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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

Rocking the Paradise

A few Saturdays ago, I was doing something in the kitchen and inexplicably rammed my head into the range over the stove top. I almost knocked myself loopy, but more or less found it funny until I glanced in the mirror later in the day and discovered that the experience had, indeed, left a mark.

Then, on that following Monday or Tuesday while at work, I was playing with with a piece of paper and ended up cutting myself on my face, right next to my nose. Of course, I wasn't really aware that I had done this until a girl who works for me said, "ohmygosh, Bryan, what did you do to yourself?"

Down the hall I went to inspect the damage, and discovered that I had a nice paper cut about an inch long. Impressive.

However, I've got enough battle scars from the routine events of work and my personal life, so these additions were not particularly needed or welcome. On the humorous side, they did give me chuckling material throughout the rest of the week.

That Friday was a pretty extensive day at work, but things really started clicking, and while we've always got plenty of challenges, I clocked out around 7pm feeling pretty comfortable with things (everything, that is, except for the fact that I was the last guy at work at 7pm on a Friday night).

I met up with my parents to have a bit of dinner in the pub. We were able to catch up a little more (after their arrival the previous day), but I wasn't too upset when they called it an early night around 10.30. Bed was on my brain, too, and after los padres headed for the U-Bahn, I stayed for a small beer just to finish the evening. As luck would have it, John walked in right as I was trying to pay out, which meant that I needed to stay for another, if not a couple.

OK, so it turned into two more pils and a glass of whiskey, but it wasn't a bad way to spend a Friday evening, even if there were way too many St Pauli hooligans hanging about.

Saturday needed to be a productive day: I absolutely had to get the flat cleaned before mom and dad came by that evening, and I really wanted to get into the gym, too. Furthermore, I was hoping to meet up with a friend, and this was likely to be a bit of an emotional chat.

The Blaggers ITA provided the rousing tunes that helped motiviate me to get the house pretty darn clean. I even got the mop out and swapped the tiles (What is it about "Oi!" that helps one scrub a dub dub?), then with complete satisfaction, jogged down the street to meet my friend. We had a much needed conversation, and at the end (she had to work), I felt much much better about a whole lot of things.

It pretty much served to launch the start of a nice holiday period for me.

Saturday evening, several of us headed off for a nice seasonal dinner at a local Frankfurt restaurant. The atmosphere was very festive, and all of us had a really excellent evening. I'd almost go so far as to say absolutely incredible, but will stop short of that, since I'm using way too many superlatives right now, and I'm not even describing football.

The following Monday and Tuesday were a bit hectic at work, but I bustled through and walked out of the office one last time (until, at least the end of the year) Tuesday evening and caught a train back to Frankfurt.

I toggled between the pub and the Kueche that evening, playing a bit of quiz, having a few drinks with friends, wishing everyone a good holiday. At least, I think that's what I was saying, but the drinks were flowing pretty quickly. A highlight was finding out later that we'd actually won the quiz, which was a delightful surprise.

Wednesday morning was spent throwing things into a duffel bag and preparing for Spain. I landed in Valencia late Wednesday afternoon and found Lynne and Daniel waiting for me at their metro stop. Man, I've got to start coming over a lot more frequently.

Coffees with Chris, Lolis and Lynne on Thursday morning gave me the chance to realize how poor my Spanish has become. That didn't stop Chris from giving me a bit of much needed advice on how to live my life with a bit more balance. Actually it was quite the thought provoking conversation. Amazing that as enigmatic as I try to be, just about everyone sees right through this and tends to point this very fact out to me whenever they feel compelled. It kind of cracks me up.

Just before lunchtime, I zipped into city to Casa Americana to see Alan, Pilar, and Jackie. Last year I was pretty much sick for my entire Christmas vacation and basically hadn't seen any of them in two years. Thus, this was an important visit. I found myself struggling terribly to speak with Pilar in Spanish. In fact, complete and utter disaster comes to mind. I think I actually may have inadvertently used a few Flemmish words, and I'm fucked if I know where that came from.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) there was no time for a coffee, Pilar was finishing work for the holidays herself, so I bid her farewell, then stayed to talk a bit more with Alan about the joys of program management in Germany during a worldwide economic, um, downturn. It was equally good to catch up on things at the center; teachers coming and going, etc.

I stopped in for a few guinness in Finnegan's to see some of the old crew, then got home in time to pick Daniel up from school and to prepare for mom and dad's arrival. This would mark the first time in almost a decade that I've been with my parents for Christmas. Kind of special.

