LOL John sez

Im in ur quilt, stealin ur warmth.

(I refuse to spell q-words with k, even if it would fit the genre. BTW, Texas seems to have a shortage of qs and cs, judging by the signs.)

Off to read to Hannah. Maybe more tomorrow.

Ps.

While we were gone, it snowed about 10 centimeters. Crazy!

Back in the Saddle Again, Listing Heavily

We're back, but jet lag is stomping our butts. We just got Hannah off to school about an hour ago, and I hope she doesn't suffer too much on the first day of classes after vacation. Some of the other kids and teachers may be suffering, too, so at least she'll have some company.

The trip to the States was punctuated by one heavy nosebleed and about 3 barf-ups, but on the trip back, Hannah only barfed, twice on the plane and once in the car. We have realized that the main factor in her travel sickness is lack of sleep. It turns out that my mother and my great-aunt were also prone to that type of (travel) sickness when they were younger. My good friend WesTexGirl the biologist can even explain why that is, although my head is too fuzzy to drag the reason back out of the recesses of my brain from when she told me 2 weeks ago.

Anyhoo, we came back to a relatively clean house (no thanks to the cats and their endless shedding and litter-strewing and barfing) and live pets, so the pet-sitters got some nifty thank-you presents from Texas.

So that is the quick wrap-up. I am trying to get most of our 319 photos from our trip up on Flickr as quickly as possible, so feel free to wander over there to check them out. In addition to my normal photo stream, I'll have 3 folders--West Texas, South Texas, and Loosiana.

Stuff

Every once in a while, John gets a wild hair and declares, “We need stuff!” That’s when we get on amazon and start picking out things we have mentioned in passing that we need: more seasons of Futurama, Van Halen CDs, Terry Pratchett books. Since we’ll be in Texas starting at 9 pm on Sunday—woooooo!—we are having some of our stuff sent to family there. We always buy an obscene amount of junk food when we visit, and this year we plan to do some shopping for clothes*, so the books, CDs, and DVDs will have company in the spare suitcase we are going to bring along.

* My fear of German department stores is only exceeded by my fear of German hairdressers, hence my overall ragged appearance these days.

One recent acquisition was 2 seasons of the BBC sci-fi comedy Hyperdrive. We saw the last episode of season 2 while we were in Scotland, and at first we thought it was that Scottish fan-made version of Star Trek. It is very funny, but the characters are not quite as cut-and-dried as you might think at first.

While we were on a roll, we also took care of some stuff we had been putting off for no particularly good reason. I bought a new modem cable, since our old one was missing a clip and kept falling out of my laptop whenever I wanted to use it. Then I got rid of 3 of these:



and replaced them with 3 of these:



It took me forever to find the right-sized replacement blinds since the windows are quite old and slanted (attic apartment), but perseverance and the Internet stood me in good stead. I even got a discount as a first-time customer and free shipping.

Here is my next DIY project for when we get back from Texas:



The lack of shades meant that the cushion was sitting in direct sunlight for however long the old shade was broken before we moved in and the time it took us to realize the landlord wasn’t going to manage to bring a new one and rig something up ourselves. By that point the cushion cover was already starting to rip. So now that we can block the sunlight to that spot, I will try to find some sufficiently ugly fabric to replace the previous ugly fabric and make new covers.

Then after that I will try to find a replacement for the built-in, under-the-sink garbage can that is on its last legs. After 4+ years, this place is starting to look rather scarred, so a few minor repairs are in order. I’ve always thought of myself as rather handy, but a lack of power tools prevents me from taking on really big jobs/injuries. Which is just as well. But the idea that I could actually improve things on my own seems to be part of my American spirit of self-sufficiency. If I don’t manage to burn down the house in the process of these littler projects, John and I might do a little (very little!) wallpapering and painting. Oooh, the skillz!

Drive-By

Hannah dipped a french fry in ketchup the other day and declared that the end result looked like an Elvis hair-style. Then she started singing "You ain't nothing but a corndog." *sniff* I love her so much.

My brain does not know how to take our upcoming trip. When we bought the tickets, we knew we were cutting it relatively close. But yesterday, I realized that it was only a week away. aaaaack! How did that happen? I knew it, but it didn't seem to sink in before then. This is even with the travel dreams/nightmares that already started last week. Of course, I hardly know what day it is. On Friday, I went downstairs to wish John a happy anniversary, only to make the embarrassing discovery that I was 4 days early. So my brain is not exactly working at top capacity right now, dig?

I have a couple of other things to mention, but I need to upload some photos first, so maybe I will get around to it this afternoon. Or maybe not. You know me, LAZY.

Hannah is great, eats chocolate cake

It feels like Hannah is turning into a teenager right before our eyes. I know our family is going to be astounded when they see her next month. She talks about puberty a lot, but she seems to think that puberty = emotional turmoil, and disregards the rest of it. This weekend, she told us a couple of times about her mood swings between sadness that two of her favorite movie series are over, and happiness that she gets to go to Holiday Park for her birthday (which is still 2+ months away); she looks absolutely manic when she mentions the happy side of the equation. Then this morning she woke up on the wrong side of the bed; while resting her head on her arm on the dining table, she stated that she hated puberty. Apparently puberty is to blame for every bad feeling these days. If so, do you think I can get away with blaming my bad moods on puberty? Can it continue up to 35? I know that acne can.

Despite the occasional slip-ups in common sense (e.g. wearing her rollerblades on stairs after taking a fall on stairs on rollerblades), she is getting to be quite mature and self-sufficient.* Every afternoon after homework, she sorts out her school books for the next day and packs up her backpack. Every evening before bed, she picks out her clothes for the next day and sets them out to put on the next morning. And she gets herself to and from school each day without muss or fuss. I just wish she would put her toys away on her own initiative, but she is getting better about picking up with less supervision.

* She proved herself more reliable than John on the day when she got herself home after going to a movie with me, but John didn’t start the dinner (I had class until 6). I had considered phoning to check on each of those things, but figured they could manage on their own. I was correct in only one case.

Another way in which she is pretty trustworthy is on the internet. We kind of eased her into it, finding acceptable sites for her or okaying sites she found herself (Barbie), and giving her straightforward rules about not giving out personal info and not signing up for sites without our permission. Since then, she has found some really cool games online, like Neopets and Panfu (panda RPG), or Jetztspielen (Play Now), a collection of super excellent games like whack-a-garden gnome (aka Hammer Heads) or fairy fishing. But the pinnacle of her game searching has to be Wiggi Walk, a game that teaches kids about internet safety. It’s in English, and I would recommend it to any other kids starting out on the internet.

Her most recent find, through Jetztspielen, has been Girlz MMORPG (massively multiplayer online role-playing game). Basically, she can only do a limited number of things on there, like run around, drive a car, and dance, and the interaction with the other players is limited to a chat string, most of which consist of the players asking each other how old they are and which country they are from. And there’s always this one person: “Is anyone Duuuuutch?” I watched over Hannah’s shoulder one day (‘cause she doesn’t mind), and all that running around and scenery moving made me feel sick. Better her than me. She often tells us about other people she has met there, and last weekend she had 2 “dates”. One person never came (who knows what time zone that person is in, so maybe they missed each other by an hour), and the other person only stuck around for a short time; she realizes that “friendships” online (and I use that term loosely) are fleeting things.

Catchin' On Up

This is going to be one of those horribly boring catch-up posts, so feel free to note that I actually did post something—for a change—and go about your merry way until the next real post.

We have all taken a turn at being sick. John is just now getting over his, and it has been a week. He is not so congested any more, but he still has a cough and a raspy voice. Hannah had the congestion first, and she seemed to be mostly over it when she woke up puking at midnight a couple of Sundays ago. Not fun. (Probably due to too much popcorn and pizza on a movie outing with her friend.) I barely had a sniffle, not even enough to affect my sleep, so I got off easiest. Woo! (So sad, when that is the woo-able-est thing to happen to me in a while.)

