on.
I've always liked being an enigma, and finding a way to stay somewhat distant from people. However, for some reason, in Germany (and perhaps it's simply the people that I've gotten to know), I know more people that have gotten a little close. I stop short of saying too close, but they've certainly found a way through the normal barriers that I've always used (with relatively decent success).
Kind of cool, and kind of scary, in a way. It's nice to know people, and it's nice to be known, and recognized. I'll never be famous, though I'll forever be recognizable, if that makes sense. Fuck it.
At any rate, this recent experience in Spain was really motivating, so it was a tough fall to take upon my return to Germany. Back in the office to get slammed, bopped around, and possibly written out of the the budget for 2010. It sucks when the week starts out great, then goes down hill in a flash.
However, I find myself compelled to jot down a few thoughts on a Friday night before I head off to the pub. Because my washing machine is dead, I spent a couple of hours at a laundromat in the neighborhood. Fluff and fold, baby, fluff and fold. It's been years since I've done that, and I'm hoping like hell it's a one time event, as I'm off to Saturn in the morning to pick out a new washing machine (am I even old enough to know how to buy a washing machine?) to get my domestic life on track, so at the very least I'll be a very enigmatic ("though the Germans read you like a book") punk with clean clothes.
So, I'm currently finding my place, again. Whether I'll be in Spain, or Prague, or still in Frankfurt in 6 months time is anyone's guess, but I'm simply going to flop about and take it all in stride. It beats watching the shit on TV, eh?
That's the scoop for this week. See you out there.
bryan
soundtrack
The Who - Quadrophenia (entire album). Doctor Jimmy. nuff said. even though i don't like gin.
Thrice - Vheissu (entire album) particularly Image of the Invisible
Carter USM - Falling on a Bruise (just the track)
(note - this is yet another disjointed post brought to you in part by the lovely bodega of Rioja)
It got me to thinking. Here in Germany, I'm a little bit less of an enigma than I was in the states, though it's not as if I've become more open in the past years. I'm not sure what drives that. It's possible that some of the people that I know here are simply more perceptive, simply because there are more opportunities to interact. Here, you're likely going to see about 50 people you know just walking to the metro stop, whereas in the states you can sort of distance yourself from people, at least that's how I see it.
It's considered rude to walk by someone (that you know) without greeting them, and while that certainly exists in all societies, I've noticed it more here, particulary on those days when I'm not interested in seeing anyone (which is a lot). You simply have to smile and say hello, which I think is a really nice thing, even though sometimes I would prefer to be a bit more grouchy. Of course, it's not as if I'm wanting to be unfriendly, it's more with being simply caught up in my own thoughts, etc.
This week has been a bit interesting in this regard, interacting socially, I mean. Monday evening, I landed in Barcelona, and enjoyed a late night dinner of tapas across the street from Nou Camp. The staff at the restaurant appreciated (and noticed) my enthusiasm for being back in Spain, even in my Spanish wasn't perfect.
The next day, I met with a Spanish company about some business opportunities, and it was a really stressful, rewarding day. The people we met weren't very comfortable in English, and I was struggling in Spanish, but I think we all noticed that we all had the same desire to make it work, so we battled on and the communication sorted itself out. Funny, I got a more accepting feeling in Barcelona on a one day business trip than I did while living in Valencia. Before someone tries to make the argument that perhaps it was the fact that said company was trying to get some business from us (hence the delightful 8 course meal (complete with umpteen glassed of wine) we ate overlooking the water), I will comment that I believe they simply responded to the fact that I was trying to be real with them. Sure, I hiccupped a lot in Spanish, just as they did in English (which was a huge deal, cos' my German boss was there, calling the shots), but we found respect for one another; it was a really cool deal.
I dunno, maybe it's a sign that it's simply time to move on.
I've always liked being an enigma, and finding a way to stay somewhat distant from people. However, for some reason, in Germany (and perhaps it's simply the people that I've gotten to know), I know more people that have gotten a little close. I stop short of saying too close, but they've certainly found a way through the normal barriers that I've always used (with relatively decent success).
Kind of cool, and kind of scary, in a way. It's nice to know people, and it's nice to be known, and recognized. I'll never be famous, though I'll forever be recognizable, if that makes sense. Fuck it.
At any rate, this recent experience in Spain was really motivating, so it was a tough fall to take upon my return to Germany. Back in the office to get slammed, bopped around, and possibly written out of the the budget for 2010. It sucks when the week starts out great, then goes down hill in a flash.
However, I find myself compelled to jot down a few thoughts on a Friday night before I head off to the pub. Because my washing machine is dead, I spent a couple of hours at a laundromat in the neighborhood. Fluff and fold, baby, fluff and fold. It's been years since I've done that, and I'm hoping like hell it's a one time event, as I'm off to Saturn in the morning to pick out a new washing machine (am I even old enough to know how to buy a washing machine?) to get my domestic life on track, so at the very least I'll be a very enigmatic ("though the Germans read you like a book") punk with clean clothes.
So, I'm currently finding my place, again. Whether I'll be in Spain, or Prague, or still in Frankfurt in 6 months time is anyone's guess, but I'm simply going to flop about and take it all in stride. It beats watching the shit on TV, eh?
That's the scoop for this week. See you out there.
bryan
soundtrack
The Who - Quadrophenia (entire album). Doctor Jimmy. nuff said. even though i don't like gin.
Thrice - Vheissu (entire album) particularly Image of the Invisible
Carter USM - Falling on a Bruise (just the track)
(note - this is yet another disjointed post brought to you in part by the lovely bodega of Rioja)
Saturday, October 03, 2009
Tengo ganas de gritar
Here it is, the first Saturday in October. I love this month, not just because it's Pablo's birthday in a couple of weeks, not because of the U2 song, though both of those things are worthy of enjoying the month. I simply like the fall season, and it's right about now the temperatures start changing, getting a bit cooler.
A friend sent me an sms earlier this week saying it smelled like fall outside. I actually went outside and sniffed. She was totally right. I hadn't really realized the sensation before; I normally like it when it smells like rain, regardless of the season. The smelling bit was a bit humorous, as I had a cold a couple of weeks ago, was totally congested, and was frequently "trying" to sniff again, which she found rather humorous.
Anyway, though it's my favorite season of the year, fall usually brings me a fair amount of stress. Earlier this year, I postponed some vacation plans, as there were a few sticky situations at work which made summer not so convenient to go holidaying. I felt it better to sort of see how things developed. I kind of went too long without taking a few days (I'm not counting the personal days I took to sort out my visa) off, and suddenly find myself frantically needing a week or so to recharge.
Unfortunately, I have waited a bit too long. I was hoping to take a week in October to sort of muck about, but this past Tuesday, during our management meeting, we went through the timeline of Q4 forecast, 2010 budget, some urgent repricing we need to do for my customer (to save the business), and all in all, my October is going to be frighteningly busy.
I was more than hacked off after that meeting, since I've been struggling to get my life sorted out lately, anyway. I realized that time off would really be out of the question; too much that has to get done in the next couple of months involves me. Two months ago I was trying to figure out how I could help support the launch of new operations in Prague, and now, I'm not only still facing this challenge, I may be implementing a small program in Spain, also. This last bit just popped up about a week ago.
Indeed, I fly to Barcelona on Monday to meet with a potential partner, so I'm frantically trying to remember as much Spanish as possible. Should be interesting, to say the least. Thank goodness I still fit in my suits. I hope like hell that the Spanish guys respect that I'm going to be looking a bit SKA like in my steelies, suit, and skinny tie. I would have bought new shoes today (perhaps a bit more appropriate for business), but it's reunification day in Germany; all the shops are closed.
On the job front overall, I have to sort of laugh, cry, and be proud all at the same time. At the expense of my personal life, relationships, and probably my sanity, I have accomplished the international accounts at law concept that Nate and I used to always laugh about years ago. I've implemented a repair program for Europe, been dragged through the mud for 2 1/2 years as I tried like hell to get it working like planned (and to make it profitable), finally earned the respect from management and the customer, and it's still not enough.
The customer needs a better solution, so management is trying to shift as much volume east as possible, to the lower cost countries. On top of that, this little southern Europe thing has popped up; the customer needs an in country solution for Spain.
I'm the guy that knows the most about how it works, and I'm the guy that lived in Spain. So I'm elected to get involved in both of those projects. That actually is a pretty good thing, but a bit scary for me, too. I'm trying to get my mindset in the right frame so I can attack these opportunities with everything I've got. Kind of wish I had taken that week off in September, though...
Earlier in September, a friend talked to me about expectations, and meeting them. I started a piece on the topic, but at this time I'm still reflecting and scribbling my notes. (there are another 45 - 50 posts that are currently incomplete, what's one more?) However, on the expectation front, I can certainly comment that my experience over the past three years has blown my expectations out of the water. It's been brilliant.
That said, the whole vacationesque (invented word) aspect of accomplishing the goal of working in Europe has been tainted by the fact that I still work in a high stress industry that suggests that, so long as I remain in it, will have to accept that it's more off-roading than smooth streets.
Now, before Owen gets excited because yet another bryan story is more negative than positive, I'll throw in the humorous elements that still make this shit enjoyable.
My washing machine died this last week, but not without a fight. I'm not sure if I simply overloaded it, or if it was truly due for a painful death. About a week ago, for three straight days, I ran loads of wash, and each time, the spin cycle sounded remarkably similar to what it must sound during Armegeddon. Holyshit, it was so loud that I almost had to leave the house.
My neighbors must have been furious, especially since I did it three days in a row; each day was a bit worse. Always louder, borderline Stephen King scary (what if the machine came to life and decided to make a break for it?), and had me waiting for a knock on the door from the police. It's verboten in Germany to piss off your neighbors without just cause.
Fortunately, it was only the last load that couldn't complete. The machine simply died. I pulled the soapy clothes from the wash and proceeded to rinse them in the bathtub. The repairman will come sometime this week to take a look, and hopefully will say, "yep, your machine is fucked and you need another one," then promptly run to the appliance store and buy a new one. (My landlord actually asked ME what we ought to do!! I responded that in my opinion, a machine from 1995 probably needed to be put out to pasture)
To sum things up, it's all about letting it all out. Some things you simply can't control. If you need to scream, then do so. Let it out. A friend of mine commented recently that she wasn't very good at this, and that troubled me. I've always lived with angst, and have always used music, writing, and the weight room to sort things. It doesn't escape me that I did not mention, "talk to people about my issues" as one of my methods.
I'm working on this; I've included it in my goals for Q4. That said, it's a bit of a tall order, but a necessary one, as it's not fair to my friends here who aren't always quite sure as to how to deal with an emotionally intense person that's got a lot on his mind right now. Fortunately, you lot get to read up on it and I tick the box for listening to really loud music when I wrote this.
So, I'll finish the glass of wine, and look once more at the little whirlybird leaves that are falling off the tree outside (sorry, I'm not a Dendrologist, so I don't know the name of the tree that makes those little helicopter leaves that are so cool to watch when they fall to the ground).
Thanks, Pablo, for forwarding the pix from the Cotton Bowl match earlier in the week. Nice to see that those outings can still continue from time to time.
keep the faith
bryan
soundtrack:
Apology - Alesana - for a friend of mine in Germany
Revenge - Ministry - still a great track. thanks Kendall
Scream Out - The Unseen - for me
Stare at the Sun - Thrice - also for me
A friend sent me an sms earlier this week saying it smelled like fall outside. I actually went outside and sniffed. She was totally right. I hadn't really realized the sensation before; I normally like it when it smells like rain, regardless of the season. The smelling bit was a bit humorous, as I had a cold a couple of weeks ago, was totally congested, and was frequently "trying" to sniff again, which she found rather humorous.