Friday morning I walked around Valencia by myself, doing a bit of thought collecting and just enjoying the scene. Of course, I found myself back in Finnegan's, where I enjoyed another afternoon of guinness and the odd chat with some of the other regulars. Despite the fact that this pub is in a tourist hotspot of the city, I still like it. A lot of the employees have been around awhile, and the regulars are a bit similar to my own experience in my Frankfurt local (though we speak a lot less Spanish in Frankfurt). OK, so I missed lunch for the second straight day, but survived on a bag of chips and a couple of coffees.

Lynne's choir was singing that evening at a church across the plaza from the pub, but I wisely returned to Meliana so that we could return to the concert together as a family. (On other occasions I have used poor judgement and tried to sit through a 90 minute concert in a cold church, desperately needing to visit the gents.)

My nephew had been indicating that his tooth was very loose, and this stood to be the very first opportunity for the tooth fairy to come. As it were, Daniel decided to wiggle the tooth (as you do) for the entire concert, during which we had to utilize some kleenex to soak up the saliva and blood. I would have probably done the same thing as my nephew (a loose tooth just has to be wiggled), but I was getting a bit grossed out with the soggy kleenex. Finally, we both agreed to try and be patient; the tooth could come out later that evening in a more appropriate setting, namely the kitchen at home.

The concert was OK. A youth choir sang at the first part, but their performance was overwhelmed by the singers' parents, who were all busily videotaping the concert from the aisles as opposed to actually trying to enjoy the music.

Lynne's group didn't perform at their best, but I enjoyed it all the same. Afterwards, I was glad to greet everyone, all of which had been around three years before when I sang, too. All of us metroed home a bit later and met up for dinner in Meliana with a couple of other families. Quite the festive evening finished off by a couple of chupitos.

Saturday was another reunion day: Steph, Rafa, Ciara, and Luna came over for lunch, and we had a super afternoon visiting, playing, and reminiscing, never mind eating way too much. Luna was cracking me up. She never stopped beaming the entire time, but never uttered a peep. Older sister Ciara was much more chatty in both English and Spanish.

Rafa suggested (ok, demanded) that we go watch the 2nd half of the Real Madrid-Valencia match in Finnegan's, and I certainly wasn't about to turn that invite down. So, we drove back into Valencia together, listening to Miley Cyrus the whole way. Dude, that girl's music is awesome. I mean, really. I may just have to get satellite so I, too, can watch Hannah Montana on telly.

I better understood why Rafa felt so inclined for us to park the car and immediately hail a cab to the pub; living with three beautiful girls certainly has it's pros and cons. Driving around town in a beautiful A6 grooving to the greatest hits of Britney Spears and what not may not necessarily fall into the "pros" category.

Luckily, within a few minutes we were sipping beers, talking shop, and watching VCF hold their own with Real. Final score, 1-0 to Real, and we nipped to the restaurant next door in hopes that some tapas would help to soak up the beer (and the wine we'd had during the course of the afternoon), then returned to the pub for a couple more guinness to round out a very nice night.

Daniel sang at a concert in the local church early Sunday afternoon which was rather entertaining. There are loads of little ones in Meliana, and I think all of them were singing that afternoon. Fine by me; I was glad to have the opportunity to hear "Adeste Fideles" one more time.

I caught a few more football matches later that afternoon in Finnegan's, and just enjoyed the time in my Spanish local. There's just something about having a little welcoming place to collect the thoughts and relax, no matter what city I happen to be in. Obviously Valencia is special to me, and whether or not I ever choose to live here again is irrelevant. At the very least, I've got a home pub I'll always feel welcome in.

Monday was family baking day. We started early, finished late, but had loads of success. With mom and dad around, things were a bit more crowded in the kitchen, but we banged out plenty of Tollhouse, Haystacks, truffas, and a couple of other things my sister likes to do. I'm fairly sure we've got enough to satisfy our sweet tooths over the next couple of weeks. I am personally proud of the fact that I made all of the truffas myself.

A lot of people I've seen here have commented that I've lost a lot of weight. "Stress," has tended to be my reply, since I wouldn't say that my diet is the healthiest in Germany (nevermind the cigarettes and alcohol consumption). However, I noticed how skinny my legs are this morning while getting out of the shower, and while I believe it's ok to not have porked up, I'm gonna have to fix that somehow, and will probably start with a fair amount of whiskey's and christmas cookies over the course of the next several days.