Hannah was required to get in-line skates for P.E., and while waiting yesterday for her friend to meet up with her to practice (it’s her first pair of skates), she fell on her back. She didn’t even have a bruise, but she informed me later that she had the air knocked out of her. I assume she survived gym today, because I haven’t gotten a phone call.

Hannah wanted to play baby, but I insisted that she not crap her pants. “No, I only crap on the crapper.” That’s more like it. (I can’t really get on to her about bad language when I started it.)



John bought a new bike.

John finally went to the back doctor while he is not actually crippled with pain and got set up for some physical therapy.

We had dinner with some friends, and Hannah actually ate pretty well, surprising my friend since I always complain about Hannah’s eating habits. Luckily, they were serving Asian food, and Hannah will always eat soup and rice, usually together. We are having them over on Saturday, and I have no idea what to serve.

Spring has sprung, completely giving Winter a miss. After a sunny but cold week, we’ve had several days of off-and-on rain and slightly warmer than the already warm-ish temps. I think someplace in Germany even managed to break their record high over the weekend. I think I mentioned the blooming trees that started back in January; now we’ve got bulbs coming up all over the place. The crocuses even managed to beat the snowdrops this year!



I finished my grades and stuff and vow never to teach again. I just don’t think I can handle the responsibility. To make up for that, I took on a quick proofreading job. The woman who sent me the document was so happy with my work and the quick turnaround that she gave me a 20 euro bonus. Mo’ money!

I bought a bunch of baskets at a going-out-of-business sale.

I went to the crazy enormous grocery store and managed to get out before I went completely mad. Imagine, if you will, the first time you ever set foot in a Walmart Supercenter or a Whole Foods or Central Market. That is how it feels to me every time I go (which is twice now to this one, and about every 2 months to this other one). It didn’t help that I didn’t have an actual grocery list with me, and Hannah called me in the middle of my trek to let me know that she had fallen hard while skating, while I was a 30-minute drive away. But she calmed down while I was on the phone with her, and I flew through the last 2 miles of store so I could go to the skating area, just to find that they had already gone. But then I saw her at the bus stop, so she and her friend got a ride home.

Hannah has been to 3 movies in 2 weeks. Thankfully, neither John nor I had to go with her to any of them, but then again, she stuffs herself full of sugar and grease as soon as she is out of sight of us (see puking, above), so it is a mixed blessing.

I turned 35.

(That's a 3 plus 5 candles in a row, which makes 35, right?)

Hannah bought me some horrible socks that I love


and some cookies, and John came home laden with gifts, flowers, and cake. No one felt up to going out to do something, so we had a quiet time at home.


Hannah was traumatized by her mouse nibbling on her finger and accidentally chewing off a bit of fresh nail polish. Of course this happened at bedtime, so Hannah was crying and upset, a perfect send-off to sleepy land. We kept an eye on the mouse, and she is fine. I think it was little kid nail polish, so hopefully it wasn’t *as* toxic as adult nail polish.

The end.

You guys are lucky

...I have John and Hannah to generate content for this blog, cuz otherwise I got nothing. I mean, the semester is over, so there are no weirdos to sit next to in class for me to report on, and I probably won't be riding the bus back and forth as much since I am now down one tutee (she is going to take an English class at the community college).

Hannah dug out her old electronic pig who is supposed to walk and grunt, but even with fresh batteries, he is defective. That doesn't matter to Hannah, though. She has dragged him around for several days now. She put a necklace on him, and I found her sticking the Kellies (the littlest Barbies) under his necklace. Hannah suggested that when people die, that's how they get to heaven--strapped to a pig.

Between the Barbies and the pig and a doll bed, the couch was pretty cluttered, so John told Hannah to clear it off (he's so picky about there being places available to *sit*). When he saw that the doll bed was still there, he gave her another reminder. Then she pointed out that the pig was in the doll bed, asleep. And of course that led John to make a comment about a pig in a blanket.
Me: *snort*
H: Be careful what you say, or piggy will kick your butt, Dad.
Me: Ha! Piggy can't even walk; he's a paraplegic.
H: But *Miss* Piggy is his aunt, and he has a cell phone.
Can't argue with her logic.

We all read a little as part of our bedtime routines (well, sometimes I do sudoku), and in addition, Eliza cat gets some petting from John. But when he is ready to read, it's nuts to Eliza:
"This is a book, Eliza. You can't be a part of it because you're illiterate."

Maybe someday soon I will also be witty, but don't hold your breath waiting for it.

For the ladies

A quickie from my notebook:

Before class, I stuffed myself full of fat, salt, sugar, and caffein, the 4* food groups for the menstruating woman.

*I have heard that there is a 5th group--orange--but this hasn't been independently confirmed.

Hannah's school vacation

I took Hannah and her friend to an indoor water park last week while she was on vacation from school. Hannah is really a water-slide girl, but she took time out from her sliding frenzy to hop into the wave pool when they turned it on every half hour.

Hannah is *pale*. Despite being a natural brunette in a highly blonde society, compared to the pale peach of her German friend’s skin, Hannah is parchment colored. There are fungi growing in caves darker than her. John would probably attribute this to the fact that she refuses to leave the house unless there is the promise of ice cream or a video rental at the end of the walk, but it is winter, and everyone is pasty.

It was raining when we got there (it hailed twice before we even left the house that morning), but the sun came out briefly while we were there, deliciously scorching me through the plexiglas roof. It was the best 5 minutes of my day (spread out over two shinings).

Hannah and friend spotted a couple of girls from their elementary school class and went over to say hi. And were promptly snubbed. Hannah wasn’t particularly good friends with them back in the day anyhow, so she just shrugged it off with the 10-year-old equivalent of “eh—dicks”.

When Hannah has a school vacation, she goes back and forth between utter, tv-watching boredom and maniacal self-entertainment. She was out all last week (she goes back tomorrow), so when she hasn’t been watching videos or playing Sims on the computer/Nintendo, she has actually had a pretty full schedule:
practicing her stage-diving / dying dramatically from a self-inflicted plastic-sword wound onto a pile of pillows and blankets on the sofa-bed
whacking a tennis ball around the apartment without breaking anything
working on her skills as a one-man band


and training her stuffed animals to be back-up/stage crew

Photo bonanza!

Slapping up some photos with commentary is much easier than coming up with real content, so here comes a whole pile of new photos.

Hannah desperately needed new shoes, so we hit the shoe store before going to the movies last week. She now wears the same size shoes as my mother (who admittedly has wee little fairy feet, but who is nonetheless an adult). Can you say „bling!“? (John still refuses to believe that this is a real word.)



Hannah goes through phases of digging stuff out of the backs of closets to play with, and the sports supplies have come out recently. Here, she donned a pair of rubber gloves so the black grip on the tennis racket wouldn’t continue to turn her hands black. (I don’t know what the deal is, but this photo has gotten 25 views at Flickr, without me adding any special tags.)



Here are my new glasses. You might expect them to be made of solid gold, considering how much they cost me, but no—they are plastic and metal.



Did you ever see that segment of the Muppets with the vend-o-face machine? Hannah is one of their best customers. (Oddly, she found all the parts to this get-up, minus the band-aids, in the kitchen utensil drawer.)



Here’s where Hannah stores her nose when she’s not using it. (Not something you want to see when you go into the kitchen!)



Hannah got into my make-up while I was off giving an exam last night. Sparkly! And pink!



Hannah wanted to make a cup-and-string phone, but it doesn’t work with plastic cups, so she re-purposed it to function as a pull-system of communication: 1 pull = turn out the lights, etc.

I know I’m lame

I held the last session of my class last week, so I didn’t have to teach this morning. Plus, I feel a cold coming on, and it is too cold and wet to bother going to the Mardi Gras parade, so without further ado, here is something from my notebook, written last Friday:

When I finish this course today (on break!), I’ll have spent 15 hours (minus breaks) learning what to expect from my master’s thesis and exams. The class has been useful, if redundant; everything is covered twice—once for the literature people and once for the linguistics people. But I’ve learned something every session, so it hasn’t been a complete waste of time.