Anyway, though it's my favorite season of the year, fall usually brings me a fair amount of stress. Earlier this year, I postponed some vacation plans, as there were a few sticky situations at work which made summer not so convenient to go holidaying. I felt it better to sort of see how things developed. I kind of went too long without taking a few days (I'm not counting the personal days I took to sort out my visa) off, and suddenly find myself frantically needing a week or so to recharge.
Unfortunately, I have waited a bit too long. I was hoping to take a week in October to sort of muck about, but this past Tuesday, during our management meeting, we went through the timeline of Q4 forecast, 2010 budget, some urgent repricing we need to do for my customer (to save the business), and all in all, my October is going to be frighteningly busy.
I was more than hacked off after that meeting, since I've been struggling to get my life sorted out lately, anyway. I realized that time off would really be out of the question; too much that has to get done in the next couple of months involves me. Two months ago I was trying to figure out how I could help support the launch of new operations in Prague, and now, I'm not only still facing this challenge, I may be implementing a small program in Spain, also. This last bit just popped up about a week ago.
Indeed, I fly to Barcelona on Monday to meet with a potential partner, so I'm frantically trying to remember as much Spanish as possible. Should be interesting, to say the least. Thank goodness I still fit in my suits. I hope like hell that the Spanish guys respect that I'm going to be looking a bit SKA like in my steelies, suit, and skinny tie. I would have bought new shoes today (perhaps a bit more appropriate for business), but it's reunification day in Germany; all the shops are closed.
On the job front overall, I have to sort of laugh, cry, and be proud all at the same time. At the expense of my personal life, relationships, and probably my sanity, I have accomplished the international accounts at law concept that Nate and I used to always laugh about years ago. I've implemented a repair program for Europe, been dragged through the mud for 2 1/2 years as I tried like hell to get it working like planned (and to make it profitable), finally earned the respect from management and the customer, and it's still not enough.
The customer needs a better solution, so management is trying to shift as much volume east as possible, to the lower cost countries. On top of that, this little southern Europe thing has popped up; the customer needs an in country solution for Spain.
I'm the guy that knows the most about how it works, and I'm the guy that lived in Spain. So I'm elected to get involved in both of those projects. That actually is a pretty good thing, but a bit scary for me, too. I'm trying to get my mindset in the right frame so I can attack these opportunities with everything I've got. Kind of wish I had taken that week off in September, though...
Earlier in September, a friend talked to me about expectations, and meeting them. I started a piece on the topic, but at this time I'm still reflecting and scribbling my notes. (there are another 45 - 50 posts that are currently incomplete, what's one more?) However, on the expectation front, I can certainly comment that my experience over the past three years has blown my expectations out of the water. It's been brilliant.
That said, the whole vacationesque (invented word) aspect of accomplishing the goal of working in Europe has been tainted by the fact that I still work in a high stress industry that suggests that, so long as I remain in it, will have to accept that it's more off-roading than smooth streets.
Now, before Owen gets excited because yet another bryan story is more negative than positive, I'll throw in the humorous elements that still make this shit enjoyable.
My washing machine died this last week, but not without a fight. I'm not sure if I simply overloaded it, or if it was truly due for a painful death. About a week ago, for three straight days, I ran loads of wash, and each time, the spin cycle sounded remarkably similar to what it must sound during Armegeddon. Holyshit, it was so loud that I almost had to leave the house.
My neighbors must have been furious, especially since I did it three days in a row; each day was a bit worse. Always louder, borderline Stephen King scary (what if the machine came to life and decided to make a break for it?), and had me waiting for a knock on the door from the police. It's verboten in Germany to piss off your neighbors without just cause.
Fortunately, it was only the last load that couldn't complete. The machine simply died. I pulled the soapy clothes from the wash and proceeded to rinse them in the bathtub. The repairman will come sometime this week to take a look, and hopefully will say, "yep, your machine is fucked and you need another one," then promptly run to the appliance store and buy a new one. (My landlord actually asked ME what we ought to do!! I responded that in my opinion, a machine from 1995 probably needed to be put out to pasture)
To sum things up, it's all about letting it all out. Some things you simply can't control. If you need to scream, then do so. Let it out. A friend of mine commented recently that she wasn't very good at this, and that troubled me. I've always lived with angst, and have always used music, writing, and the weight room to sort things. It doesn't escape me that I did not mention, "talk to people about my issues" as one of my methods.
I'm working on this; I've included it in my goals for Q4. That said, it's a bit of a tall order, but a necessary one, as it's not fair to my friends here who aren't always quite sure as to how to deal with an emotionally intense person that's got a lot on his mind right now. Fortunately, you lot get to read up on it and I tick the box for listening to really loud music when I wrote this.
So, I'll finish the glass of wine, and look once more at the little whirlybird leaves that are falling off the tree outside (sorry, I'm not a Dendrologist, so I don't know the name of the tree that makes those little helicopter leaves that are so cool to watch when they fall to the ground).
Thanks, Pablo, for forwarding the pix from the Cotton Bowl match earlier in the week. Nice to see that those outings can still continue from time to time.
keep the faith
bryan
soundtrack:
Apology - Alesana - for a friend of mine in Germany
Revenge - Ministry - still a great track. thanks Kendall
Scream Out - The Unseen - for me
Stare at the Sun - Thrice - also for me
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Part of the Kerb
It's not often that I get a chance to walk around the neighborhood during the working day, mainly since I'm always working. True, the vacation days are few and far between, but I did arrange to spend a few days this month out of the office. For those folks taking 2 and 3 week holidays (which is normal here), my two days may seem like diddly squat, but I'll take 'em all the same, and will enjoy them.
Two weeks ago, I had a nice evening hanging out with Brandon and Karla at a cookout in Mannheim. It was super to be able to catch up again after such a long time. As expected, we took advantage of the freeflowing beer, ultimately missed our train back to Frankfurt, and had to spend the night as sort of uninvited, but very much welcomed guests. For personal reasons, it happened to be one of the best weekends I've had in Germany.
In the spirit of keeping that momentum going, I got myself pysched up for August (thus actually planning to take a few days off) by heading off to the Ordnungsamt early in the month to get my residence visa extended. I had been looking forward to this day for quite some time, as the extension means that I will now have more options regarding future employment within Germany, should I need that.
For a bit of moral support (and a ride), I took Ninjaa along with me, which added a certain element of excitement. First, we arrived late to the appointment, which is not well accepted in this country. Second, she offered an explanation as to why we were late, which was primarily because of traffic (and the fact that neither of us had a Tom-Tom). It's neat to hear Germans argue with one another.
At any rate, once we got through to the office where they would update my visa, I proceeded to speak informally, which is also not quite the right thing to go. Fortunately, Ninjaa helped smooth things along, and we ascertained that my visa would be extended until 2012. One must be in the country for five years before a full residence visa (not requiring renewal) will be issued, so long as the individual passes the language proficiency test. When the guy mentioned that, he sort of glanced in my direction, even though he was addressing Ninjaa. He wasn't deliberately slamming my level of German, but he was acknowledging that I am far from fluent.
True, I was a bit nervous during the whole appointment, since, as I've written here before, what if they reach in a drawer and pull out a list of all the times I've not sorted my trash or something? Unfortunately, this had a bit of a negative impact on my ability to speak clearly and consisely. (I said at least two words in Spanish during the conversation...but one of those was mierda, which doesn't really count)
As luck would have it, though, the guy said, "great, we'll just need to stamp this visa into your passport." However, he suddenly leafed through the passport and said, "um, you don't have any more blank pages. i can't do anything until you've got more pages in your passport."
Mierda.
My passport is 5 years old and certainly filled with it's share of stamps. However, I wanted to point out to him that I personally didn't have a problem if he put the visa over the one page where one small stamp was; a memory of one very bored customs agent in the UK earlier this year (who thought he was clever in merely using a new page as opposed to finding a place on one of the other pages that already had stamps).
Alas, I was told that I'd have to get pages added to my passport, then come back to their office to complete the process. We made an appointment for later in August, and then Ninjaa and I headed to the car.
"Why didn't you speak to them using formal Sie," she asked.
"I panicked," I responded, realizing that the answer isn't the type you want to give your language instructor.
Oh well. I'll get another chance in a couple of weeks.
Meanwhile, I checked out the consulate web page to find out just how one gets pages added to their passport. I'm relatively well travelled, but had never known that this was even a possibility. Turns out it's a pretty easy process, and the consulate web page enabled me to establsh an appointment to get this service.
I selected today for my morning appointment, as I'd already planned to have the day free. So, this morning, I woke up, had my coffee, grabbed my mobile and ipod (and my passport and the necessary forms), stuffed them in my backpack, then took the U-Bahn to the stop nearest the government offices. At 8.27am, I realized that I wouldn't be on time to this appointment either, as once again, I wasn't quite sure where the place was.
Within a few minutes, I did find it (gee, the American flag helped) and was preparing to profusely apologize on behalf of the local transport, (as that seemed more a legitimate excuse than me simply saying I screwed around too much at home and left the house late) when the lady brusquely asked me if I was carrying a handy. Of course I am, was my response, to which she replied, "You'll have to discard all mobile phones, mp3 players, and any other electronics devices; they're not allowed on the premesis."
I didn't try to argue with her, nor did I try to point out that the bloody website didn't mention anything about this. My instructions were only to show up at 8.30 with my little appointment card and my passport. I figured it was understood that I'd have a mobile with me, since 98% of the population carries them.
They weren't messing about. I actually had to go home and unload all the gear. I elected to use a taxi, and had a nice chat with a guy about how silly the whole thing was. He waited for me while I went upstairs to drop off my stuff, and I took advantage of the home facilities. We then drove back to the consulate, and, poop time included, the travel cost me 20 Euro. Not too bad.
Handy free, I was able to receive a ticket number, then was allowed to go through the security check, and eventually got to the waiting hall. A man checked my ticket, then sent me upstairs to wait. 15 minutes later, they called my number, I gave them my passport and was told to wait while they put the new sheets in.
I sat for another 25 minutes in peace, and absolutely loved the fact that no one from my office could reach me by telephone.
Eventually, my name was called, I picked up my passport, then took the bus back home. Not a bad little morning, really, even with the double trip.
Still slightly annoyed, I looked through the web site again, and still couldn't find anything mentioning that handys and electronics weren't allowed on site.
Nadja came over a little bit later before we went to the gym, and I showed her the website and said, "see, what the hell is that. they don't say anything about it."
She pointed to a little link which had a picture of a firearm (with a buster), and we then found a document that, indeed, listed all the things that one cannot bring with them to the consulate.
I think I may have actually seen that link a week ago when I made the appointment, but I think I just said, "duh, of course you can't take a gun to the embassy. why would anyone want to do that?" (um, no real need to answer that question...)
The list is rather extensive but a few items surprised me: can't take nunchucks, hairdryers, swords, baby food, and umbrellas inside. Period.
Wow, it's been awhile since I've needed government services, those aren't even remotely items I would think to take with me. Once again, live and learn.
(note - I'll be interested to find out what's going on in Valencia these days at the consulate. Once Lynne and I were there with baby Daniel, and we had with us all of the items listed above excepts for the nunchucks, as we'd recently been shopping. The two women sort of released the door buzzer without checking to see who we were, then proceeded to sell us some handmade jewellry at a little table in the waiting area. Had someone walked in with a large caliber machine gun, I'm quite sure the women would have said, "hey, put that down carefully against the wall and come over and take a look at these bracelets!"