I have managed to leave work in Germany; I've truly enjoyed myself over the past week. OK, I've talked a few times with some of my staff, but they're taking care of things for me, and I've not read a single work related email. Maybe I'm finally learning to find this work life/personal life balance after all. It's possible it's still too early to tell, so for the short term, I'll just continue to enjoy things as they come. More feeling, less thinking.

Yesterday, the whole family trooped into the city to finish up a bit of shopping. It was a bit exhausting, since most of the rest of the city had a similar idea, but it was still fun spending family time together. The odd carajillo helped, as well.

So here we are on Christmas Eve. We've finished up the decorated cookies today, had a nice lunch of potato bacon chowder (that we traditionally eat on the 24th, regardless of country), and have got a nice bundt cake ready for Christmas morning.

I'll take the moment to wish everyone a Happy Christmas, wherever you happen to be.

note - the soundtrack for this piece is a bit of a hodge podge.
1) Pablo's Christmas mix - a lovely CD that Sr Pascal produced several years ago; it's firmly cemented in the CD changer at this time of year. Er, in between Il Divo and the soundtrack from Toys.
2) Hot Potato, Hot Potato - this little gem comes from the fact that it's the song that popped into my head upon entering my sister's kitchen and seeing this years Christmas pic of the McKee kids, right next to their picture from the year before and the year before that. Great stuff, and it's pretty great that Goliad has such a global influence.
3) Styx - Paradise Theater - OK, this is a stretch. Two random evenings in the past month I've been at a pub doing the quiz night in Frankfurt. On two separate rounds, I had to dig deep into the memorybank to pull out the band and song title of two tracks by Styx. No one believed me the first time I answered correctly (how could Bryan possibly know Styx, he only listens to punk!) but after we won the quiz that night, no one has really questioned my ability at the quickie.

Come to think of it, I'm rather glad that there aren't too many questions about Broadway musicals; I'm not sure I want that many people knowing that I'm able to sing both the male and female parts to the main song from 7 Brides for 7 Brothers...and whatever would that do for my enigmatic reputation?

keep the faith
bryan

Random Acts - Blue in the Face part 2

OK, so the last bit might have been on the not quite so cheery/positive side, so I'll switch gears and give a brief update on the things that make this experience I'm having in Germany so great. Most of it's basic, hardly profound, but important to relate all the same.

This won't be a top list of great things, since I've managed to lose the notes I made on the train the other month. Instead, it will simply be a list of intersting bits.

1) late night Kebap shops - There's just nothing better than staggering into Miro's on any given evening around 2am (or 12 or 10, depending on sobriety state) and having someone whip you up a couple of durums. They always ask you if you'd like a nice tea to drink while you wait, and you always say yes, whether you want it or not. Sometimes guys are in there playing cards, sometimes some guy is scratching out a tune on a guitar. You never know, and you always enjoy it, even the next morning when you're asking yourself why on earth did you think you could eat 2 doners in the same sitting.

2) hitting the metro at the right time - For some reason, every time I go to my local U-Bahn stop, I walk down the stairs, and then feel really cool as the wind tunnels through (usually because of a departing or an arriving train). My jacket sort of whooshes out, and I always feel like I'm in a John Woo film. (note - this may be one of those things that you just have to experience to appreciate)

2 1/2) hitting the metro at the right time - there's a guy who sometimes busks in my U-Bahn. He plays a mean Spanish guitar, and without fail, I give the guy 2 euros, even if I'm blaring my iPod and can't hear a thing he's playing. I've heard him enough times before and recognize the smirk on his face as he plays to himself. Very cool.

3) hitting the metro at the wrong time - Despite the random trash and the lunatics that tend to ride on a regular basis (that probably includes me), the metro is pretty straight forward, effecient, and easy. I don't like having to wait too long for a train to come by, and normally, my timing is pretty good. However, sometimes, you're forced to sit there and wait almost 10 minutes.

Last Friday around noon (hungover from hell day), I was standing there wondering where the fuck my iPod was (home in the jacket pocket of my other coat) when an clearly insane man started having a very enthusiastic conversation with someone invisible. There were a fair amount of people standing around waiting, and no one was really paying attention to him, though just about everyone gave him the odd glance out of the corner of their eye. Suddenly, some jerk started mucking about with this man. The jerk did a little dance right in front of him, then grabbed the man's cane and started walking briskly towards the exit. The unfortunate insane man suddenly reentered reality and was pursuing him, shouting, "hey, that's my cane."

In two years, I've been fortunate not to have seen something this sad. My thoughts that day were already a bit dark, and they brightened only a little when finally a woman jumped in and retrieved the cane for the ailing old man. Very weird.