Most of the other students are pretty sharp (you’d hope they would be by this point) and ask pertinent questions, but there are a few that make me wonder how they get their pants on in the morning without help. (And somebody smells like corn! I hope it isn’t me, since I am generally well groomed and haven’t eaten corn in ages...)

During one of the breaks, I braved the coffee machine. I know—I swore it off a while back, but I only had 45 cents, which is just enough to buy a cup of crappy coffee out of the machine. But check it out: I put in 45 cents and got a cup of crappy coffee and 40 cents back. Wh--? Then when I went to put my cup in the recycling machine for the 10-cent refund, I found that the last person didn’t take their 10 cents out. So basically, someone *paid me* 15 cents to drink a cup of crappy instant coffee. I won against the machine!

Eeeeeek!

Hannah has always been squeamish about certain things*: Don't talk about body parts! Change the channel when the lion eats the antelope!

*She reminds me of her uncle, Mr. Jooge, back in the days before he married into a family with a physical therapist in it.

Recently we saw a tv show that briefly covered the lungfish. This fish can breathe on land in the time it takes it to flop from one puddle to the next. It is totally slimy and floppy and gross, but still cool somehow. Hannah is (half-jokingly) convinced that our floor is infested with lungfish. Despite my repeated assurances that lungfish are unlikely to make it up to our fourth-floor apartment and through the tile floor, and that the only things on our floor are hair, crumbs, and dust, she won't put her feet down on the floor at least once a day, whenever she thinks about the lungfish.

Of course, this leads to Games You Can Play With Your Squeamish Child. Dropped something on the floor? Watch out for the lungfish!! heh heh heh

Bowels R Us

Today I visited the ladies' room on the same floor as the classrooms in the English department. I usually don't even bother and climb at least one flight of stairs up to find suitably appointed facilities. I was cutting it close before the start of class--the one I was teaching--so I stuck to the first floor toilets. And boy was I pleasantly surprised. Ok, it did smell like pee, but there was toilet paper, soap, towels, and an unclogged toilet, so I was able to overlook that minor annoyance.

Later, I took Hannah to the movies because she got out of school early. We were the first ones in the theater (Hannah really had to go, so we bought our tickets *early*), so we got to enjoy the aroma of a lost diaper while we waited for the movie to start. Every time we dropped something on the floor and had to feel around for it in the gloom, the search was accompanied by a cry of despair: Oh, no! Loooooost diaperrrr!

With my luck, the bus will smell like vomit to complete the trifecta of gross for me today.

For John: During the trailers for the movie, Hannah said, "That Werbung stinked!"

So silly, so true

Hannah wanted some of John's chocolate, and he told her she'd have to put away her laundry first. "Screw it," she replied. She couldn't resist the chocolate for long, though, and put away the clothes about 5 minutes later.

John has been very hard on Missy cat lately, claiming that my mom gave her to us because she (the cat, not my mom) was not very classy. That's right, a low-class cat. John says I'm allowed to tell my mom as revenge for her frequent commentary on the state of his butt.

He also seems to think that Eliza cat is classy, just because she has fluffy fur. This is the cat that won't jump up on the bed when I am in it, just sits there whining until I wish there *was* a monster under the bed to eat her.

It is sometimes difficult to convince Hannah not to do things. For instance, she wouldn't stop whacking me with the oven mitts the other day, even though I repeatedly told her that mitts are not meant for violence, they are tools of peace. Instigator.

Sitting on the bus today, I had front-row seats for some extra-special craziness. First, this young woman got on who was extremely loud and friendly; I marked her as drunk and foreign right away. She sat across the aisle from me, and her low-key talking to herself was pretty noticeable from my vantage. At first I thought she might have a wireless phone*, but then I realized that, no, she was just talking to herself. Talking morphed into a noise that was either crying or laughing, I couldn't tell. Then I realized she was singing along to an iPod *and* crying. She must really take her music seriously, I thought to myself. Then she started flipping out--she tried to climb out of the window, or at least stick her head through, but it was too narrow. She climbed up and stood on the seat and shouted out through the window how much she hated this town and the people in this town--but naturally only the mean, bad ones. The whole time she is crying and crooning bits of this song in French. I was very happy to get off the bus and away from her. She smiled at me as I got off.

* The last time we were in the States, I saw a lady who could have been the twin of my mom walking around with one of those bluetooth thingies attached to her head. I don't think I had ever seen one here in Germany, and I still haven't seen many since then, but you know something has reached market saturation when the middle-aged set is using it.

Nee is dull

Sometimes I think I was born a stick in the mud. John loves to go to different cultural events, especially musical performances, but he doesn't often rope me into going along. Last Saturday night was one of those rare occasions. The Swedish club sponsored a trio to sing and play piano, and Hannah and I went for moral support (and cashiering, it turned out).

The concert was held at the library. I have been using the library for 4 years and never knew that there was a recital hall upstairs. In the upstairs foyer, there was an exhibit of photographs; the theme of the exhibit was transience. I didn't really care for many of the photos. They felt self-consciously pretentious to me, and a bit too random to fit neatly into the theme. But there were some photos I found really touching, especially the ones with a young person and an older relative, the tenderness and love that was apparent in the younger person. There were two other photos I particularly liked, one of a pre-schooler holding her mouth like the child in the (obviously very old) photo she is holding, the other of an old woman holding a photo of herself as a young woman. To me, those spoke of transience, in the person they used to be and the life they were about to leave behind.

Walking around looking at the photos reminded me that I used to enjoy going to museums and plays when I was a student. There's hardly a building on the UT campus that doesn't have some sort of museum or historical display in it, so I had plenty of chances to indulge my interest back then. And the semester John took a drama appreciation class, he was required to attend X number of plays, so I went with him. We saw a lot of wonderful performances that I still remember: Tennessee William's _Camino Royale_, Moliere's _Learned Ladies_, a short play _View From the Rollercoaster_ by ?? (a lovely short play about a gay blind date).

John has dragged Hannah and me along to some musical performances that were just wonderful--an evening of Arab music--and some that were bo-ring, but *drag* always seems to be the operative word. My intransigence has probably rubbed off on Hannah, and that is really not fair to her (1) or to John, who is so eager to experience new things. I don't know why I am so reluctant to leave the house, but that is something I can change.

(1) There are many things that Hannah is not interested in due to overexposure in her childhood: "Not another castle!" "I don't want to go to college when I get big!" "A concert? Bo-ring!"

Ow! My brain!

From the bus (at a stop) I spotted a man with a dog. The man had a plastic bag, and I assumed he was waiting for his dog to do his business. But no--once he got the bag over his hand, he called the dog over, squatted behind it, and apparently had it crap directly onto his bag-covered hand.* I have never seen such a conscientious dog-owner. I have to admit, though, that I felt part of my brain fall out when l saw his particular brand of conscientiousness.

* As I told John later, it was really cold out, so at least the "poop-scooping" served a double-purpose: waste removal and hand warmer.

Hope Springs Eternal

We have been having really up-and-down weather this winter. I swear that our first winter here, the temps hovered just above freezing for months and months. We got snow occasionally, and it stuck around for a pretty long time once it had fallen. Now, it rained buckets yesterday, but we had frost on all the cars this morning. Plus, small bushes are blooming. In January. So when I saw that the local old-fashioned hardware shop* had put wooden sleds out, I had to applaud them for not giving up on winter just yet.

* I love this shop, although I've never been in. It reminds me of the old True-Value hardware stores (I think) in my hometown, with the amazing variety of small appliances, tools, and household stuff. The prices seem to be a bit stiff, but I may treat myself to an old-fashioned cookie press and some baking supplies when my birthday rolls around. **

**Gah! 35 in one month! Ack!

John's back has crapped out on him again. He's been trapped in the recliner with some aspirin and a hot-water bottle since Sunday. Since then, we've been arguing about the advisability of sex in that state. I'll let you guess which position John has taken on the matter. (Hint--John is a man.) He thinks he'll be able to go back to work tomorrow, even if he is still a little crooked.