So, after a relaxing afternoon, I'm preparing to launch myself into the last evening of the Bornheim Kerb festival. The party started last Saturday, and ends tomorrow morning. Obviously, the fact that the main area of the party (ie..where the stage is for the live music) is directly across the street from my living room window. The only way to sleep is to jump into the mix (almost said fray, there), drink as much beer as possible, then stagger home sometime around 6am. At least, that's what I did last time.
There's a sort of coolness about having a full scale party in the middle of the work week. The energy levels are high, and people are out in full force. Thursday won't be known as a very productive work day for most of the community, but hey ho, it's an experience you just can't pass up.
Thus, I'm wrapping this up, so I can go be part of the Kerb.
keep the faith
bryan
anti-soundtrack -
no Schlager
no oldies
no John Denver
no goofy folk songs
Two weeks ago, I had a nice evening hanging out with Brandon and Karla at a cookout in Mannheim. It was super to be able to catch up again after such a long time. As expected, we took advantage of the freeflowing beer, ultimately missed our train back to Frankfurt, and had to spend the night as sort of uninvited, but very much welcomed guests. For personal reasons, it happened to be one of the best weekends I've had in Germany.
In the spirit of keeping that momentum going, I got myself pysched up for August (thus actually planning to take a few days off) by heading off to the Ordnungsamt early in the month to get my residence visa extended. I had been looking forward to this day for quite some time, as the extension means that I will now have more options regarding future employment within Germany, should I need that.
For a bit of moral support (and a ride), I took Ninjaa along with me, which added a certain element of excitement. First, we arrived late to the appointment, which is not well accepted in this country. Second, she offered an explanation as to why we were late, which was primarily because of traffic (and the fact that neither of us had a Tom-Tom). It's neat to hear Germans argue with one another.
At any rate, once we got through to the office where they would update my visa, I proceeded to speak informally, which is also not quite the right thing to go. Fortunately, Ninjaa helped smooth things along, and we ascertained that my visa would be extended until 2012. One must be in the country for five years before a full residence visa (not requiring renewal) will be issued, so long as the individual passes the language proficiency test. When the guy mentioned that, he sort of glanced in my direction, even though he was addressing Ninjaa. He wasn't deliberately slamming my level of German, but he was acknowledging that I am far from fluent.
True, I was a bit nervous during the whole appointment, since, as I've written here before, what if they reach in a drawer and pull out a list of all the times I've not sorted my trash or something? Unfortunately, this had a bit of a negative impact on my ability to speak clearly and consisely. (I said at least two words in Spanish during the conversation...but one of those was mierda, which doesn't really count)
As luck would have it, though, the guy said, "great, we'll just need to stamp this visa into your passport." However, he suddenly leafed through the passport and said, "um, you don't have any more blank pages. i can't do anything until you've got more pages in your passport."
Mierda.
My passport is 5 years old and certainly filled with it's share of stamps. However, I wanted to point out to him that I personally didn't have a problem if he put the visa over the one page where one small stamp was; a memory of one very bored customs agent in the UK earlier this year (who thought he was clever in merely using a new page as opposed to finding a place on one of the other pages that already had stamps).
Alas, I was told that I'd have to get pages added to my passport, then come back to their office to complete the process. We made an appointment for later in August, and then Ninjaa and I headed to the car.
"Why didn't you speak to them using formal Sie," she asked.
"I panicked," I responded, realizing that the answer isn't the type you want to give your language instructor.
Oh well. I'll get another chance in a couple of weeks.
Meanwhile, I checked out the consulate web page to find out just how one gets pages added to their passport. I'm relatively well travelled, but had never known that this was even a possibility. Turns out it's a pretty easy process, and the consulate web page enabled me to establsh an appointment to get this service.
I selected today for my morning appointment, as I'd already planned to have the day free. So, this morning, I woke up, had my coffee, grabbed my mobile and ipod (and my passport and the necessary forms), stuffed them in my backpack, then took the U-Bahn to the stop nearest the government offices. At 8.27am, I realized that I wouldn't be on time to this appointment either, as once again, I wasn't quite sure where the place was.
Within a few minutes, I did find it (gee, the American flag helped) and was preparing to profusely apologize on behalf of the local transport, (as that seemed more a legitimate excuse than me simply saying I screwed around too much at home and left the house late) when the lady brusquely asked me if I was carrying a handy. Of course I am, was my response, to which she replied, "You'll have to discard all mobile phones, mp3 players, and any other electronics devices; they're not allowed on the premesis."
I didn't try to argue with her, nor did I try to point out that the bloody website didn't mention anything about this. My instructions were only to show up at 8.30 with my little appointment card and my passport. I figured it was understood that I'd have a mobile with me, since 98% of the population carries them.
They weren't messing about. I actually had to go home and unload all the gear. I elected to use a taxi, and had a nice chat with a guy about how silly the whole thing was. He waited for me while I went upstairs to drop off my stuff, and I took advantage of the home facilities. We then drove back to the consulate, and, poop time included, the travel cost me 20 Euro. Not too bad.
Handy free, I was able to receive a ticket number, then was allowed to go through the security check, and eventually got to the waiting hall. A man checked my ticket, then sent me upstairs to wait. 15 minutes later, they called my number, I gave them my passport and was told to wait while they put the new sheets in.
I sat for another 25 minutes in peace, and absolutely loved the fact that no one from my office could reach me by telephone.
Eventually, my name was called, I picked up my passport, then took the bus back home. Not a bad little morning, really, even with the double trip.
Still slightly annoyed, I looked through the web site again, and still couldn't find anything mentioning that handys and electronics weren't allowed on site.
Nadja came over a little bit later before we went to the gym, and I showed her the website and said, "see, what the hell is that. they don't say anything about it."
She pointed to a little link which had a picture of a firearm (with a buster), and we then found a document that, indeed, listed all the things that one cannot bring with them to the consulate.
I think I may have actually seen that link a week ago when I made the appointment, but I think I just said, "duh, of course you can't take a gun to the embassy. why would anyone want to do that?" (um, no real need to answer that question...)
The list is rather extensive but a few items surprised me: can't take nunchucks, hairdryers, swords, baby food, and umbrellas inside. Period.
Wow, it's been awhile since I've needed government services, those aren't even remotely items I would think to take with me. Once again, live and learn.
(note - I'll be interested to find out what's going on in Valencia these days at the consulate. Once Lynne and I were there with baby Daniel, and we had with us all of the items listed above excepts for the nunchucks, as we'd recently been shopping. The two women sort of released the door buzzer without checking to see who we were, then proceeded to sell us some handmade jewellry at a little table in the waiting area. Had someone walked in with a large caliber machine gun, I'm quite sure the women would have said, "hey, put that down carefully against the wall and come over and take a look at these bracelets!"
So, after a relaxing afternoon, I'm preparing to launch myself into the last evening of the Bornheim Kerb festival. The party started last Saturday, and ends tomorrow morning. Obviously, the fact that the main area of the party (ie..where the stage is for the live music) is directly across the street from my living room window. The only way to sleep is to jump into the mix (almost said fray, there), drink as much beer as possible, then stagger home sometime around 6am. At least, that's what I did last time.
There's a sort of coolness about having a full scale party in the middle of the work week. The energy levels are high, and people are out in full force. Thursday won't be known as a very productive work day for most of the community, but hey ho, it's an experience you just can't pass up.
Thus, I'm wrapping this up, so I can go be part of the Kerb.
keep the faith
bryan
anti-soundtrack -
no Schlager
no oldies
no John Denver
no goofy folk songs
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Staying in the Fray - the '09 Sound
A few weeks back I was at a festival in Wiesbaden, where I was fortunate enough to see a performance by the Gaslight Anthem. As I mentioned in a previous post, we had a met a few youths who were out enjoying the day, and one of them just raved about the band, saying that we absolutely couldn't miss them. He was totally right.
I did share John's view that the sound perhaps wasn't the best quality, which was a little strange as most of the other shows throughout the day had had no particular problems. However, it was only a minor detail; the stage presence of the band, particularly the lead singer, was excellent. Said lead singer just didn't stop smiling. Clearly, all of them were enjoying themselves, and really playing their hearts out. Early on in the set, I knew I was going to be a fan. In fact, despite the sound inadequacies, I was even truly blown away by a handful of songs.
Turns out that these guys come from New Jersey, and the previous week had played Glastonbury, where Bruce Springsteen joined them on stage. This apparently has had significant influence on the bands record sales, which certainly illustrates Bruce's longevity. Funny, I didn't need Bruce's endorsement in order to go buy the album, though in an ironic twist, I may just pick up a little more Springsteen; he seems to hang out with an OK crowd.
True, I'm not a tremendous fan of the Boss, though I certainly respect his contributions to the world. He actually played in Frankfurt the night before the punk show, and during the Gaslight Anthem set, I did reflect that, had I had to make a choice between Bruce's show the previous night or the show I was at, I had made the right decision, for me anyway.
I will stop short of going absolutely nutty about this relatively new band. Their show was great, and I've been listening to them a lot on the ipod lately. I made a comment to a guy last week that I thought of them as a bit of a mix between Joe Strummer and Bruce, and I do have the feeling that they'll be around for the coming years.
However, what had the greatest impact on me was simply seeing a group of guys thoroughly enjoying themselves as they played their set. I found this significant as only three hours before, I'd just seen the Bouncing Souls play their hearts out, too.
So, for the past few weeks, I've been thinking about this from a slightly different perspective. Though the day of the festival was the 4th of July, none of the American acts made much mention of it. One singer, when prompted by some of the fans, kind of said, "hey, we're all from the same planet, right? We're all human."
I was glad he stated things that way. It's possible that he was merely recognizing where he was at that moment, central Europe is not necessarily where you want to stand up and go "whoop whoop," proudly proclaiming your pride, especially if you come from another part of the world.
However, I believe he, like most of the other acts that day, demonstrated their pride simply in the way they played their sets. While I recognize that a performer is "on stage," I like to think that some of those individuals tend to be very genuine off stage, too.
In my own little, way, I'm trying to do the same thing in my own life. (yep, even years after adolescence, music still has the biggest influence on me.)
The longer that I live away from my home country, the more sense of pride I seem to get. It comes from meeting new people, and learning about their own backgrounds, and sharing things about my own background.
Whether it be in the workplace, or in social settings, or in personal relationships, it's all about the same. True, I tend to be consistently wacky in all three of elements, but at least it's real, and most people tend to recognize that. Yeah, they may find it amusing, aggravating, and even annoying, but I suspect that they also sense that it is refreshing, thoughtful, confusing, and, perhaps best of all, simply OK.
Is it so important that I decide what I should do about my love life? Is there an explanation as to why I always tend to wear sunglasses indoors and out, yet open up to people as soon as the glasses come off? Can one really explain why I'm still a two pack a day smoker, yet strive to get to the gym 4-5 times a week? Is it so necessary to hide my emotions, my stress, my frustrations from my colleagues at work, even though we know that the fate of the site will be decided in a few weeks time? And why, why on earth do I seem to consume espresso in the exact same quantities as a 48 ounce cup of coffee from 7-11 (circa 1992)?
I'll save the answers to those questions for another day. Right now, I'm going to enjoy my day off, walk around in the sunshine, and maybe even do a little work on my German grammar; it's the one thing on my list of goals for the month of July that has not progressed as far as I wanted.
Here's to keeping things complicated in the summer of '09. Good thing the music sounds great.