4) Creatures of habit - the workers at the Crobag right next to platform 13 in the hauptbahnhof are totally in the groove, and they're always ready to get me a milchkaffee on the fly when I race up to the counter to grab a coffee before I jump on my train for work.

The girls that work in the kiosk in Darmstadt HBF are pretty much the exact same. They're always appreciative and pleasant when I drop by to pick up a few packets of cigarettes. Yes, I tend to see them almost as regularly as the Crobag crowd, but that's just because I appreciate being appreciated.

Recently, I caught a late train home from Darmstadt and got into the small bar just as the guy was closing up for the evening (there's an onboard bistro on one of my regular trains). The guy recognized me and handed me a Beck's even though the til was closed up tight. "Enjoy it, " he said. I did.

5) Enjoy the thanks - Last Saturday, I had the team work, as we needed to reduce our repair backlog. This normally doesn't go over well with the workers, but I'll be the first one to stand up and say that I'd just as soon not do the Saturdays either. However, sometimes you have to. Normally, I go in to show support for the team, but because of the recent hours I'd worked, I needed to stay at home and be quiet. Nonetheless, I arranged to buy the team lunch as my personal way of saying thanks for the extra work. (note - most Germans I've met don't know how to react when I thank them for doing a task). I quietly mentioned to the supervisors that I had personally forked over a couple hundred (or so) Euros to fund enough pizzas for the team (2nd note - we've got a pizzeria down the street from the repair center that's fucking good).

On the following Monday, I discovered that my gesture had created quite a stir. One of the other repair lines had also worked the Saturday, but those employees initially thought that they'd been jilted, only to find out that they had misinformation.

Quite a few members of the team that works for me approached me at various times during the course of that Monday to say thanks for what I'd done. It's amazing how a few pizzas go so far.

Yep, it's not the biggest of lists, but they all impact me, and help me to realize that for now, at any rate, I'm still where I need to be.

keep the faith
bryan

Blue in the Face - Random thoughts in the cold

I feel like the past two weeks have flown by in slow motion. I spent Thanksgiving day preparing my team for a physical inventory of our materials, but took a few minutes to live vicariously through the statesiders by reading the remarks they were leaving on facebook: i've eaten too much and now it's time for football tended to be the general theme.

For the next week, I clocked 14 hour days and impressed myself by getting up each day at 5am and walking into the office around 6.45. I convinced myself that I was being productive, and in all actuality, I was. However, by the following Thursday, I was noticeably tired, and about 10 people in a row commented as such. Thankfully, most of the remarks were caring and genuine; only a couple were of the "geez, you like total hell" type.

I popped into the pub last Thursday and ended up playing a bit of quiz and chatting with some folks I hadn't seen in a while. Unfortunately, I bumped into someone I wasn't expecting to see, and, after 80 hours of work in about 5 days, you don't always come across as you'd like to. Thus, I sort of made a shambles of a conversation with a friend, and foolishly drank myself through the experience as opposed to wising up and fucking off home to safety.

Alas, I was scheduled off for the Friday, but, upon waking at 11am, pulled myself together and went into the office. We'd just been notified of a business review scheduled the next week in Brussels. Crap timing, I'd say, since this was the third "day off" I'd taken in the past 4 weeks, which basically meant I went to work and told people I was on holiday anyway.

True, I was a bit hungover last Friday, but did manage to get some things done during the afternoon. I spent a relatively quiet weekend watching a few films and visiting the gym. I attempted to do a bit of Christmas shopping, but lost interest about 15 minutes after entering a crowded store, and elected to return home, where I stayed in most of the rest of the weekend.

Sunday afternoon I tried to do some work on the presentation we'd need to give in Brussels, but everything felt a bit disjointed. An executive in our company made a last minute decision that the PMs wouldn't make the business review trip. Instead, only the sales guy and the two General Managers of the repair sites would make the trek to lovely office park land right next to Brussels international airport.

After a few hours trying to put some stuff together, I basically gave up and decided to go to the gym. That turned out to be a pretty good outing, and around 8pm, I finished up and stopped off at the pub for a couple of pints and a chat. I was able to collect my thoughts a bit, and suddenly found myself really feeling in the spirit of the season.

I had a nice chat with a few folks, and all in all, it wrapped up the weekend rather nicely. At least things ended on a decent note.