You can tell Hannah is getting older: her list of wants is changing. At xmas she still wanted some Ken dolls; now she wants to dye her hair red and learn how to ski. If she doesn't start studying properly and bring her grades up, she is going to want some new parents, because she will be in deep do-doo with the ones she has.

Out and About With Nee

Recently spotted by yours truly in the main shopping street:

1 bunny on a leash
1 guy juggling flaming batons
1 guy singing Calypso
1 Shetland pony
1 llama

We saw the pony last week when we left my department on the way to dinner, and the llama a little later; they were part of a fundraiser to feed circus animals. I was hoping to come across an elephant or a monkey, but no such luck. We did see a little girl and her mom walking around with a couple of puppets, and then we saw them again after dinner, but I don't think they were with the circus people.

Then I saw the pony again this week and decided to make a small donation if the llama was out. It was, so I did, and I gave it a little pat. It is amazing how a smal pat on a llama can brighten your day.

There was also this little old lady at the bus terminal. She was dressed nice, but she stopped every few feet to turn back and loudly berate some people waiting for a bus, including another litle old lady. That was at 7 am. The next time I saw her, around noon, a knot of police were standing around her. It's always something at the bus stop.

10 Things

John Scalzi recently had an entry up, "10 (More) Things I've Done You Probably Haven't". I felt a bit timid about commenting with a list of my own, especially since lots of people seem to have hobnobbed with the great and nearly-great, but that's no reason not to do it here. Feel free to add your own list in the comments.

1. I have lived in a foreign country for over a quarter of my life. (Hannah has lived abroad for over half of her life now.)

2. I have stood on the roof of King's College Chapel at Cambridge University.

3. I got perfect scores on 2 out of 3 sections on the GRE, 4-1/2 years after graduating from college.

4. I have an acknowledgement for my copyediting work in Historiographia Linguistica.

5. I was once (at 26) the youngest presenter ever at a national conference for distance educators. (To be fair, my boss, quite a bit older than 26, was slated to give the presentation but had to leave due to a family crisis.)

6. By the end of next year, I will have a BA with a double major from an American university and an MA with a double major from a German university.

7. I worked a full 8-hour day on the day I went into labor with Hannah. She was a week overdue at the time.

8. I was the only person in my school year, in the whole city, to make all-region band in the 9th grade.

9. From the age of birth to 18, I lived in 5 places in 2 countries and 2 states. Since 18, I have lived in 11 places in Austin, 1 place in Sweden, and 1 place in Germany, for a grand total of 18 locations.

10. The only time I have ever been high was during dental surgery (when I became one with Gustav Mahler's First Symphony).

From My Bookmarks

This post is the archive for my "From My Bookmarks" links from the sidebar. As noted, it is a rotating list, and the items that are rotated out will end up here.

Julia
I, Asshole
Mandajuice
Bad News Hughes now The Domesticated Shithead
The Rage Diaries now Filthy Commerce (but still good!)
mimi smartypants
Indexed
Ayyyy! Gently Making Fun of the Famous

New to Me

This post is the archive for my "New to Me" links from the sidebar. I'll periodically move items from there to here when I add new items there.

How to learn Swedish in 1000 difficult lessons
LA en vie now defunct
List of the Day
Homesick Texan
Bad Astronomy Blog
Fake Plastic Fish

Artist in Training

Hannah spent most of one day painting this lovely picture of a lady.



She went back and worked on touching it up the next day, too, and even painted a frame to put around it. Then she hung it up in her room.

Then she turned it to face the wall, because the eyes were staring at her while she was trying to go to sleep.



(That’s it next to the cabinet across the room from the bed.)

Pick-me-up

One of the things I like about Germany is the love of fresh flowers. I needed a little pick-me-up today, and for 1.99 (less than ANYTHING in Starbucks*) I got these to cheer up the dining room.



*A second Starbucks** opened up on the same street as the first one, but on the opposite end. *insert sound of gnashing teeth* I solemnly swear that the one time I went into the one Starbucks will be the only time I ever go into any Starbucks.

**I still laugh myself stupid at Starbucks being the headquarters for Dr. Evil's international evil organization in the Austin Power's movie.

Make-Over in Miniature

Friday evening we went out to eat, and Hannah informed us that short hair is now “in”, and “I want to be in.” She refused to let me take her to a salon; she was worried that she would end up with an actual “style”, when all she wanted was a chop straight across the bottom.

Here, Hannah fresh from the shower:



The difference 8 or 9 inches makes:



The carnage:



And finally, the new “in” girl:

Sugar and Spice and Death and Gore

Have you ever noticed that sometimes you will come across several similar items while roaming around the internet? For me, it has been a string of things: first Star Wars (I couldn't swing a dead cat around here without it landing on something Star Wars), then the town of the job interview, and now candy Lord of the Rings.

Here we have the Lord of the Peeps: Fellowship of the Peep. Nothing says high fantasy like sugar bunnies.

Last xmas we got The Battle of Helms Deep in Karo-vision.

Now this xmas we've gotten The Battle of Pelennor Fields, in all its sugary fierceness.

And to finish out the group, an older site, Peep Research. Who knew Peeps were so academically inclined?

Self-Referential to the Max

Let us share a moment of silence for the demise of Le Mariage Royale, my favorite formalwear shop to fug on. Since Cindi Lauper and Björk can only buy so many evening gowns, it was a foregone conclusion that its days were numbered. But at least there’s a silver lining: the sewing shop next door has expanded into the empty space, so now you don’t have to anchor yourself to the front door before burrowing your way through to the button display in the back.

No one wants to hear this, but I must rant about it somewhere, so feel free to move on to the end now. Still here? Anyhoo, my favorite short-cut street has apparently become a favorite dog-walking street judging by all the piles of dog crap I had to dodge yesterday. Oh, and a drunk short-cut, going by the barf. I think it is time to start issuing dogs with diapers, like Hannah came up with all those years ago. I wonder how practical a head diaper would be, to be handed out at the door of the local bars when customers leave. Maybe with goggles attached?

I am not really big on the idea of New Year’s resolutions, because it seems that self-improvement should be an on-going thing. But when everyone else is talking about it, it is a good reminder that maybe the improvement is not improving at the rate I would like, and maybe I should reanalyze. So other people’s resolutions are ok, I guess. Poor John gets to hear me moan and groan about my deficiencies, so I won’t burden you all here, but I do have mini-goals I could share:
Take my iron every day.
Drink more water.
Spend more time each week walking, and not just in the course of my day. (I must point out, though, that my office is on the 4th floor of the English Department (78 stairs and 2 long hallways from the front door), and I go there 2-3 times per week. Our apartment is on the 3rd floor of our house (40 stairs), and our bedroom is upstairs in our apartment. So I have totally got stairs covered.)

And finally, I wanted to share this photo of the best dad in the world:



He actually didn’t volunteer to play Barbies—he had them thrust upon him by a very insistent Hannah.

Stop—Burgertime!

My grandfather always liked to get in on the ground-floor of new technology, so he was an early buyer of the Betamax video player and the Intellivision videogame system. When he moved up to the next new thing, we often inherited his old stuff. John still laughs at me a little for playing on a game system that had a disc instead of proper buttons. My all-time favorite game was Burger Time: A little chef runs around the screen trying to make the layers of a hamburger drop down while avoiding the evil weenies, eggs, and pickles. If you manage to drop a layer onto a bad condiment, there is a satisfying *squish* sound; AND you are armed with pepper that you can spray onto the baddies and freeze them temporarily.

I check the DamnHellAssKings site pretty often for updates and just noticed this new site linked recently: Videogamey. I was totally hooked when I saw the post "Walking Egg From Burgertime, Internal Monologue Of." *insert sound of breathless laughter*

Then tonight, Hannah found the SpongeBob version on the Nick web site. They call it Patty Panic, but it is totally Burgertime Nick-point-oh. At least Hannah will know the joy that is Burgertime, even if in a bastardized and commercialized form that I, a purist, will never stoop to play (while anyone is looking).

Save our earth

I am a big fan of The Rage Diaries and the interesting articles and commentary provided by Lisa Schmeiser.