Keep the faith
bryan
soundtrack
1) You've Made Us Conscious - The Audtion
2) Electricity - NoFX
3) One Small Day - Ultravox
4) In Your Hands - Thrice
5) A Forest - The Cure
6) Afraid - Yellowcard
7) The Brightest Bulb Has Burned Out - Less Than Jake
8) Rain in the Summertime - The Alarm
9) Memory - Sugarcult
10) Destination Ursa Major - Superdrag
11) Between the End and Where We Lie - Thrice
12) About You - The Jesus and Mary Chain
13) The '59 Sound - The Gaslight Anthem
I did share John's view that the sound perhaps wasn't the best quality, which was a little strange as most of the other shows throughout the day had had no particular problems. However, it was only a minor detail; the stage presence of the band, particularly the lead singer, was excellent. Said lead singer just didn't stop smiling. Clearly, all of them were enjoying themselves, and really playing their hearts out. Early on in the set, I knew I was going to be a fan. In fact, despite the sound inadequacies, I was even truly blown away by a handful of songs.
Turns out that these guys come from New Jersey, and the previous week had played Glastonbury, where Bruce Springsteen joined them on stage. This apparently has had significant influence on the bands record sales, which certainly illustrates Bruce's longevity. Funny, I didn't need Bruce's endorsement in order to go buy the album, though in an ironic twist, I may just pick up a little more Springsteen; he seems to hang out with an OK crowd.
True, I'm not a tremendous fan of the Boss, though I certainly respect his contributions to the world. He actually played in Frankfurt the night before the punk show, and during the Gaslight Anthem set, I did reflect that, had I had to make a choice between Bruce's show the previous night or the show I was at, I had made the right decision, for me anyway.
I will stop short of going absolutely nutty about this relatively new band. Their show was great, and I've been listening to them a lot on the ipod lately. I made a comment to a guy last week that I thought of them as a bit of a mix between Joe Strummer and Bruce, and I do have the feeling that they'll be around for the coming years.
However, what had the greatest impact on me was simply seeing a group of guys thoroughly enjoying themselves as they played their set. I found this significant as only three hours before, I'd just seen the Bouncing Souls play their hearts out, too.
So, for the past few weeks, I've been thinking about this from a slightly different perspective. Though the day of the festival was the 4th of July, none of the American acts made much mention of it. One singer, when prompted by some of the fans, kind of said, "hey, we're all from the same planet, right? We're all human."
I was glad he stated things that way. It's possible that he was merely recognizing where he was at that moment, central Europe is not necessarily where you want to stand up and go "whoop whoop," proudly proclaiming your pride, especially if you come from another part of the world.
However, I believe he, like most of the other acts that day, demonstrated their pride simply in the way they played their sets. While I recognize that a performer is "on stage," I like to think that some of those individuals tend to be very genuine off stage, too.
In my own little, way, I'm trying to do the same thing in my own life. (yep, even years after adolescence, music still has the biggest influence on me.)
The longer that I live away from my home country, the more sense of pride I seem to get. It comes from meeting new people, and learning about their own backgrounds, and sharing things about my own background.
Whether it be in the workplace, or in social settings, or in personal relationships, it's all about the same. True, I tend to be consistently wacky in all three of elements, but at least it's real, and most people tend to recognize that. Yeah, they may find it amusing, aggravating, and even annoying, but I suspect that they also sense that it is refreshing, thoughtful, confusing, and, perhaps best of all, simply OK.
Is it so important that I decide what I should do about my love life? Is there an explanation as to why I always tend to wear sunglasses indoors and out, yet open up to people as soon as the glasses come off? Can one really explain why I'm still a two pack a day smoker, yet strive to get to the gym 4-5 times a week? Is it so necessary to hide my emotions, my stress, my frustrations from my colleagues at work, even though we know that the fate of the site will be decided in a few weeks time? And why, why on earth do I seem to consume espresso in the exact same quantities as a 48 ounce cup of coffee from 7-11 (circa 1992)?
I'll save the answers to those questions for another day. Right now, I'm going to enjoy my day off, walk around in the sunshine, and maybe even do a little work on my German grammar; it's the one thing on my list of goals for the month of July that has not progressed as far as I wanted.
Here's to keeping things complicated in the summer of '09. Good thing the music sounds great.
Keep the faith
bryan
soundtrack
1) You've Made Us Conscious - The Audtion
2) Electricity - NoFX
3) One Small Day - Ultravox
4) In Your Hands - Thrice
5) A Forest - The Cure
6) Afraid - Yellowcard
7) The Brightest Bulb Has Burned Out - Less Than Jake
8) Rain in the Summertime - The Alarm
9) Memory - Sugarcult
10) Destination Ursa Major - Superdrag
11) Between the End and Where We Lie - Thrice
12) About You - The Jesus and Mary Chain
13) The '59 Sound - The Gaslight Anthem
Friday, July 03, 2009
Wasserschaden, Sonnenschein, and a Couple of Mispelchens
The other week, I missed the 8.06 train to work on account that I was stuck in the coffee line. Normally, the ladies at the Crobag (little coffee bakery in the bahnhof) try to rush me through the nonexistent express lane, but on this particular day, people were a little too pushy.
So, I got my coffee in time to see the train pull away. No problem, the next train would leave 10 minutes later.
After a quick cigarette, I boarded the train, found an empty seat, placed my coffee on the little trashcan on the wall next to me, and settled into a little thinking.
The train pulled away, the ipod was going, and I was looking out the window thinking, "looks like it's going to be an OK day," when suddenly the train jostled, and I suddenly had a full milchkaffee pouring all over my lap; the stable little place that I've been putting my coffee cup for the past two years turns out not be so stable after all.
At first, I believe I was most irritated that I'd lost my coffee, then I realized that my ipod was also in my lap. I rescued it first (thank goodness I use one of those little plastic cover things that protects it from these kinds of accidents), then reviewed the damage on my bluejeans. The front side of my left leg was completely soaked, as was the back side of my lower right leg; the coffee sort of spilled over my lap and down my legs as opposed to right on my crotch.
20 minutes later we pulled into Darmstadt, and I wasn't yet dry. I took a taxi on to the office, then assessed the damage in the employee lavatory. The foamy milk was starting to leave an interesting residue on my jeans, but in the end I said fuck it, and just go on with the work day.
As it turned out, that was the best thing that happened to me that day. Everything else went straight downhill at work, but that's another story.
Over the past couple of months, I've been struggling to move forward from the plateau I found myself on with the German language. Ninjaa got a little irritated that my pronounciation wasn't quite what it should be. As a result, I got to do read aloud some "easy reader" books for her during class. We didn't just stop at the biography of Elvis Presley, we went through Madonna's, too. Highlights of this exercise including learning the German words for, "total fucking wanker," and "atrocious movie actor." I'll let you decide which applies to which.
I push myself on the language front, so am easily frustrated when I suddenly forget the proper verb conjugation or inadvertently use the wrong word completely. Fortunately, I don't worry too much about making errors. People tend to accept and understand that. And I believe that they appreciate it.
I do still become very amazed when I find myself deep in conversation with a colleague or a Kumpel about some topic. Suddenly, I sort of realize that we're speaking only in German, and then I almost have to sit down. Probably the best way to visualize that feeling is remembering what it was like when you were first learning to ride a bicycle without the training wheels. Usually, a parent sort of runs along with you holding on to your bike as you peddle merrily along. A few seconds or minutes later, you glance back to see if your dad is still behind you, only to discover that you've been on your own. More than once that results in an immediate crash, as you are so shocked at what you've just done. This happens to me all the time.
The other week, my boss sort of noticed that I was a bit "down" during a meeting. Upon conclusion of the meeting, I raced downstairs for a cigarette, and was kicking rocks around the courtyard when he came outside and motioned for me to sit with him. We proceeded to have a bit of a spirited conversation, borderline argument, during which the entire conversation (with the exception of the brief blurt, "total fucking shambles") was in German. He certainly got my point, and in the end, I was satisfied with the result of our talk as well as my ability to hold my own in his native language.
My teacher had dinner with my parents and me a couple of Friday evenings ago. It was a bit awkard, as I tend to speak 90% German with her, but we obviously have to speak English with the padres. The topic of language learning came up, and Ninjaa remarked that typically people who have a talent with music tend to go through the language learning process with more success. I pointed out that my own music talents were certainly strong enough to make me a professional program manager, but I understood what she was saying.
The very next day, my parents and I went off to a little town not far from Frankfurt for the weekend. As we checked in to the hotel, my parents did all the talking, in English. The hotel owner spoke carefully, and seemed to be doing ok. As we collected our room keys, I sort of said something in German, to which he laughingly replied, "Geez, you speak German, but you made me go through having to explain all this stuff about the hotel and the town in English?"
"Yeah, but they're paying," I laughed back.
Excluding the job, there have been two challenges I've been working through in the past few weeks. The first came a couple of months back. I was having a shower one morning when I felt a few drops of water on my head. Since I was holding the shower nozzle in my hand with the water running down my leg, I was a bit surprised. "Holy shit," I thought as I noticed a little row of droplets leaking through the ceiling above me. Obviously something wasn't quite right with the apartment above me. Fortunately, their shower seemed to be directly above mine.
I sent a little email over to my landlord, who responded a couple of days later, indicating that he'd notified the hausmeister. Nothing really happened in the next two weeks. A neighbor of mine mentioned one evening that her landlord had contacted her about water damage, so clearly the topic was being discussed, but I was not contacted by anyone wanting to inspect the damage.
This is not really unusual in Germany; frequently things are left unattended until they "really" have to be dealt with. You might think of this along the lines of the "mañana" phenomenon that takes place in Spain. Why take action today when it will still be there for your, er, tomorrow? Note - this is not a complaint about either Spain or Germany. I do this all the time, myself. However, I doubt very seriously if I will ever reach the level of complacency that I've heard about from some European managers who apparently dismiss the unfortunate news that their company offices have burned to the ground on account that they were on holiday. ("Please don't bother me again. I'll return in two weeks time and we'll deal with it then.")
At any rate, after a couple of weeks, I sent another email to my landlord, who once again contacted the hausmeister. I was told to expect a telephone call in the next days from the maintanence man.
I didn't receive any phone calls, and, as the water leak from the shower only ocurred when the tenant above me showered, I didn't really think this was a huge issue. We would eventually get it sorted.
Over time, the damage has certainly grown, but I got busy and sort of forgot about it until about a week and a half ago, when I got a couple more droplets on my head one morning. I sent another email, and got a response that I would need to contact the handyman directly.
I was a little nervous about this, because making telephone calls and arranging appointments is a bit tricky for me. At least twice in the past year, I have gotten the wrong time or date for a haircut, much to my embarrassment. However, I did make the phone call, and the guy said he'd be by to see me the following day at 11am.
This was fine with me, since I had already scheduled the day off. It would be a personal business day for me, as I was really wanting the day off to get a few things sorted out (like overdue taxes, a good workout in the gym, and simply a day out of the office).
During this same water damage saga (which is really more an ongoing exchange of emails than anything else), another little issue popped up. I possess an unbefristet work contract, which basically gives me some comfort regarding employment (so long as the company doesn't run out of business). However, the residence visa is a separate thing, and last June I was able to renew my visa through June 2009.
Ever since the little nightmare a few years back when my firm failed to organize everything properly regarding my papers (which meant I was illegally working and living for a couple of month), I have used a local service to get this done for me. Earlier in the year, I had bumped into the woman who I'd worked with on this matter before, and mentioned that I'd contact her in May to start preparing.