Monday had me up and at 'em at the crack of dawn, and once again I strolled into the office at a quarter to 7, pretty fired up on coffee and Alkaline Trio. The day was relatively stressful (which is like saying Bryan is just a casual smoker), but brightened considerably that evening when I entered the pub to see a few friends sitting around to partake in steak night. My local offers a pretty decent sizzling steak on Monday evenings at a special price. I'm not the world's biggest red meat fan, but must admit that the steaks are pretty good.

I was already feeling a bit pensive and distant from everyone, but was enjoying the company all the same. However, it was hard to dismiss the fact that my boss was about to meet our customer the next morning in Brussels, and things are not particularly stellar in our repair program at the given moment, for a variety of reasons. I figured that he'd take a big bollocking during the meeting based on our recent performace. We all know that I've been married to the job for a long time, and I take this stuff way too personally. As a result, I've got one of the better programs going in Europe, but at the expense of me. Despite my efforts, though, the customer still expects more. Up til now, I've not quite been able to find the right balance. These thoughts were all racing through my mind for most of the evening.

Long story short, as everyone was enjoying the end of their meal and the post dinner conversation, I once again put my foot in my mouth with the very same person from the previous Thursday, and things quickly went south. A nice evening basically ruined in a 30 second statement.

I felt pretty lost after that, so paid up and walked out off the pub intent on going home to be where others weren't. Sleep was shit at best, and I woke up Tuesday feeling pretty lousy for two reasons: one, my boss was about to get a pounding in a city 4 hours away, and second, I was finding myself once again on the brink of losing a friend that I don't want to lose.

The day was actually rather quiet, maybe too quiet. Besides a 15 minute conversation with my boss around 8am, I heard nothing else from him the rest of the day. Meanwhile, I wasn't thinking too much about work, anyway. Too many other thoughts on the brain.

At any rate, I found enough tunes to help me plow through the day, and the next, and even today.

The end of the year quickly approaches, and we're all racing around trying to get a bunch of stuff done before everyone jumps on their holidays. I'm away next Wednesday to Spain, and there's a lot to do between now and then. And who am I kidding, I'll be on the clock (and probably participating in a conference call or three) while I'm mucking about in Valencia, but at least I'll be mucking around in another city. It's time to get out of town for a few days.

Here's hoping I can pull everything together between now and next Wednesday.

keep the faith
bryan

Can burning the candle at both ends kill an iPod?

I watched Arsenal advance to the next round of Champs League last night, and was feeling relatively pleased with things as I grabbed a couple of kepabs from Miro and headed for home.

My mood quickly darkened when I tried to connect up the iPod. Nothing but the little sound you get when you plug something in your USB port, but no power, no "iTUNEs is up," or anything like that.

As I'd only had a couple of guinness during the match, my wits were about me, and I was feeling a bit frustrated sitting at my pc trying to figure out the problem. While I was waiting (and munching on a durum), I skimmed a few emails to find one that irritated me enough that I simply powered down and went to bed, hoping like hell that I'd wake up this morning with a fresh angle on fixing my tunes.

OK, I didn't sleep well, and almost actually lounged in bed too long, but I did give the "reset" trick on the iPOD one more shot this morning and smiled when I saw the logo appear on the little screen. We've always known that I've got to have the music, and as I've got a TON to do in the next several days workwise, this seemingly insignificant bit of having an iPOD ALMOST die was going to go down as a really catastrophic thing. Fortunately, everything has worked out ok so far, and I smiled all the way to work.

Yep, for some reason, this time of year (when every other industry seems to slow down) gets more and more busy for us, which sucks for me, because I work in a place where no one seems to understand the concept. I've got a lot of colleagues who have already blown through their 30 days of holiday this year and STILL expect to have a week or so off at Christmas. It doesn't matter if I turn their vacation apps down, they'll just call in sick, and in Germany if you so much as sneeze you get a doctors note for a week off.

So be it, is what I'm saying. I'm hoping to stay relatively healthy myself, especially next month when I get back over to Spain.

The staying out too late and coming home at 8am (normally only on the weekends) is in full swing for me right now, and it's fun. It's particularly nice to cross paths with the early morning joggers who clearly did not just spend the past 12 hours doing what I was doing.

For those of you who make it into the Monk on this fine Thanksgiving Eve, enjoy yourselves, and give everyone my best. I'm going to go listen to "Reggata de Blanc" and "Alec Eiffel," again; those were the first two songs to pop up this morning, and they're both just mighty fine.

keep the faith
bryan

The Quck Scoop

I was sitting in my local pub last Friday night enjoying a routine night chatting with friends and listening to a couple of rather proficient guys play a live acoustic set, and suddenly noticed that everyone entering the tavern was shaking snow off their heads and shoulders; the first snow of the season!