In the same vein, I just came across this article at Arthur Frommer's blog (of the Frommer's travel guides):

Arthur Frommer Online: I got the strangest reaction when I recently suggested the adoption of a system for turning out lights in a hotel room

I secretly worry that the end of civilization as we know it will end with a crash and bang (and soon!), and I catch myself mentally cataloging the items in our home that we could eat for nutrition or burn for warmth. When I read an article like this, I don't know whether I should be relieved that someone is putting the word out or worried that no one is listening.

Antique Cooking

John has been pestering me about using the dates I bought a while back (because he wants to eat the leftovers), so I finally got around to baking a date cake from a recipe hand-written by my great-grandmother. It turned up somewhere in the family, and copies were made for all the grandchildren. I don't know if my mom or sisters have tried it out yet, so I might be the first in years and years. But I am sharing it here now.

It was super easy to make (although chopping up gummy dates was a bit of a sticky mess) and tastes pretty good. John is the connoisseur of date cakes, since his grandmother makes one (although it is more like a fruitcake with dates in it), and he liked it, too.

Enjoy!



Date Cake

1 cup of chopped dates
1 cup of boiling water
1 teaspoon of [baking] soda
1 Tablespoon of butter
1 cup of sugar
1 egg
2 cups of flour
1 teaspoon of baking powder
spick of salt
1/2 cup nut meats
1 teaspoon of vanilla

Sprinkle soda over dates; add boiling water, butter, and sugar. Beat until all is dissolved [I just stirred vigorously with a spoon]. Add beaten egg. Sift flour, baking powder, and salt into mixture and stir. Add nuts and vanilla. Bake in loaf pan in moderate oven [350]. Black walnuts are best.
[I used a well-buttered and floured bundt pan and baked for 30 minutes.]

The Last Bit of Xmas

For some reason, John's grandmother used to think that a bed-in-a-bag was the perfect xmas present, and all us grandkids ended up exchanging them right away. On the other hand, John's mother always had her finger on the pulse of our interests and needs and would find appropriate gifts for us. How ironic that this year, we took the xmas money from John's mom and bought bedding with it.



These down comforters are *so* fluffy and warm. I will never sleep under anything else.

I love tacky xmas socks, but mine are getting a little thin. I knew that John would not lower himself to actually buy me any, so when I saw some in town, I bought 2 pairs.



For some reason, my pictures get cut off on the right, so you all are missing the glory of my leg hair. If it were actually visible (and you can see it in full if you click on it), I would have made the Internet collectively barf. (BTW Jooge, the next time your mom gives you a hard time about your leg-shaving habits, let her take a look at this photo. And tell her that I've seen hairy-er toddlers (no offense) *g*).

I bought John the first season of Futurama on DVD from amazon-uk, and for some reason, the titles and directions are all in Italian. We have checked and double-checked all the settings, and everything *should* be in English, but that doesn't seem to matter to our DVD player. At least Hannah is giving her language skills a work-out by figuring out what the labels say for us.

Happy New Year to you!

We had a good time at our friends' last night. They brought out their raclette grill for us. I bought one for John for xmas, so I'll have to post pictures of it when we finally get around to using it, but it is basically a type of indoor grill. The top is sort of like a griddle; our friends put a couple of dishes to keep hot on there. Then there are little non-stick pans that you slide under the griddle surface, and the heating element cooks the contents of the pans. Cheese is the most important ingredient, because it melts and browns wonderfully under there. Yum! Hannah had fun grilling the various pre-chopped foods and even ate some grilled veggies.

After the food and the conversation and the midnight toast, we went down to the street and shot off some fireworks. New Year's is the only time the plebes are allowed to use fireworks, so everyone and his dog were out there. At one point, it was so smokey that we couldn't even see one of the bottle rockets we had just sent up. It had snowed while we were eating, so there was a lovely layer of ice on everything. Despite my (inner) fear that someone would slip and crack her head open on the sidewalk or have an eye shot out, the fireworks were a real hit. The only damper on the night o' fun was when I stepped into a giant fresh pile of dog-doo on the way home. I hate dogs.

I just remembered something I haven't told John yet, and I know he is going to be crushed. If you happen to hear a faint cry of "Whyyyy?!!" from the other side of the Atlantic, you'll know that I have informed John that our grocery store no longer carries Charmin. Not even non-winter scented white.

I missed John and his sweet ways while he was in Chicago. He's in the kitchen right now, murmurring to the cats while he feeds them their favorite wet cat food.

Junk Galore

John made it back from Chicago, none the worse for wear. I think he had a good time, but he wasn't able to meet up with as many people as he had originally hoped to, so he was a little lonely. That didn't stop him from eating at the same Mexican restaurant for four lunches in a row, though. *g*

He always brings us something back when he travels, and Hannah makes it a little easier to pick something for her because she always makes a list of American junk food she wants. For me, America is the land of the free and the home of the brave, but for Hannah it is the home of the Frito-Lay company and the land of MSG, as evidenced by the fruits of John's shopping labors.



We also got shirts, so his efforts won't have completely disappeared into a pile of empty wrappers and crumbs within a couple of days.

A girl I'm sort of friends with in the German department (it's complicated) gave me a music-mix CD a couple of Christmases ago, but I thought it was xmas music, and I didn't actually listen to it right away. While digging around for the software from our internet provider to load onto my new laptop, I found the CD and decided to give it a spin. She picked some really good music! And not xmas music, although I would have liked that, too. So I think I might load it onto my laptop for my listening enjoyment while working.

I really like my new laptop, but the keyboard action on it is stiffer than on John's laptop, so it is taking some getting used to, especially the buttons below the touchpad. My poor thumb is still sore from sewing button-holes into Hannah's pants (the zipper broke), so that might be part of my typing problem.

On Friday I took Hannah and her friend to see Alvin and the Chipmunks. *shudder* I got a little nostalgic when they sang their xmas song the first time, because it used to come on the radio when I was a little kid, but otherwise I concentrated on trying to crochet in the gloom. And then about 3/4 of the way through the movie, Hannah's friend started saying, "My tooth! My tooth!" I took her out in the lobby, and sure enough, her tooth had gotten knocked loose by a piece of popcorn. Hannah's lost baby teeth while eating ice cream and a hamburger (never did find that one), so it wasn't totally surprising, but she said it really hurt, so I ended up leaving the movie early to take her to meet her mom (thank the dwarfs for small favors). I met back up with Hannah afterwards and we went to Pizza Hut as planned. But I had to stop at the yarn store to buy this first:



John asked me what I wanted for xmas, and I told him that book, and this apron:



He always suspects that I'm throwing him wishlist items underhand to make it easier and cheaper for him*, but always tell him what I would like but wouldn't buy for myself. Which is funny, because even though they are often small items, I really get a kick out of having them.

I totally should have bought this one while we were in Scotland:



So if he's not going to do it, I'll just pick them up myself the next time I see them.

* His stepmom always used to ask for refrigerator magnets when asked what she wanted for xmas.

We're going to spend New Year's Eve with another family, so I guess I'll spend the meanwhile finishing some straightening up I started this morning before I had to go pick John up from the train station. I can never manage to get every part of my house clean at the same time, but at least over the 2 week school break each part will have been clean at least once.

Musical Hannah

We received a really cute e-card from a dear relation for xmas, and after we had viewed it Hannah was humming the music from the card for a while. Then I realized that she had switched to "My Country Tis of Thee."

Where in the world had she learned that?

Turns out, she was humming the anthem* for the Royal Canadian Kilted Yaksmen from Ren and Stimpy.



That's my girl.

* (crammed into the tune of "My Country Tis of Thee")
Our country reeks of trees,
Our yaks are really large.
And they smell like rotting beef carcasses.
And we have to clean up after them
And our saddle sores are the best.
We proudly wear women's clothing
And searing sand blows up our skirts.
And our buzzards, they soar overhead
And poisonous snakes will devour us whole,
Our bones will bleach in the sun.
And we will probably go to hell.
And that is our great reward
For being the Royal Canadian Kilted Yaksmen.