So, in May, I began sending her emails, then text messages, then actual phone calls, all of which went unanswered. I didn't panic, since it's not unusual for someone to go on holiday for 2 or 3 weeks, during which time the person is unavailable. However, by the second week of June, I started to panic as the end of month drew nearer. I took action by speaking with the exectutive assistant in my company, and Claudia jumped into action. She mentioned a week later that the coming Friday, she'd need my passport so she could go off to the government offices to get my visa renewed.
I realized that I already had the day scheduled off, so informed her that I wanted to go with her. We planned to meet early Friday morning and get all the paperwork finalized. I felt comforted by the fact that I'd be in the presence of someone who could understand any of the complex issues in the native language, thus ensuring that we'd get the right result, even if something wasn't completely in order. (note - Bryan has this secret fear that just when things seem to be going along in a super way, something pops up in the form of a catastrophic road block. Example - what if the woman at the registry office refused to grant me a visa extension because I jaywalked across Reinberger Str on the 3rd of April 2009, or because I smoked in a NON-designated smoking area on the train platform, or worse yet, if I hadn't properly sorted my trash and inadvertently put my plastic recyclables in the bin marked for biodegradable waste?)
So, two Fridays ago, I woke up early and went off to get my visa renewed. I was feeling a little hungover, so hoped they wouldn't require new ID photos. We got to the offices, were directed to a new building, then waited for about 20 minutes before seeing the girl who stamps the visa.
The girl typed a few things into the computer, then handed us a little ticket. "Go pay the cashier, then come back to this office and I'll have everything ready."
Claudia and I headed to the cashier in the building next door (why put everything in one building when you can certainly be more ineffecient by using two or three? typical civil service...) and stopped for a cigarette outside on the little walkway between the two buildings.
"Congratulations, Bryan," Claudia told me in German. "I'm really excited for you."
"Me too," I responded, thinking I was renewed for one more year.
"No, you're now going to get an unlimited residence visa in Germany. You've worked and been here long enough to justify an extended visa."
How totally cool is that? Very. I was hoping to get long term papers (at the very least to avoid the hassle of having to go off and stand in boring lines once a year), but was not expecting this. I will wait until all of it is officially stamped in my passport (which takes a couple of months), and then might think about jaywalking or being discourteous with my trash...
I was on a pretty big high when I got home later that morning, and was in good humor when the fix-it man showed up right at 11am. I showed him the damage, and we had a 25 minute conversation about the extent of things. While the damage is not so urgent, it does need to be addressed. I think my bathroom will have to be renovated a little bit, but I wasn't really discouraged. We had the whole conversation in German (and I don't understand much about plumbing in ANY language) and I was ultimately going to be fixed up.
After a busy Friday morning, I was in good spirits. I met a friend for coffee in a little plaza nearby, and enjoyed sitting in the sunshine sipping iced lattes. At one point, I received a phonecall from my insurance company (an equally complicated topic to discuss by telephone in German) and once again, I held my own. I was even able to make a couple of jokes with the service rep, who was really calling to make sure I was satisfied with the service.
I proudly relayed this Ninjaa after the call, and after another coffee, headed off to enjoy the afternoon in the gym.
That evening, I hung out in the biergarten chatting with friends, chugging Radlers (shandy) at a pretty good clip. One of the waitresses suggested we nip next door for a Mispelchen, a little apple brandy that is accompanied with a very small fruit that is part pear, part apple. It's like a really really strong sweet cider, and rather delicious.
My pub doesn't yet serve the mispelchen, but the German Kneipe next door does. Through the course of the evening, I got to know the staff in that bar as well, as we ended up buying a few more rounds.
That, combined with the beers, meant that Saturday morning wasn't the brightest of moments in my life. That said, I recovered enough by evening to spend an hour at a street festival in the neighborhood (street festival = loud music, lots of alcohol, and loads of people) before attending a birthday party of a neighbor. That party extended into early Sunday, which made for a super weekend.
I took that momentum with me into this past week, and was able to push the work related crap and the heat to the side. Instead, I enjoyed a dinner with my parents, who were just back from Spain for the night before travelling off for two more weeks in Belgium and France.
It has been a bit humid here in recent days, making the commute on a sweaty underground and bus a bit less enjoyable. However, the heat and humidity was much more tolerable on Friday, when I took another day off from work, doing almost nothing except for lounging around in various cafes and pubs. I'm not sure what possessed me to have a few frozen margaritas and a huge assortment of fried appetizers in an American sports bar on Bergerstrasse, nor can I explain why I thought it so wise to have half a bottle wine during a sykpe with Moe later that evening, all before heading back to the pub, where I proceeded to stay out way too late.
However, the perfect way to continue that kind of start to a lost weekend is by getting up a little early on Saturday morning to head off to an all day punk festival, which is what I did yesterday. Indeed, I got a much needed opportunity to see the Bouncing Souls again, as well as some lively performances by the Dillinger Escape Plan and the Gaslight Anthem.
Sun, beer, a few bratwursts, a bit more beer (and sun), and lots of sweaty people jumping around to some good music. There are worse ways to spend a Saturday.
Now, if I can talk myself into going to the gym, my weekend will be complete: a lot of debauchery redeemed by a sensible bit of fitness.
keep the faith
bryan
no soundtrack this time round. my ears are still ringing from yesterday.
So, I got my coffee in time to see the train pull away. No problem, the next train would leave 10 minutes later.
After a quick cigarette, I boarded the train, found an empty seat, placed my coffee on the little trashcan on the wall next to me, and settled into a little thinking.
The train pulled away, the ipod was going, and I was looking out the window thinking, "looks like it's going to be an OK day," when suddenly the train jostled, and I suddenly had a full milchkaffee pouring all over my lap; the stable little place that I've been putting my coffee cup for the past two years turns out not be so stable after all.
At first, I believe I was most irritated that I'd lost my coffee, then I realized that my ipod was also in my lap. I rescued it first (thank goodness I use one of those little plastic cover things that protects it from these kinds of accidents), then reviewed the damage on my bluejeans. The front side of my left leg was completely soaked, as was the back side of my lower right leg; the coffee sort of spilled over my lap and down my legs as opposed to right on my crotch.
20 minutes later we pulled into Darmstadt, and I wasn't yet dry. I took a taxi on to the office, then assessed the damage in the employee lavatory. The foamy milk was starting to leave an interesting residue on my jeans, but in the end I said fuck it, and just go on with the work day.
As it turned out, that was the best thing that happened to me that day. Everything else went straight downhill at work, but that's another story.
Over the past couple of months, I've been struggling to move forward from the plateau I found myself on with the German language. Ninjaa got a little irritated that my pronounciation wasn't quite what it should be. As a result, I got to do read aloud some "easy reader" books for her during class. We didn't just stop at the biography of Elvis Presley, we went through Madonna's, too. Highlights of this exercise including learning the German words for, "total fucking wanker," and "atrocious movie actor." I'll let you decide which applies to which.
I push myself on the language front, so am easily frustrated when I suddenly forget the proper verb conjugation or inadvertently use the wrong word completely. Fortunately, I don't worry too much about making errors. People tend to accept and understand that. And I believe that they appreciate it.
I do still become very amazed when I find myself deep in conversation with a colleague or a Kumpel about some topic. Suddenly, I sort of realize that we're speaking only in German, and then I almost have to sit down. Probably the best way to visualize that feeling is remembering what it was like when you were first learning to ride a bicycle without the training wheels. Usually, a parent sort of runs along with you holding on to your bike as you peddle merrily along. A few seconds or minutes later, you glance back to see if your dad is still behind you, only to discover that you've been on your own. More than once that results in an immediate crash, as you are so shocked at what you've just done. This happens to me all the time.
The other week, my boss sort of noticed that I was a bit "down" during a meeting. Upon conclusion of the meeting, I raced downstairs for a cigarette, and was kicking rocks around the courtyard when he came outside and motioned for me to sit with him. We proceeded to have a bit of a spirited conversation, borderline argument, during which the entire conversation (with the exception of the brief blurt, "total fucking shambles") was in German. He certainly got my point, and in the end, I was satisfied with the result of our talk as well as my ability to hold my own in his native language.
My teacher had dinner with my parents and me a couple of Friday evenings ago. It was a bit awkard, as I tend to speak 90% German with her, but we obviously have to speak English with the padres. The topic of language learning came up, and Ninjaa remarked that typically people who have a talent with music tend to go through the language learning process with more success. I pointed out that my own music talents were certainly strong enough to make me a professional program manager, but I understood what she was saying.
The very next day, my parents and I went off to a little town not far from Frankfurt for the weekend. As we checked in to the hotel, my parents did all the talking, in English. The hotel owner spoke carefully, and seemed to be doing ok. As we collected our room keys, I sort of said something in German, to which he laughingly replied, "Geez, you speak German, but you made me go through having to explain all this stuff about the hotel and the town in English?"
"Yeah, but they're paying," I laughed back.
Excluding the job, there have been two challenges I've been working through in the past few weeks. The first came a couple of months back. I was having a shower one morning when I felt a few drops of water on my head. Since I was holding the shower nozzle in my hand with the water running down my leg, I was a bit surprised. "Holy shit," I thought as I noticed a little row of droplets leaking through the ceiling above me. Obviously something wasn't quite right with the apartment above me. Fortunately, their shower seemed to be directly above mine.
I sent a little email over to my landlord, who responded a couple of days later, indicating that he'd notified the hausmeister. Nothing really happened in the next two weeks. A neighbor of mine mentioned one evening that her landlord had contacted her about water damage, so clearly the topic was being discussed, but I was not contacted by anyone wanting to inspect the damage.
This is not really unusual in Germany; frequently things are left unattended until they "really" have to be dealt with. You might think of this along the lines of the "mañana" phenomenon that takes place in Spain. Why take action today when it will still be there for your, er, tomorrow? Note - this is not a complaint about either Spain or Germany. I do this all the time, myself. However, I doubt very seriously if I will ever reach the level of complacency that I've heard about from some European managers who apparently dismiss the unfortunate news that their company offices have burned to the ground on account that they were on holiday. ("Please don't bother me again. I'll return in two weeks time and we'll deal with it then.")
At any rate, after a couple of weeks, I sent another email to my landlord, who once again contacted the hausmeister. I was told to expect a telephone call in the next days from the maintanence man.
I didn't receive any phone calls, and, as the water leak from the shower only ocurred when the tenant above me showered, I didn't really think this was a huge issue. We would eventually get it sorted.
Over time, the damage has certainly grown, but I got busy and sort of forgot about it until about a week and a half ago, when I got a couple more droplets on my head one morning. I sent another email, and got a response that I would need to contact the handyman directly.
I was a little nervous about this, because making telephone calls and arranging appointments is a bit tricky for me. At least twice in the past year, I have gotten the wrong time or date for a haircut, much to my embarrassment. However, I did make the phone call, and the guy said he'd be by to see me the following day at 11am.
This was fine with me, since I had already scheduled the day off. It would be a personal business day for me, as I was really wanting the day off to get a few things sorted out (like overdue taxes, a good workout in the gym, and simply a day out of the office).
During this same water damage saga (which is really more an ongoing exchange of emails than anything else), another little issue popped up. I possess an unbefristet work contract, which basically gives me some comfort regarding employment (so long as the company doesn't run out of business). However, the residence visa is a separate thing, and last June I was able to renew my visa through June 2009.
Ever since the little nightmare a few years back when my firm failed to organize everything properly regarding my papers (which meant I was illegally working and living for a couple of month), I have used a local service to get this done for me. Earlier in the year, I had bumped into the woman who I'd worked with on this matter before, and mentioned that I'd contact her in May to start preparing.