It wasn’t just a fluffy pile of flakes, initially. In fact, some of us thought it was hail. It was actually snowing “buckets,” and was really coming down. The storm didn’t last all that long, though. A bit later, I went outside for a few minutes to sort of take advantage of the piece and quiet. I always enjoy the silence a snowfall brings, and was thinking to myself how absolutely nice my little corner of Bornheim happens to be, when BAM, I got hit in the head with a rather large snowball that Marc had just thrown at me. I laughed as I shook snow off myself, and did that little “whoo!” thing that you have to do when snow gets inside your collar and goes down your back.

Quite the way to be brought back to reality.

It’s been a few months of these kinds of moments for me recently, though without the snow. I am always aware that my job is one where you can never quite settle down and relax. There’s always another challenge or problem lurking around the corner, and while I certainly feel more prepared to address these “delights” in the workplace, I certainly wouldn’t be offended if we’d have a few more moments of calm and stability.

A new Geschäftsführer started working with us about a month ago. I welcome his presence, as it’s the start we need in order to bring stability back into the workplace. On the other hand, he’s got a lot to do in a short amount of time, so he’s having to get up to speed very quickly. We do get along, so far, which is promising. Additionally, he’s got a plan, which I find to be most comforting.

How effective will this plan be?

That remains to be seen. Recent events in the economy aren’t making the laptop repair industry particularly easy to operate in. And, my company seems to be pretty good at making things complicated without the help of an ailing economy, anyway.

While all of you are celebrating Thanksgiving, I’ll be doing a physical inventory of all of the spare parts in our repair center. Then, immediately after that, I’ll try to squeeze one or two business reviews in with my customers. It’s not yet determined where or when these meetings will occur, but it always seems to be like this in the last month of the year. Everyone runs about trying to do all the stuff they didn’t get completed during the other 11 months of the year, then we take a few days off to celebrate Christmas, then we start the whole process all over again.

I’m not complaining (though there are a few words I might otherwise use to describe the circumstances if it weren’t for the fact that small children might read this), just simply relating the facts as they relate to never a dull moment European repair logistics.

A quick word about the German reaction to the US election. I would say that the over all reaction is rather positive, though it took me several tries to truly explain just how the electoral college works, etc. My sources for world news tend to come from international English press as opposed to German newspapers, etc. However, I did find myself discussing the election regularly throughout the last couple of months with various friends and colleagues. Most are always interested to find that I come from Texas, and though I believe I’ve mentioned this once or twice before, it never ceases to amaze me that they immediately say something to the effect of, “EEEWW! Bush comes from there!”

“Fair point,” I often reply. Then, depending on the nature of the other person, I’ll decide whether or not to really try to defend myself. Only once have I had to remind them about their own history and one Charlie Chaplin look-alike (or at least the haircut and silly moustache). That’s really playing out of bounds as far as I’m concerned. All countries have their moments where they weren’t quite at their best.

We will have to see where things go come January. I think that most Germans are a bit skeptic. How can one guy change the world considering the state it’s in?

We’ve got to start somewhere, eh?

We had another nice snowfall on Sunday evening, and I brushed a few flakes off my coat as I got on the bus after work this evening. Thus, I’m going to sign of and head off in search of Marc. I believe he’s due for a snowball fight.

keep the faith
Bryan

Another Tick in the Box - Keeping the Faith

So, life continues at a frantic pace. Playing the role of a swashbuckling program manager is a strange one; the mere concept elludes most people. Yeah, I probably work a few too many hours each week, and as ususal, can see myself never really able to get out from underneath the pressure of it all.

That said, I'm still fighting for it, and still getting the results.

But enough about that...

Last Friday night, I had the absolute pleasure of seeing one Wayne Hussey play a solo set in a local haunt in Frankfurt. I stumbled across the information by accident a few weeks ago when I was having a conversation with a friend of mine in the pub. She mentioned that the lead singer of the Mission was coming through town, and I quickly put it on my radar.

Strangely enough, I actually was feeling indifferent to the show right up until Friday night. I had had a word with John in the pub about it right after I learned of the concert, and invited him along for the crack, as he tends to be up for this kind of thing. The week or so before the show, he mentioned in passing that he was not totally enthralled with the music, but more or less asked me to keep him informed; he'd go along in the event that I needed the support.

It depends on what you consider as needing support; I ultimately dragged him out, and we were both treated to a bloody great show. Stimmt.