On the Road Again

John made it to Chicago, but I haven’t gotten the full travel report yet because I didn’t get to the phone last night before voice mail picked up, and John’s call had gotten cut off when I checked the voice mail. Oi! The joys of modern technology. At least I was able to check on the status of his flight online and see that they didn’t crash. I will assume that there weren’t any problems with his hotel reservations and will try to call him there later today.

If you read this before 3 pm Central Time, remember to send a blast of good thoughts toward Chicago then. That’s when he is supposed to have his interview.

I had warned Hannah that we’d have to get up at 4:30 to drive her dad to the airport (for an 8 am flight), and I think that got her keyed up, because she hardly slept that night. It was after 10 when we sent her to bed, and then we stayed up until 11-ish to get John packed. She got up at 1 to pee, and she couldn’t get back to sleep. I’ve been a light sleeper since she was born, and every time she went in or out of her room in the wee hours, I heard the door close. *snick* *snick* *snicksnicksnicksnick* She told us the next morning that she spent the time getting dressed and watching infomercials on tv.

We got to the airport right at 2 hours before the flight, but we were at the wrong terminal. Whoops! It seems that no matter where I find a spot in the parking garage, we end up in BFE relative to the gate we need. Anyhoo, we found the right terminal, got John a place in line, and then Hannah and I braved the bowels of the Frankfurt airport to find McDonald’s and some breakfast for all of us. It is scary down there, all low ceilings and duct-work. Hannah has avowed—even before the visit to Fraport (what an asinine marketing ploy)—that she will never work in an airport restaurant, never never never.

Hannah ordered a Happy Meal—yes, she wanted a hamburger at 7 am. She has an amazing memory, especially where junk food is concerned, and she had recalled that I didn’t let her order a Happy Meal at the airport when we took her grandparents there in 2005(!) because it was breakfast time and I didn’t think they’d serve hamburgers that early, but then *12* kids walked past her with Happy Meals and weren’t they the luckiest kids in the whole world?! (It doesn’t sound quite so melodramatic until I write it down, somehow.)

After the coffee and breakfast food, I was awake enough to drive us home, but even in her sleep-deprived state, Hannah didn’t fall asleep until we were 30-minutes from home, and then she only slept for 20 minutes. I thought we’d both crash after that, but I couldn’t fall asleep; I ended up resting my poor little eyes for about 5 minutes and then re-reading part of Wee Free Men (grade-A Terry Pratchett—I’ll be re-reading it many times).

After a long and well-deserved night’s sleep, we’re going to try to go to the movies later today. Hannah wants to see Alvin and the Chipmunks. Please pray for me.

Ps. John had been hoping for a white Christmas, but he had to be satisfied with a hard frost. It started to snow a couple of hours after we dropped him off at the airport. Oh, well, there's probably plenty of snow in Chicago for him to enjoy.

Brrrrr!

It is cold cold cold here. When I went to the store this morning shortly after eight to buy a couple of puffy down comforters (thanks, LMIL!), the car thermometer said -3.5C (25.7F) and the thermometer on the jewelry store said -5C (23F). Either way—brrrr! And since our study is very poorly insulated, we have to cut short our computer use when we can no longer feel our shins. So if I break off in mid-blog, you’ll know I can’t feel the bottom third of my body.

Remember how I mentioned all the work that just falls into our laps? I think I know how Tom Jones must now feel about panties—stop throwing so many at me! I was considering taking on another English-tutoring job, but it would have been too much, and I didn’t really feel qualified to teach business English. But then John told me that some of the students I had taught in his department a couple of semesters ago (wooo! nepotism!) were asking if I am planning to teach there again, because they really enjoyed my class. Yay! I wasn’t a total loser teacher!

In the mornings, I climb up on Hannah’s bed at the foot and put my legs under her covers as step one in the wake-up ritual. Also, it is cold in her room. Then I proceed to tickle her until she kicks and flops and generally wakes herself up with all her attempts to dislodge me from her bed. But this morning, she had the bright idea to use her pincers of doom, aka the toes she inherited from her dad and gwamma. John’s mom can raise a knot on a person with her lobster-claw toes, and Hannah is following in her glorious footsteps (ha ha!). Of course, we have watched Little Shop of Horrors a couple of times recently, so Hannah’s toe-pinching made me start singing, “She’ll be a den-tist! She has a knack for causing things pain!”

Hannah got some kind of gumball (of the tree-fruit variety, not chewing gum) stuck in her hair at school, so rather than asking a friend to help her untangle it, she just chopped it out with scissors. Now she has a bang-length section at the back of her head, but she refuses to let me take her to a barber, because she might actually get a *hair style*. The horror!

One evening, I had gone in to Hannah’s room to turn off her overhead light, and she started talking about how she had just noticed my freakishly large forehead. And of course, such a large forehead is a sure sign that I am a nerd. I had never heard that large forehead = nerd (and how nerdy is that, that I make a mathematical equation out of it), but maybe she has secretly been taking a distance education course in phrenology. Anyhoo, I pointed out that she looks just. like. me. And therefore she has a one-way ticket to Nerdsville. Her Nerdland passport was issued at birth. She is a native speaker of Nerdish. Ha!

I think that except for a couple of stocking stuffers, I have completed my xmas shopping. My amazon order from the UK won’t be here in time, but at least I made my choices. Hannah refuses to actually buy anything for us or her friends or anyone we ask her about, even if we offer to pay. She is getting to be quite a tight-wad, but I guess that is better than the alternative.

The glacier is creeping up over my ankles... must. stop. writing.

Rockin' around the xmas tree

I’ve been in a bit of a weird mood lately. I don’t know if it’s due to hormones (quite possible), weather (clear but freezing), holidays (barreling down upon us), or a mosh pit combination of all three, but obviously, my situation hasn’t been very conducive to blogging. Which is funny, because I’ve gotten into the habit of mentally narrating my life as if I’m concurrently blogging it. Sounds like a tv drama for teenagers. Unfortunately, all my brilliant narration is gone as soon as it’s thought; I am Twitter in meat form.

It has been slow going, getting into the xmas spirit. Decorations have been up in town since forever, but somehow, I’ve never gone into a shop in America in December and thought, “It must be Christmas-time, because they’re playing Wham.” Now I have “Last Christmas” as an ear-worm. Anyhoo, my favorite window display is over at Hell’s Kitchen: trees decorated with silver nets and silver lobsters (or perhaps giant crawdads—I don’t know crustaceans).

Here at home, John has been crazy busy all semester, thanks to a new colleague who is learning the ropes and the former colleague who left behind a big gaping hole where there used to be a curriculum. With the pile of grading that has been teetering over his head, he has been loathe to take time out for things like buying a tree and presents, because the pile might just topple over and smother him. But he finally broke down last Saturday and bought a tree. Hannah and I tried to put it up and decorate it, but it was unstable and John was picky about which side was the best, so next year he gets to do it all himself (see bad mood, above).

Hannah contributed to the decorations with the fruits of her art class (she got an A!):



This guy is now on top of our tree.

Then we went to Bad Wimpfen on Sunday (planned several weeks ago, so John couldn’t get out of it with such a feeble excuse as *work*) to their xmas market.



Don’t we look cute? That hat really itches, though. John bought it for me in Lappland during the year we lived in Sweden, and it is warm but itchy. I was scratching so hard by the end of the afternoon that people probably thought I had dandruff or lice or head-beavers.

But enyweys (as my Grammy would say), I am too lazy to put up more pictures, so you’ll just have to click on my Flickr link on the right to get the full array of xmas market and home decor photos (and a few self-portraits of Hannah that look very disturbing).

Note on the bus: The cold really brings out the ugly in people’s wardrobes. This woman is wearing a patchwork coat out of what appears to be the skins of several mangy hyenas. I know I’m not exactly a candidate for the cover of Vogue, but at least I don’t look like I rolled in something I found rotting on the savannah.

Weirdly enough, I saw another similar coat, but furry-ier, in town later.