So, in May, I began sending her emails, then text messages, then actual phone calls, all of which went unanswered. I didn't panic, since it's not unusual for someone to go on holiday for 2 or 3 weeks, during which time the person is unavailable. However, by the second week of June, I started to panic as the end of month drew nearer. I took action by speaking with the exectutive assistant in my company, and Claudia jumped into action. She mentioned a week later that the coming Friday, she'd need my passport so she could go off to the government offices to get my visa renewed.
I realized that I already had the day scheduled off, so informed her that I wanted to go with her. We planned to meet early Friday morning and get all the paperwork finalized. I felt comforted by the fact that I'd be in the presence of someone who could understand any of the complex issues in the native language, thus ensuring that we'd get the right result, even if something wasn't completely in order. (note - Bryan has this secret fear that just when things seem to be going along in a super way, something pops up in the form of a catastrophic road block. Example - what if the woman at the registry office refused to grant me a visa extension because I jaywalked across Reinberger Str on the 3rd of April 2009, or because I smoked in a NON-designated smoking area on the train platform, or worse yet, if I hadn't properly sorted my trash and inadvertently put my plastic recyclables in the bin marked for biodegradable waste?)
So, two Fridays ago, I woke up early and went off to get my visa renewed. I was feeling a little hungover, so hoped they wouldn't require new ID photos. We got to the offices, were directed to a new building, then waited for about 20 minutes before seeing the girl who stamps the visa.
The girl typed a few things into the computer, then handed us a little ticket. "Go pay the cashier, then come back to this office and I'll have everything ready."
Claudia and I headed to the cashier in the building next door (why put everything in one building when you can certainly be more ineffecient by using two or three? typical civil service...) and stopped for a cigarette outside on the little walkway between the two buildings.
"Congratulations, Bryan," Claudia told me in German. "I'm really excited for you."
"Me too," I responded, thinking I was renewed for one more year.
"No, you're now going to get an unlimited residence visa in Germany. You've worked and been here long enough to justify an extended visa."
How totally cool is that? Very. I was hoping to get long term papers (at the very least to avoid the hassle of having to go off and stand in boring lines once a year), but was not expecting this. I will wait until all of it is officially stamped in my passport (which takes a couple of months), and then might think about jaywalking or being discourteous with my trash...
I was on a pretty big high when I got home later that morning, and was in good humor when the fix-it man showed up right at 11am. I showed him the damage, and we had a 25 minute conversation about the extent of things. While the damage is not so urgent, it does need to be addressed. I think my bathroom will have to be renovated a little bit, but I wasn't really discouraged. We had the whole conversation in German (and I don't understand much about plumbing in ANY language) and I was ultimately going to be fixed up.
After a busy Friday morning, I was in good spirits. I met a friend for coffee in a little plaza nearby, and enjoyed sitting in the sunshine sipping iced lattes. At one point, I received a phonecall from my insurance company (an equally complicated topic to discuss by telephone in German) and once again, I held my own. I was even able to make a couple of jokes with the service rep, who was really calling to make sure I was satisfied with the service.
I proudly relayed this Ninjaa after the call, and after another coffee, headed off to enjoy the afternoon in the gym.
That evening, I hung out in the biergarten chatting with friends, chugging Radlers (shandy) at a pretty good clip. One of the waitresses suggested we nip next door for a Mispelchen, a little apple brandy that is accompanied with a very small fruit that is part pear, part apple. It's like a really really strong sweet cider, and rather delicious.
My pub doesn't yet serve the mispelchen, but the German Kneipe next door does. Through the course of the evening, I got to know the staff in that bar as well, as we ended up buying a few more rounds.
That, combined with the beers, meant that Saturday morning wasn't the brightest of moments in my life. That said, I recovered enough by evening to spend an hour at a street festival in the neighborhood (street festival = loud music, lots of alcohol, and loads of people) before attending a birthday party of a neighbor. That party extended into early Sunday, which made for a super weekend.
I took that momentum with me into this past week, and was able to push the work related crap and the heat to the side. Instead, I enjoyed a dinner with my parents, who were just back from Spain for the night before travelling off for two more weeks in Belgium and France.
It has been a bit humid here in recent days, making the commute on a sweaty underground and bus a bit less enjoyable. However, the heat and humidity was much more tolerable on Friday, when I took another day off from work, doing almost nothing except for lounging around in various cafes and pubs. I'm not sure what possessed me to have a few frozen margaritas and a huge assortment of fried appetizers in an American sports bar on Bergerstrasse, nor can I explain why I thought it so wise to have half a bottle wine during a sykpe with Moe later that evening, all before heading back to the pub, where I proceeded to stay out way too late.
However, the perfect way to continue that kind of start to a lost weekend is by getting up a little early on Saturday morning to head off to an all day punk festival, which is what I did yesterday. Indeed, I got a much needed opportunity to see the Bouncing Souls again, as well as some lively performances by the Dillinger Escape Plan and the Gaslight Anthem.
Sun, beer, a few bratwursts, a bit more beer (and sun), and lots of sweaty people jumping around to some good music. There are worse ways to spend a Saturday.
Now, if I can talk myself into going to the gym, my weekend will be complete: a lot of debauchery redeemed by a sensible bit of fitness.
keep the faith
bryan
no soundtrack this time round. my ears are still ringing from yesterday.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
This Space Intentionally Left Blank
I opened an email earlier this week to find a one liner, "Remember when tonight used to be Red Square Retro night?"
Now, I could simply end this post right now and call it a justifiable blog entry, if only for the 5 people who read this who know how much the nachos used to cost at J Pepe's across the street from the Red Jacket (and perhaps always secretly wondered why the Ruby Room, which was really just a room just off the dance floor that had one couch in it, had to be so glamorized on the radio ads), but I'll use the statement as the perfect reason to write again.
The lack of posts since March is actually a good thing; spring in Germany is really nice. The weather improves, the terraces open up, the parks are filled with strollers and cyclists, and generally everyone spends as much time outside as they can, including myself.
Though I'll touch a bit more on the work front in a minute, I'll briefly state that April and May were busy months around the office, but pretty productive and actually kind of enjoyable. In my line of work, that's a sure sign that things will go tits up very soon, probably next week, but meanwhile, I have enjoyed the hell out of it.
I took advantage of the reduced work related stress, left the laptop at work, and spent many afternoons and evenings just doing whatever I felt like. Ambling through the weekly market, turning a quick coffee into a three hour conversation, stopping by the pub for a "couple," only to leave 9 hours later; it's a nice way to live your life.
Sure, one might say that I have a tendency to regularly spend 9 hours at a pop in my pub. There is some truth to that, and I do have a bit of a reputation of being able to go the distance. A neighbor stayed til close with me the other week, and the following morning, er mid-day, as it were, had a conversation with a mutual friend, who asked her, "Why are you so hungover?"
"I was in the pub last night drinking with Bryan."
"Ooh, say no more."
I can laugh at that conversation, as I ran into this same mutal friend (we've ended some late nights a few times greeting the morning joggers while sharing cigarettes on a parkbench ) last Saturday night as I was headed for home. She was pretty festive herself, and against my better judgement, I allowed myself to be dragged into a late night German pub for a few more rounds to celebrate someone's birthday. I can only imagine that she probably didn't go bike riding the next day, either.
It's not so much about the drink as it is the about the social opportunity. The community is somewhat small, but after 2 1/2 years, I feel a bit more attached to Bornheim. There are some pretty nice people here, and I've had the pleasure of getting to know some of them.
In German culture, it takes a while to become friends, and it can take a really long time to become good friends. Thus, you tend to have a lot more acquaintances. This has always been a bit of a challenge for me, as I've always thought it more important to have friends of quality as opposed to friends of quantity. I'm somewhere in the middle of that at the moment.
Because the community is relatively close-knit, I often hear many stories about people that "used" to live here. Or, I hear stories about "how" it used to be in the community. People move on, and new folks arrive. I'm able to understand this a little better now, as things do change quickly.
Thus, more than once, I've asked myself a similar question to, "remember when tonight used to be Red Square Retro night?"
It's a way of fondly reminiscing on the times of the past, and looking forward to the experiences to come.
Alas, the uncertainty of the future begins to loom. It's possible that we'll shift some things to Eastern Europe in the coming months. This will be rather interesting, as the answers to the questions I have had so far have only brought more questions.
More details on that and an update on the hilarity of my lovelife will come soon. Right now, I'm off to enjoy a coffee and do some shopping. I've a sudden urge to listen to OMD and watch the Breakfast Club. Thanks, Lori.
keep the faith
bryan
soundtrack:
Minor Threat - Straight Edge
The Exploited - Down Below
The Unseen - Scream Out
Now, I could simply end this post right now and call it a justifiable blog entry, if only for the 5 people who read this who know how much the nachos used to cost at J Pepe's across the street from the Red Jacket (and perhaps always secretly wondered why the Ruby Room, which was really just a room just off the dance floor that had one couch in it, had to be so glamorized on the radio ads), but I'll use the statement as the perfect reason to write again.
The lack of posts since March is actually a good thing; spring in Germany is really nice. The weather improves, the terraces open up, the parks are filled with strollers and cyclists, and generally everyone spends as much time outside as they can, including myself.
Though I'll touch a bit more on the work front in a minute, I'll briefly state that April and May were busy months around the office, but pretty productive and actually kind of enjoyable. In my line of work, that's a sure sign that things will go tits up very soon, probably next week, but meanwhile, I have enjoyed the hell out of it.
I took advantage of the reduced work related stress, left the laptop at work, and spent many afternoons and evenings just doing whatever I felt like. Ambling through the weekly market, turning a quick coffee into a three hour conversation, stopping by the pub for a "couple," only to leave 9 hours later; it's a nice way to live your life.
Sure, one might say that I have a tendency to regularly spend 9 hours at a pop in my pub. There is some truth to that, and I do have a bit of a reputation of being able to go the distance. A neighbor stayed til close with me the other week, and the following morning, er mid-day, as it were, had a conversation with a mutual friend, who asked her, "Why are you so hungover?"
"I was in the pub last night drinking with Bryan."
"Ooh, say no more."
I can laugh at that conversation, as I ran into this same mutal friend (we've ended some late nights a few times greeting the morning joggers while sharing cigarettes on a parkbench ) last Saturday night as I was headed for home. She was pretty festive herself, and against my better judgement, I allowed myself to be dragged into a late night German pub for a few more rounds to celebrate someone's birthday. I can only imagine that she probably didn't go bike riding the next day, either.
It's not so much about the drink as it is the about the social opportunity. The community is somewhat small, but after 2 1/2 years, I feel a bit more attached to Bornheim. There are some pretty nice people here, and I've had the pleasure of getting to know some of them.
In German culture, it takes a while to become friends, and it can take a really long time to become good friends. Thus, you tend to have a lot more acquaintances. This has always been a bit of a challenge for me, as I've always thought it more important to have friends of quality as opposed to friends of quantity. I'm somewhere in the middle of that at the moment.
Because the community is relatively close-knit, I often hear many stories about people that "used" to live here. Or, I hear stories about "how" it used to be in the community. People move on, and new folks arrive. I'm able to understand this a little better now, as things do change quickly.
Thus, more than once, I've asked myself a similar question to, "remember when tonight used to be Red Square Retro night?"
It's a way of fondly reminiscing on the times of the past, and looking forward to the experiences to come.
Alas, the uncertainty of the future begins to loom. It's possible that we'll shift some things to Eastern Europe in the coming months. This will be rather interesting, as the answers to the questions I have had so far have only brought more questions.