Although a band that easily hits my top 5 groups of all time, I never thought I would have the opportunity to see the Mission UK, and by the mid 90s had already written the chance off. Sure, I've kept an ear open for signs or sounds of them through the years, but really just resigned myself to listening to the Mission that I've always preferred: that of the late 80s and very early 90s, the years of angst ridden adolescence and college. At one point during school, I actually stopped talking about the group as a heavy influence on my life, until I bumped into my friend Kitsie, who happened to be a pretty big fan of the group, also.

I permanently loaned a couple of Mission CDs to a Spanish girl Christina that worked in my Irish local in Valencia. She comes from the same town as Heroes del Silencio, a Spanish group that for me, happens to be a latino equivalent to the Mission.

I arrived at the club last Friday just as Wayne Hussey was starting the first song. OK, so it was only him playing, but play he did. He put on a brilliant little set, mixing loads of original Mission songs with a handful of covers. He played both acoustic guitar and piano, and truly amazed us all.
Unfortunately, I can't really capture the moment as I'd like to, but will simply leave it as an experience that absolutely makes my fall. For me, it's like UT winning the UT-OU game, or Obama winning the election. Sure, maybe both of those things happened, also, but I'm the one that's still smiling to myself saying, "damn, he downed a bottle of red wine, then ripped out a killer acoustic version of "Wasteland," followed later by what I have to say is the best piano cover I've ever heard of "With or without you." How cool is that?"

Pretty fucking great.

Like all German shows that I've been to, this one started early, and ended early. The encore got cut short by the fact that the club needed to reopen as a hip-hop club within the hour. That meant that by 11pm, I was back in my local, cutting up with whoever was about.

That also meant that I drank far too much got way too silly.

Of course, I'd forgotten all about this until the following afternoon when I returned to the pub to watch the 2nd half of the Arsenal - ManU match. The Arsenal victory just made the weekend all the more enjoyable, and things continued on through the Saturday evening and Sunday.

So, it's Monday night, and I've had a stressful day at work, but can still go to bed tonight knowing that I had a super weekend, and after almost 25 years of being a huge fan, I can finally say that I've seen the lead singer of the Mission. And that's good enough for me.

that's the short report for now,

keep the faith
bryan

No Hope, No Fear

There was a great song from a band called Borghesia called, "No Hope No Fear," which I've always enjoyed listening to.

Sure enough, it's the one song that isn't currently in my cache of music, but fuck it, I'll find it sooner or later for download. I fear the CD is stuck deep in a box somewhere in someone's closet. The compilation was called Electronic Body Music, and right now, I'm listening to a lot of dark electronica. When I went to search for it this morning on the way to work (in the ipod library), I realized I would have to wait.

It's been fun and zippy over the past couple of weeks. I love fall, so as the leaves change and the weather gets cooler, I constantly look forward to football matches on Saturday and Sunday afternoon, and try to fit in my domestic duties around a few games.

This past weekend was quite the lively one: Man U were held by Everton, Liverpool beat Chelsea, and thank goodness Arsenal managed to win 2-0 against West Ham Sunday evening.
I actually only saw the Arsenal match; I spent a good portion of the weekend getting back into the gym thing.

For the better part of the past six months, I've really only done sport on the weekends, and while I've been fairly serious about it, it's never enough, particularly on the rations I allow myself for cigarettes and alcohol.

Thankfully, I finally told myself enough is enough, and have gone back to every other day visits into the gym. Not surprisingly, my energy is coming back, my fitness is improving, and yeah, ok, maybe schnitzel is not the BEST thing to be eating post workout, but I'm not going to really knock it either. Besides, before this turns into a Henry Rollins kind of thing (man, that guy likes to workout a lot!), I'm still clipping along having pils and Jagers anytime I fancy it.

That said, I like the routine of bouncing around the fitness studio multiple times a week, even with the goofy short guys that are constantly flexing and checking themselves out in the mirrors. Let it be said, whether Dallas or Frankfurt, the trendy gyms are still the trendy gyms.

On other fronts, I believe my capabilities in German seem to be hitting a plateau. Thus, I'm renewing my focus on trying to communicate a bit more intelligently. No easy task, but it certainly helps when I study more regularly.

The concern about my language skills came from the realization that perhaps my team doesn't always understand what I'm trying to say in the workplace. Embarassingly enough, I always have mistaken their puzzled looks for the sheer bewilderment that their boss listens to copious amounts of punk rock on the way to work each morning at a deafening level on the ipod and shows up for the start of each work day pretty wound up.