Hannah still likes us enough that she tries to get brownie points by say outrageous stuff to entertain us. We were in the store, picking out xmas napkins, and she was helping me sort through the box. “What about that one over there?” *pulls it out* “Not tacky enough.” That’s my girl!

My crazy ranting was quite hilarious in my head yesterday, but now it is all gone. You should be glad. Poor John had to turn the other cheek while I tried to make a funny, but instead was an asshole and insulted him. I will have to make that up to him before his trip next week. Don’t forget to cross your various extremities for him and his interview!

Coming Up for Air

So let's see... I survived giving my presentation in German last week, but it was a close thing. I was so nervous that I think I might have burned out a fuse (specifically, the German-processing fuse) in my brain. I have totally mangled everything I've tried to say in German since last Thursday, and I would like to move under a rock now, thanks.

On Saturday we went to the mall to go grocery shopping, buy flowers, and hit the video store. We bought *8* DVDs, all but one of them American films. I told John and Hannah that I had been planning to do that as a family gift for xmas, so they'd just have to keep that in mind xmas morning. While we were there, we spotted a cluster of people dressed as Star Wars characters. I recognized Boba Fett, an Imperial guard, Darth Vader, a Storm Trooper... there were probably 8 or 9 people total. Hannah was disturbed to see them without their helmets later, rocking to the classic rock (Zepplin?) being piped in to the store. Geek on, brothers! When we left the store, we noticed someone was playing the Star Wars theme on a piano in the mall but couldn't spot where it was coming from. Star Wars as cool jazz--weird!

On Sunday, we went to the Lucia event for the Swedish club. We didn't take the camera this time, so I didn't get any shots of the Lucia coughing through her recitation, nor of one of the little xmas elves hiccoughing loudly whenever there was a lull in the singing, nor of John playing the Swedish Santa Claus. Hannah had been allowed to pick the paper towels at the grocery store the day before, so of course she picked the multi-pack that included a toy, so of course Pebbles Flintstone had to accompany us to the party and have her own seat on the bus. Alas, no photo again. Drat my shortsightedness! Hannah's dearest wish came true and we did *not* win any caviar in the door prize drawing, but John's dearest wish also came true and we *did* win a straw goat.



In addition to playing Santa, John was the announcer for the drawing. The straw goat was the very last item up for grabs, and John built up the suspense by saying how much he had always wanted one and how he really should break down and go to IKEA and get one, which the winner of said goat would thankfully be spared. And then the little girl drawing the numbers handed him Hannah's number. Crazy, eh?

John was there all day helping, but all I had done up to that point was bake three cakes to go with the coffee that was served, so I made it a point to help with straightening up afterwards. The tables and chairs all had to be cleared off and stacked away, and I commandeered a dolly to put the stacked chairs away. I had to lean the chairs back pretty far to keep them balanced, so they were riding against my shoulder as I pushed them into place. By the end of the night, I had a bruise on the top of each shoulder.



(And no, my clavicle doesn't normally stick out like that—it's just the angle of my arm holding the camera that's making it do that.)

Hannah lost her wallet on the bus on Tuesday, and she has been crying about it ever since. She only had about 2 bucks in there, but her bus pass and her library card were in there, too. I don't think either will be difficult to replace, but I know how she feels about losing things. If it happens to me, it preys on my mind until I find myself tearing apart the house or retracing my steps for days on end. I've called the bus company about 10 times since then, but it hasn't turned up yet.

After the wallet incident on Tuesday, Hannah's cold ramped up and she ended up staying home sick on Wednesday. It's her shortest day (7:45-12:20), so she didn't miss too much, and there wasn't any homework, so I guess if she had to miss, Wednesday was the day to do it. I plopped her in a hot tub and fed her chicken soup, and that seemed to help with the cold symptoms. And since I was home with her instead of going to class, I was able to get a big chunk of my xmas shopping done online while she slept in/lounged around. I finished shopping for our adult siblings and their children (=6 adults and 9 children), which feels like a huge accomplishment. I already know what the grandmothers are getting and just have to order the stuff, but I am still brainstorming on the parents and assorted teenagers. Any big hints would be appreciated.

My brain has turned into a giant sieve. I hate hate hate finding out that I totally spaced on doing something (like buying Hannah an atlas for school), when it should have been poking me in the brain all along. When all the important stuff has leaked out, what's left behind is roughly equivalent to insulation, and processing information becomes a big trial. Perfect for a student!

Everyone keep your fingers crossed: John has a job interview coming up after xmas. I don't want to go into too much detail here, but please keep him in your thoughts/prayers/voodoo rituals.

I'm sure much more has been going on—it's been 10 days since my last post—but see „sieve brain“ above.

Xmas is barreling down upon me

The xmas prep has started!


The advent calendars were stood on the wood oven with care:


But a little mouse has already been at the gingerbread house:


Hannah had to go to bed the other night before the "Unfabulous" movie was over, so I thoughtfully stayed up and recorded the last 30 minutes. Hannah was just finishing her book when it was over, so I thoughtfully went in and told her how it ended (smooching!). "Thanks for telling me the juiciness!" My sarcasm detector was impaired that night, but I caught on the next morning.

It has taken Hannah a few tries to figure out how to use "BM" properly in conversation. Tonight at dinner, a little air bubble escaped her. I asked what was up, and she answered, "BM?" Not unless you've just filled up your pants, kid. "BG, then? For Big Gas." All right then.

John is always highly amused at my comments while I'm editing: "Serial commas are eating my lunch." Well, they were!

In an effort to get on top of my perilously teetering to-do pile, I'm foreswearing the Internet on all weekdays between now and xmas. I'm hoping to get the bulk of my xmas ordering done this weekend, but John is just as swamped as I am, so it may take the two of us a little longer this year to agree on our purchases. It doesn't mean we don't love you if your gift is late.

Anyhoo, the point is that if you desperately need to reach me, cc John on email or just call.

Sayonara for now!

Turkey Day Report

We had a belated Thanksgiving dinner on Saturday, just the 3 of us. John wanted to be more social, but it just didn't work out with our 2 invitees. Actually, it was much better that way for me. We weren't trying to clean and cook and beat the clock for the arrival of guests. Hell, we didn't even change out of our jammies that day. :-) John kept making little comments about how "most people" have Thanksgiving lunch, but I pointed out he was free to get up at 5 am to start the turkey so we could have everything done by noon, and he stopped bringing it up, eventually.

I made a turkey, my grandma's stuffing, baked sweet potatoes (1), giblet gravy, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, and rolls, and a pumpkin cheesecake. It was less than I would have made if we'd had guests, but still more than 3 people could possibly eat. Fortunately, it's now cold enough that I can store the cheesecake in the natural fridge, i.e., on our balcony. I was so un-rushed with the cooking that I could chop veggies to freeze; after dinner, John added some of the leftover turkey, and today we're going to have turkey soup with the pre-chopped ingredients.

(1) I couldn't find any mashing potatoes (2), and John won't eat instant mashed potatoes, but I did find sweet potatoes instead, so I baked them.

(2) I didn't know when we first moved here that there are different types of potatoes for different cooking purposes, and my first attempt at mashed potatoes (with the "wrong" potatoes) turned out like glop.



Hannah didn't say what she was thankful for, but I was thankful for tv. Yes, I will come right out and say it--I like tv. Also, this Thanksgiving cactus. Wooooo!



Hannah had a headache last night and this morning, so a pre-made dinner is just what the doctor ordered for a mom that was home with her most of the day. She doesn't look sick, per say, but she is quiet enough that I can tell she still doesn't feel 100% yet. At least her cough is getting better. And no thanks to the doctor. He said to bring her back if she was still coughing after 4 weeks. At 3 weeks, I realized she wasn't stopping. I googled around and found where an American doctor had had success curing this type of cough with hypnosis. I didn't think our doctor would go along with that, since he doesn't even think it's a tic, but I thought the Am. doctor was on to something. So I figured that rather than training her through hypnosis, I'd try training her through bribery. I offered her five bucks if she went one whole day without coughing, and the amount she was coughing dropped immediately. If she concentrates on not coughing, or concentrates on something else, she doesn't cough. She still doesn't have the 5 bucks yet, but she's on her way.