More details on that and an update on the hilarity of my lovelife will come soon. Right now, I'm off to enjoy a coffee and do some shopping. I've a sudden urge to listen to OMD and watch the Breakfast Club. Thanks, Lori.
keep the faith
bryan
soundtrack:
Minor Threat - Straight Edge
The Exploited - Down Below
The Unseen - Scream Out
Saturday, March 21, 2009
March Madness Without the Hoops
Pablo asked me last Saturday morning via Skype if Frankfurt had anything to compare to the Greenville Avenue block party St. Patrick's day celebration. I was out, er, celebrating at the time, so didn't get the message until later. I've been sort of reflecting on how to really answer that question during this past week.
I would tend to answer the question with initial quip, "yep, it's always St. Patrick's day here, simply because my Irish local happens to serve as my living room on a regular basis." I've tended to make the same remark about Halloween, "Everyday is Halloween for me." Folks who know what I do for a living, or at the very least have read some of the work related posts here can problably understand why I feel inclined to say it that way. Of course, I'm always giving nod to one particular Ministry song, too.
Though I will always have fond memories for the way Dallas celebrates March, I have kept the traditions alive over the past few years, with only a few slight variations. For example, Las Fallas, the weeklong celebration in Valencia, can easily be described as the best celebration that you never want to go to again, yet the very next year, you find yourself getting caught up in the fervor once again. I kept an eye on things from afar this past week as the celebrations came to an end; at least I could live a bit vicariously through my sister.
March has been pretty zany for a variety of reasons. We had a collosal backlog in the repair shop that HAD to be reduced and back under control by yesterday. We were able to accomplish this, but it was certainly not without a bit of stress for a LOT of people. During this same period, there were several birthday celebrations, which ultimately turned into rather small 12 hour long marathon block parties.
Six nations rugby is in full swing, which means that every other weekend, the pubs are full of expats who tend to be a bit bigger than the normal pub patron (at least at my local). While they tend to be lively, they tend to get drunk, then increasingly louder, then somewhat violent. At the very least, I notice that they usually overstay their welcome.
I'm not a small guy by any stretch, so I'm not really intimidated by the rugby crowd, and to be fair, some of the fans are really nice. However, as a football fan, I get really irritated having to compete with Rugby coverage; I want to see the football matches. Usually, this isn't a problem, though last Saturday I arrived in pub at 4pm on the dot to tune into the Arsenal game, only to find that the TV wasn't yet on the right channel. How big of a deal could that be? Huge.
I asked the busy bartender if he could sort things out. He had his hands full with the 15 pints he was trying to pull, but he made a quick stab at switiching the satellite, and succeeding in shutting off the rugby match that was already in progress. Suddenly, he had a bit of a problem. No one had a drink (including myself), and all the channels were screwed up. (note - it's a bit hard to explain, and perhaps not so important to the story, but there are multiple satellite boxes - one for Germany, and one for Ireland. There's a bit of a trick in getting one TV onto the right box).
The barman didn't react so well under pressure, so made a frantic call to the bar owner, who was out walking the dog. (Ray's team Liverpool had just completed a mauling of Man U; he had already seen his match so was out doing domestic things) In the end, the rugby got put back on, which settled those fans. Meanwhile, I sat watching a bit of Frankfurt Eintracht, then decided to watch the second half of Arsenal at another pub in the city.
Frankfurt is one of those cities where having a car is about as effective as trying to maintain a 2 Million Euro inventory on a legal pad. It's possible, but you'd better be fucking good. To get to city center, I can walk or drive the same distance in about 25 minutes. Or, I can take the U-Bahn, which will get me there in about 9 minutes. What's good, and what's logical?
I was counting on the 9 minutes last Saturday afternoon, but I hadn't anticipated the 10 minute delay in the subway. Long story short, I got to see HALF of the second half of the Arsenal match. All things considered, I saw all the goals, so you can almost argue that I saw the match.
However, Arsenal are finally playing well again, particularly since the beginning of March, so I find it important to catch every match I can. I've done well in this area, mostly thanks to the Liverpool fan bar owner who goes out of his way to ensure that he shows the Arse whenever possible. (Ray will often phone me to confirm that I need a certain TV or spot at the bar, particularly on the crowded rugby days. That's a very nice thing for a landlord to do)
Instead of college basketball tournaments, footy begins to take precedence during the month throughout Europe. It's the time of the season when things really get interesting: FA cup advanced rounds, Champs League and UEFA Cup matches, plus the normal leagues. It's the last quarter of the season, so everyone is jockeying for position. As I already mentioned, Arsenal are starting to show their form again, and it couldn't have come at a better time. They're still in FA cup and Champs League (bring on Villareal!), and they're showing all the right signs of solidifying their place in the top 4 for Premiership. Not too shabby, really.
The same goes for the other Euro countries, and Germany has recently gotten more interested in English and Spanish football. I believe that has a great deal to do with the fact that Bundesliga tends to be rather boring. Bayern Munich can be entertaining and annoying to watch, but beyond that, the league goes downhill quickly. Frankfurt is a middle to bottom half of the table club. They're the kind of team that can go up 3-0 against a better team, then give up 3 own goals for absolutely no reason whatsoever. They're their worst opponents, but sort of charming. Eintracht fans are pretty passionate, so it's easy for me to support the team, even if I can't name all the players.
That said, I still only get emotional about Arsenal, really. Take the last round of Champs League. Arsenal needed only to draw to proceed to the next round. Instead, the found themselves losing the 2nd leg, which forced extra time, and ultimately a penalty shootout. I hate that. Thank goodness that a friend happened to show up in the pub two weeks ago right as the shootout was beginning. She's actually an Eintracht fan, so appreciates football and wisely kept quiet as I tore my bierdeckel (coaster) to shreds. End result, Arsenal got through 7-6 on penalties; I haven't been so worked up since the final back in 2006. And Nathalie welcomed the post match celebratory Jaegermeister.
So March has been a pretty good month, all things considered. Sure, I spent way too much time in the pub, and probably need to stop saying each Monday afternoon on a conference call (in response to the question, "How was the weekend?") "I believe I abused my liver!" That said, you can simply appreciate that I extended my Greenville Ave Saturday before St Patrick's Day party experience and stretched it to cover the entire month.
Looking back, it probably wasn't such a good idea to have a vat of wine and some schnapps at a restaurant before heading off to the pub to mix more Pils and shots for the next 7 hours as I did at a birthday party two weeks ago. However, I'm off to Massimo or Zara today to see about replacing the belt and the coat that somehow didn't survive the evening too well.
St. Patrick's itself was a relatively quiet affair for me. The pub was too full of Ami's, and, as some of us found years ago back at the Dub, sometimes it's best to avoid your Irish local on special days where everyone suddently becomes "Irish."
Most Germans don't really keep up with the celebration, but then again, how many folks are going to follow Bornheim Kerb or Faschings, unless you're actually there in person. Several folks actually asked me about the significance of the event, and, I've since discovered, quite a few people have thought I am Irish.
I tend to speak German with Germans, and English with any English native speaker, for obvious reasons. Many natives here have experience in at least one English speaking country, and they tend to favor this country over the others. I know plenty of Germans who prefer the UK to Ireland, or the states to the UK. What I'm unable to figure out just yet is how they hear my personal accent, and what makes them think I'm speaking German with an Irish accent? Ah well, I'm sure that will all come in good time.
Time to wrap this up, I've scribbled random thoughts down for the last two hours and have a feeling this is a pretty disjointed piece. The month long Frankfurt celebration is coming to a close, and I'll go so far as to say that it was fun filled and action packed. Might as well make it routine, and do it again in April.
Spring is quickly approaching, which means the terraces will soon be filled with folks enjoying the nice weather. It makes for rather a pleasant time.
Support the Arse, keep the faith, and all that. See you out there.
bryan
soundtrack (don't laugh)
A Split Second - Flesh (wow, that's REALLY old)
Psychedelic Furs - House (mmmm, that one, too)
Alkaine Trio - Calling All Skeletons
Maná - Nada Que Perder
The Clash - Safe European Home
I would tend to answer the question with initial quip, "yep, it's always St. Patrick's day here, simply because my Irish local happens to serve as my living room on a regular basis." I've tended to make the same remark about Halloween, "Everyday is Halloween for me." Folks who know what I do for a living, or at the very least have read some of the work related posts here can problably understand why I feel inclined to say it that way. Of course, I'm always giving nod to one particular Ministry song, too.
Though I will always have fond memories for the way Dallas celebrates March, I have kept the traditions alive over the past few years, with only a few slight variations. For example, Las Fallas, the weeklong celebration in Valencia, can easily be described as the best celebration that you never want to go to again, yet the very next year, you find yourself getting caught up in the fervor once again. I kept an eye on things from afar this past week as the celebrations came to an end; at least I could live a bit vicariously through my sister.
March has been pretty zany for a variety of reasons. We had a collosal backlog in the repair shop that HAD to be reduced and back under control by yesterday. We were able to accomplish this, but it was certainly not without a bit of stress for a LOT of people. During this same period, there were several birthday celebrations, which ultimately turned into rather small 12 hour long marathon block parties.
Six nations rugby is in full swing, which means that every other weekend, the pubs are full of expats who tend to be a bit bigger than the normal pub patron (at least at my local). While they tend to be lively, they tend to get drunk, then increasingly louder, then somewhat violent. At the very least, I notice that they usually overstay their welcome.
I'm not a small guy by any stretch, so I'm not really intimidated by the rugby crowd, and to be fair, some of the fans are really nice. However, as a football fan, I get really irritated having to compete with Rugby coverage; I want to see the football matches. Usually, this isn't a problem, though last Saturday I arrived in pub at 4pm on the dot to tune into the Arsenal game, only to find that the TV wasn't yet on the right channel. How big of a deal could that be? Huge.
I asked the busy bartender if he could sort things out. He had his hands full with the 15 pints he was trying to pull, but he made a quick stab at switiching the satellite, and succeeding in shutting off the rugby match that was already in progress. Suddenly, he had a bit of a problem. No one had a drink (including myself), and all the channels were screwed up. (note - it's a bit hard to explain, and perhaps not so important to the story, but there are multiple satellite boxes - one for Germany, and one for Ireland. There's a bit of a trick in getting one TV onto the right box).
The barman didn't react so well under pressure, so made a frantic call to the bar owner, who was out walking the dog. (Ray's team Liverpool had just completed a mauling of Man U; he had already seen his match so was out doing domestic things) In the end, the rugby got put back on, which settled those fans. Meanwhile, I sat watching a bit of Frankfurt Eintracht, then decided to watch the second half of Arsenal at another pub in the city.
Frankfurt is one of those cities where having a car is about as effective as trying to maintain a 2 Million Euro inventory on a legal pad. It's possible, but you'd better be fucking good. To get to city center, I can walk or drive the same distance in about 25 minutes. Or, I can take the U-Bahn, which will get me there in about 9 minutes. What's good, and what's logical?
I was counting on the 9 minutes last Saturday afternoon, but I hadn't anticipated the 10 minute delay in the subway. Long story short, I got to see HALF of the second half of the Arsenal match. All things considered, I saw all the goals, so you can almost argue that I saw the match.