At any rate, the grammar books are reopened, and I often eat dinner with Genativ, Dativ, and Akkusativ. Before you say, "gee, that sounds really boring," let me express my own slight concern that my new Bavarian boss is soon to hold our first staff meeting and I do NOT want to be the only guy that has to ask for everything to be repeated. I've gone the past six months without sitting through a 3 hour management meeting conducted solely in German, and need to react now and get back in the groove.

Alas, there's really nothing other to report this week save for the escapade I had on the regional bahn this morning enroute to work. I found a spot on the train, shrugged my gym bag and backpack off my shoulders, then said, "what the fuck!!???!??" as I realized that, once again, a bird has taken advantage of my naivity and pooped on my rucksack. Thank goodness it wasn't my head, but geez, it was a bit more than I wanted to deal with at 8am on a rainy morning.

Not to worry, I got it cleaned (more or less) with a couple of wet wipes (live and learn, eh?) and strolled into work with, er, no hope, and no fear.

keep the faith
bryan

Nada Que Perder

A friend of mine turned 40 last weekend, and being that we share some similar music tastes, I elected to put together a little birthday mix for her of tracks from about 20 years ago. (gasp)

So, during the daily commutes in the metro and the train, I shuffled through my iPod trying to find 16 or so songs that I thought fitting. Identifying them wasn't a challenge, nor was creating the correct order of the playlist. However, I completely forgot that most of my stuff isn't on my PC, but instead solely on my iPod. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but as I tend to procrastinate, I found myself terribly hungover last Saturday(previous night was a going away party for another friend moving to Munich) and trying to figure out just how I was going to get this simple CD burned.

Since I recently got a new laptop with much more capacity, I realized that the best thing would be to simply dump my iPod back onto my PC, then import everything back into iTunes. I spent the 30 minutes waiting for the iPod to PC transfer to complete doing a bit of vaccuming and other random domestic stuff, then the real fun started.

Embarassing enough, I work in the tech industry and forgot that you don't just DUMP a 500mb folder anywhere. As I had 49 folders to muck about with, I suddenly realized that this project was going to take a while. And, this was only to be able to START creating the playlist.

Two Skpe calls, half a bottle of baileys (don't ask) and 30 folders later, I had 13 of the 16 songs. The problem was that each folder contained hundreds of songs, all coded in away that don't easily enable one to just select the immediately required files. Once or twice I pictured someone (namely me) getting really frustrated trying to go through 6000 CDs without any liner notes attempting to find "that really cool song i used to listen to about 10 years ago that i forgot the name of." It wasn't pretty, and thank goodness I came to my senses and decided that I'd just have to bring the gift belatedly. As it was, I stopped dumping files around 10pm, quickly showered, then ran next door to join up with those of us from the Bornheim pub area that were to taxi to the restaurant where the party was held.

The party was fun, but I called it an early night and left around 3.

I resumed my project again when I woke up, and got the result within about an hour: all tunes back in iTunes, particularly the 16, and after a quick burn, I had my gift ready. Even better was the fact that I ran into the birthday girl (whose birthday was actually on Sunday; Germans beging the birthday celebrations at 12.01am on the day of their birthday, which is why the party was on Saturday) in the highstreet, and ticked the box for having given the gift on the right date.

All in all, a fairly decent weekend, one that included the added joy of finally, after many many months of waiting, getting some boots that I'd ordered from England (via the US). Amusingly enough, I initially thought that the boots didn't fit, but then later realized that I was just really hungover when I tried them on. Had I put the shoestrings through the proper eyes, things would have been OK right from the start. So, I'm now bopping around town in a new pair of Gripfast. Cool. Definitely worth the wait.

The week before the birthday party, I was in Edinburgh on business, which turned out to be a really nice time, also. My hotel was in city center right at the base of the castle. It was a bit hard to hide my enthusiasm in front of my supplier, but she accepted the fact that I was a big fan of the city. Alas, I didn't run into Ian Rankin in any of the bars I was in, but I was thrilled to be there regardless.

Workwise, it's been nonstop bop. Q4 forecasts, 2009 budget and plan, a random problem or two created by our facility in Prague, and a few exasperated moments where I called someone a complete prat on a conference call (perfectly justified, i thought) are just some of the highlights of the busy days. My new boss started working this past week, too. Should be very interesting in the coming weeks.

On the social front, things are wacky as usual, and currently they're a bit emotional, but I know that Alles wird gut.

I'll leave you with that. I've got to go and fight for a friend.

keep the faith
bryan

tracklist -
Mana - Nada que perder
Blaggers ITA - Oxygen
Alkaline Trio - Over and Out