We're up to our third snowfall as of today. It didn't stick, of course, but it was really coming down during the 3 or 4 times it snowed. I was glad to be home with the wood stove instead of running around in it in town.

I'm a Little Teapot, at least for today

More weird dreams, this time about incomplete coursework. I dreamed that I thought I had finished everything for a course, but when I got my grades, I had neglected to do half the projects assigned, and I hadn't even realized it. (Once, a girl in my class sat down to take a final and realized she had never turned in a paper for a class she had taken 2 semesters before. What a way to start a test!)

Usually my freak-out dreams are about being at band contest, but I can't find all the parts to my uniform, and I don't know the drill or the music, and I am a last-minute replacement for someone. I have that one a lot. I haven't been in a marching band since 1993, but you can't take the band (John would say the nerd) out of the girl.

I really want to walk to Rivendell, but I haven't been good about remembering to put on my pedometer each day. I'm not walking for exercise, like another Rivendell-er, but just getting from place to place in my daily routine. I walked over a mile on Monday, and that was just going to tutoring and meeting my friend for lunch. Maybe I'll try it again if I ever take up exercise (not bloody well likely).

In the German department, we're required to take a course in preparation for writing the master's thesis and taking our exams. The only class requirement is to give a presentation on our topic and the progress we are making. Judging by the first two presentations, it is a totally painful process. The professor's objections and comments were totally spot-on, but she is so brusque that I think I would rather be eaten slowly by a tiger than have her dissect my work. Fortunately, the class is over-full due to some scheduling problems this semester, so I am off the hook for presenting. BUT, this is the professor who still has one of my (late) papers moldering under a pile in her office, so I will eventually get to experience her brand of critique. *cringe*

Someone made a Christmas tree out of Mountain Dew cans, but the end result is actually very cool. (Thanks to Gael at Pop Culture Junk Mail for the link.)

Hannah has been bemoaning her lack of Ken dolls for a while now, so she finally took matters into her own hands. Her least favorite Barbies have had their hair chopped off and their pink lips covered with white nail polish to become transgendered dolls. Maybe she should call them Chris.

Nee, Queen of the Inappropriate

As a child, I had a bit of a chronic lying problem. Just a bit. I outgrew it, but then I discovered a new kick--saying the unexpected. I've spent a large part of my life looking like a 13-year-old kid, so I make sure to offset that by talking like a sailor.

The first time I met this person, Bill, in John's extended family, he asked me about my hometown. "What's there to do in [Hometown]?" That was my cue. "Not much but have sex." (1) People still talk about the night I met Bill.

Technically, I am telling the truth, but as Emily Dickinson said, "Tell the truth but tell it slant." I tell it in a way that exponentially increases the shock value. I can only manage this in English, so my poor family has to bear the brunt of my odd statements.

After dinner last night, Hannah had wandered off to play on the computer, and John was smiling at me across the table. I was resting after eating all that dip (see next entry) with my cheek on my hand. "You look so pretty," John told me. That was my cue. "I'm tired. And my ass burns."

(1) Since our county had the second-highest teen pregnancy rate in the state at the time, it had to be one of the top activities.

Hannah, Spice Girl

Hannah has been honing her cooking skills on the whetstone of my spice cabinet. She and her friend started with "spice soup" back in the day. Fortunately, they were satisfied at first with making very small quantities. One day they got a bit carried away, but with the help of a couple of eggs and some flour, we were able to transform the watery mess into some savoury crepes that even Hannah would eat.

It occurred to me that if I could rope Hannah into using her skillz for good instead of evil, she might be more likely to eat something resembling food. So last night she whipped up some dip, which her dad and I enjoyed with some raw veggies.



Hannah declared that she only likes making stuff for *us* to eat, but she deigned to eat 1/2 of a slice of cucumber with dip on it. Now I'm worried that her body will go into shock from that blast of vitamins.

Stew-Pot Post

In no particular order:

I suck at shopping. I don't like it, and I'm not good at it. We needed new sheets (due to my last shopping disaster), so I went to a place where I had previously gotten the wished-for sheets (before the cats sliced a hole in them). After diligently looking for 15 minutes, I found the right kind (not the t-shirt material, but linen) and bought them. When I got home, I found they were for larger matresses than ours. John is so sweet, he just tucked them in tighter and said "don't worry about it!"

Something similar happened at the hardware store. It took 2 trips, and I still don't have the right-sized screwdriver for my project.

And it almost broke my heart at the grocery store to pay over 20 bucks for 2 bottles of shampoo and a package of razor blades. I am not meant to shop; I should live in a cave and be a hunter and/or gatherer, although I'd probably screw that up, too, and starve to death.

You can tell when you're (too heavily?) invested in someone else's blog when you dream she's invited you to her sleepover *even though you've only ever commented twice* and you're all fangirl *squeeee!* about it.

I was tired and lazy Monday evening, so I bought a roasted chicken and fries on the way out of the grocery store. I heard Hannah humming in satisfaction in the back seat of the car on the way home and asked if she was eating the fries. "Noooo." Are you warming your hands on our dinner? "Mayyyy-be." What do you mean by that? "Jeez, Mom. Don't you get it? Hel-lo!" Oh--hel-lo! Why didn't you say so in the first place?

Flowers, Glorious Flowers!

If you do not weep with joy at the sight of these Thanksgiving cactus blooms, your heart is made of cold, black ice.

Talkin' about the weather

John likes to give me a hard time because I have spent so much time talking about the weather; he says I'm all elderly. But I don't like to be cold or wet, and we are smack in the middle of cold, wet season, so there is a lot to talk about, i.e. complain about.

Check this out: 11 days ago, this was the view from the front of our house:



Nice, eh? I failed to get a photo of the tree-line up above this, but it was equally spectacular.

Then 4 days ago we got enough fine-grained hail, as evidenced by the residue on this car next door, that Hannah thought we'd had our first snow:



She had to wait 4 days until today to have her wish come true:



It is not quite cold enough to stick, but we've had occasional flurries all day, mixed with cold rain. Ick! So in 11 days, we've experienced the height of fall and the onslaught of winter. I need to get more sweaters!

Switched at Birth?

No one who has actually seen Hannah and me together would ever doubt that she's my child.



See?

But sometimes I wonder if there was some kind of switcheroo in the hospital nursery. To wit:

The child does not like gummy bears. Or cheese. Or pants. (I don't hold it against her for not liking licorice--not many people do.)

She (still) loves pink and sparkles, although not necessarily in the form of her own clothing anymore.

Given the choice, she only reads books about witches and ghosts. Of course, our library only has 2 basic options for her age group: ponies or witches/ghosts/vampires.

In short, she's definitely mine, but not my clone: she's her own person.

It still makes me sad, though, that she doesn't want to read the Little House on the Prairie series, or many of the other books I liked as a kid.

Blah to the nth

I have got to be the most boring person on the Internet. John and I spend a lot of time laughing and entertaining ourselves, but it just doesn't seem to translate to the blog page for some reason.

The highlights of the last week:
I told my class: "Don't ever depend on technology, because it will just crap all over you." This after the USB-stick cock-up, even though I had *a whole hour* to try to sort it out. I wonder if this little baby would be the answer to all my dreams (and it's Star Wars--win!). Only I can't decide between R2D2 and Darth Vader. (DV is out of stock. *pout*) Or maybe the Swiss Army Knife version? Oh, the possibilities!

Hannah had a friend come over, and the cats managed to escape into the stairwell. Missy is an old pro and meowed at the door when she wanted back in. When the friend left, I found Eliza frozen in abject terror two floors down. I had to peel her paws away from the edge of the stairs and carry her back up to the apartment. This is a cat that barely allows her favorite human in the world, John, to pick her up for a quick cuddle.

My Thanksgiving cacti are positively laden with blooms. I am waiting until the majority of them open before posting a photo, but it is gonna be good!

Now I must get back to the grind, etc.