However, Arsenal are finally playing well again, particularly since the beginning of March, so I find it important to catch every match I can. I've done well in this area, mostly thanks to the Liverpool fan bar owner who goes out of his way to ensure that he shows the Arse whenever possible. (Ray will often phone me to confirm that I need a certain TV or spot at the bar, particularly on the crowded rugby days. That's a very nice thing for a landlord to do)
Instead of college basketball tournaments, footy begins to take precedence during the month throughout Europe. It's the time of the season when things really get interesting: FA cup advanced rounds, Champs League and UEFA Cup matches, plus the normal leagues. It's the last quarter of the season, so everyone is jockeying for position. As I already mentioned, Arsenal are starting to show their form again, and it couldn't have come at a better time. They're still in FA cup and Champs League (bring on Villareal!), and they're showing all the right signs of solidifying their place in the top 4 for Premiership. Not too shabby, really.
The same goes for the other Euro countries, and Germany has recently gotten more interested in English and Spanish football. I believe that has a great deal to do with the fact that Bundesliga tends to be rather boring. Bayern Munich can be entertaining and annoying to watch, but beyond that, the league goes downhill quickly. Frankfurt is a middle to bottom half of the table club. They're the kind of team that can go up 3-0 against a better team, then give up 3 own goals for absolutely no reason whatsoever. They're their worst opponents, but sort of charming. Eintracht fans are pretty passionate, so it's easy for me to support the team, even if I can't name all the players.
That said, I still only get emotional about Arsenal, really. Take the last round of Champs League. Arsenal needed only to draw to proceed to the next round. Instead, the found themselves losing the 2nd leg, which forced extra time, and ultimately a penalty shootout. I hate that. Thank goodness that a friend happened to show up in the pub two weeks ago right as the shootout was beginning. She's actually an Eintracht fan, so appreciates football and wisely kept quiet as I tore my bierdeckel (coaster) to shreds. End result, Arsenal got through 7-6 on penalties; I haven't been so worked up since the final back in 2006. And Nathalie welcomed the post match celebratory Jaegermeister.
So March has been a pretty good month, all things considered. Sure, I spent way too much time in the pub, and probably need to stop saying each Monday afternoon on a conference call (in response to the question, "How was the weekend?") "I believe I abused my liver!" That said, you can simply appreciate that I extended my Greenville Ave Saturday before St Patrick's Day party experience and stretched it to cover the entire month.
Looking back, it probably wasn't such a good idea to have a vat of wine and some schnapps at a restaurant before heading off to the pub to mix more Pils and shots for the next 7 hours as I did at a birthday party two weeks ago. However, I'm off to Massimo or Zara today to see about replacing the belt and the coat that somehow didn't survive the evening too well.
St. Patrick's itself was a relatively quiet affair for me. The pub was too full of Ami's, and, as some of us found years ago back at the Dub, sometimes it's best to avoid your Irish local on special days where everyone suddently becomes "Irish."
Most Germans don't really keep up with the celebration, but then again, how many folks are going to follow Bornheim Kerb or Faschings, unless you're actually there in person. Several folks actually asked me about the significance of the event, and, I've since discovered, quite a few people have thought I am Irish.
I tend to speak German with Germans, and English with any English native speaker, for obvious reasons. Many natives here have experience in at least one English speaking country, and they tend to favor this country over the others. I know plenty of Germans who prefer the UK to Ireland, or the states to the UK. What I'm unable to figure out just yet is how they hear my personal accent, and what makes them think I'm speaking German with an Irish accent? Ah well, I'm sure that will all come in good time.
Time to wrap this up, I've scribbled random thoughts down for the last two hours and have a feeling this is a pretty disjointed piece. The month long Frankfurt celebration is coming to a close, and I'll go so far as to say that it was fun filled and action packed. Might as well make it routine, and do it again in April.
Spring is quickly approaching, which means the terraces will soon be filled with folks enjoying the nice weather. It makes for rather a pleasant time.
Support the Arse, keep the faith, and all that. See you out there.
bryan
soundtrack (don't laugh)
A Split Second - Flesh (wow, that's REALLY old)
Psychedelic Furs - House (mmmm, that one, too)
Alkaine Trio - Calling All Skeletons
Maná - Nada Que Perder
The Clash - Safe European Home
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Feeling More, Thinking Less - Flying through 2009
During my visit to Valencia a couple of months ago, I had a coffee with my sister and a few friends, and received a bit of a bollocking from Christina, who wisely invited me to focus more on feeling rather than thinking, particularly as it related to my friendships and relationships.
I put this into practice almost immediately, with some rather alarming results. On Boxing Day at a family dinner, Daniel and I started playing with a small football in the living room. I was giving him "headers," and everything was going along just fine until a loose ball bounced backwards off of D's head onto the dining table, ultimately knocking a full glass of champagne into my mother's lap. End result - broken glass on the floor, wet mom, and two sheepish boys sitting in time out for bit with the instructions, "you guys need to think a little more about what you're doing! No ball playing in the house!"
A couple of mornings later, Daniel and I were watching cartoons. I decided to grab us a few actimels, so there we were hanging out, and I sort of said something like, "Actimels are really important for life." I was actually just enjoying a quiet morning watching some terribly violent Japanese cartoon on tv (turns out that one of us wasn't supposed to be watching that; at the time i didn't know) and thought it perfectly fitting to become the self-designated spokesman for strawberry Actimel. Daniel sort of took my statement literally, and told me later in the week, "but you SAID, they're really important for life!"
My nephew was in the stage where he's listening a lot more closely, and sometimes taking things a little to literally. Fortunately, during my little commercial moment on the couch, I did not say, "Actimel, it's like Jaegermeister for kids." I doubt that my nephew's mother would appreciate him repeating that.
For New Year's Eve celebrations, I hung out with a couple of friends. While we were preparing dinner in the kitchen, we discussed our Vorsatz for 2009. I basically conveyed that I would be doing less thinking and a lot more feeling during the year.
Within days, I had yet another incident that prompted me to wonder if I was perhaps taking things a little too literally myself. After freshly refilling my zippo one morning, I commuted to work. Upon my arrival, I plonked my backpack down in the Kantine, grabbed a cup of coffee, then went outside for a cigarette or two before starting the workday.
We have a little Raucherzone outside the factory building, and each morning about 9am there are 10 or so employees enjoying their break. Said individuals were treated to an impromptu "holyshit that fucking hurts!" show as I lit my cigarette with an overfilled zippo. Benzin fuel leaked onto my hand and then suddenly burst into flames. One might have thought I was at a stunt man audition or something. I casually tried to wave my hand to extinguish the flames (that has worked in the past, and yes this wasn't the first time i've done this) and succeeded in spreading the flames. The 4 second rule passed, hair was burning off my hand, and I almost panicked, but finally sorted things out, much to my great embarrassment. Once again, cursed with the "feel more, think less," concept.
I'm fortunate that I can laugh at these moments, since the year has been pretty challenging thus far. Like always, work tends to be the primary reason for this. As a result, my personal life and my personal health have probably suffered more than I would like. At the risk of jinxing myself for the umpteenth time, as I've said this more than once over the past couple of years, the past two months had more low points than high. Frequently in the past six weeks I have wondered just how much longer I would be in Germany, and what additional options could I create for myself. The emotional impact has been pretty chaotic, borderline insane. That typically doesn't do many good things for one's relationships, but I'm lucky that most folks here have expressed their concern and have been supportive. I'm very grateful for that.
The other day, I glanced at Facebook, and noticed a posting by Spence, who had written up his top 25 albumns of the moment, along with a bit of commentary. "Listening to the album Tommy at AC with Bryan." Reading that absolutely made my day. Funny, just when I needed yet another reminder about feeling the music. Interesting, too, that the album itself had a primary theme of someone who had to "feel more."
Later that same day, I completed a little compilation of music for a friend's upcoming birthday. As I was finalizing the track order, I spent more time feeling my way through it. The effect was fantastic, and as I listened to the playlist over and over, realized that I've fine tuned Chris' directive from December, and am truly feeling now more than ever. And it's cool.
A friend of mine noticed this a couple of nights ago, and in his sutble way, simply said, "welcome back."
Thanks. It's nice to be back.
keep the faith
bryan
I put this into practice almost immediately, with some rather alarming results. On Boxing Day at a family dinner, Daniel and I started playing with a small football in the living room. I was giving him "headers," and everything was going along just fine until a loose ball bounced backwards off of D's head onto the dining table, ultimately knocking a full glass of champagne into my mother's lap. End result - broken glass on the floor, wet mom, and two sheepish boys sitting in time out for bit with the instructions, "you guys need to think a little more about what you're doing! No ball playing in the house!"
A couple of mornings later, Daniel and I were watching cartoons. I decided to grab us a few actimels, so there we were hanging out, and I sort of said something like, "Actimels are really important for life." I was actually just enjoying a quiet morning watching some terribly violent Japanese cartoon on tv (turns out that one of us wasn't supposed to be watching that; at the time i didn't know) and thought it perfectly fitting to become the self-designated spokesman for strawberry Actimel. Daniel sort of took my statement literally, and told me later in the week, "but you SAID, they're really important for life!"
My nephew was in the stage where he's listening a lot more closely, and sometimes taking things a little to literally. Fortunately, during my little commercial moment on the couch, I did not say, "Actimel, it's like Jaegermeister for kids." I doubt that my nephew's mother would appreciate him repeating that.
For New Year's Eve celebrations, I hung out with a couple of friends. While we were preparing dinner in the kitchen, we discussed our Vorsatz for 2009. I basically conveyed that I would be doing less thinking and a lot more feeling during the year.
Within days, I had yet another incident that prompted me to wonder if I was perhaps taking things a little too literally myself. After freshly refilling my zippo one morning, I commuted to work. Upon my arrival, I plonked my backpack down in the Kantine, grabbed a cup of coffee, then went outside for a cigarette or two before starting the workday.
We have a little Raucherzone outside the factory building, and each morning about 9am there are 10 or so employees enjoying their break. Said individuals were treated to an impromptu "holyshit that fucking hurts!" show as I lit my cigarette with an overfilled zippo. Benzin fuel leaked onto my hand and then suddenly burst into flames. One might have thought I was at a stunt man audition or something. I casually tried to wave my hand to extinguish the flames (that has worked in the past, and yes this wasn't the first time i've done this) and succeeded in spreading the flames. The 4 second rule passed, hair was burning off my hand, and I almost panicked, but finally sorted things out, much to my great embarrassment. Once again, cursed with the "feel more, think less," concept.
I'm fortunate that I can laugh at these moments, since the year has been pretty challenging thus far. Like always, work tends to be the primary reason for this. As a result, my personal life and my personal health have probably suffered more than I would like. At the risk of jinxing myself for the umpteenth time, as I've said this more than once over the past couple of years, the past two months had more low points than high. Frequently in the past six weeks I have wondered just how much longer I would be in Germany, and what additional options could I create for myself. The emotional impact has been pretty chaotic, borderline insane. That typically doesn't do many good things for one's relationships, but I'm lucky that most folks here have expressed their concern and have been supportive. I'm very grateful for that.
The other day, I glanced at Facebook, and noticed a posting by Spence, who had written up his top 25 albumns of the moment, along with a bit of commentary. "Listening to the album Tommy at AC with Bryan." Reading that absolutely made my day. Funny, just when I needed yet another reminder about feeling the music. Interesting, too, that the album itself had a primary theme of someone who had to "feel more."
Later that same day, I completed a little compilation of music for a friend's upcoming birthday. As I was finalizing the track order, I spent more time feeling my way through it. The effect was fantastic, and as I listened to the playlist over and over, realized that I've fine tuned Chris' directive from December, and am truly feeling now more than ever. And it's cool.
A friend of mine noticed this a couple of nights ago, and in his sutble way, simply said, "welcome back."
Thanks. It's nice to be back.
keep the faith
bryan
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