Got To Be Tha Sure-Shot

So far, I suck at being a teacher. I've got the assistant part down fine, but when it comes time to step up to the plate everyone can see that I'm still the bat boy. Even my lesson last week on Halloween, the coolest holiday since Whacking Day, felt kind of off. I also had trouble keeping a conversation about Irish immigrants going. I tried to engage in a historically accurate role playing activity, but the kids really couldn't hold their alcohol.

And today the 7th graders started to learn about about sports in their English class. Since all they learn is British English, all they're gonna know is cricket and tea-drinking. Well, not if I have anything to say about it. So I took it upon myself to introduce them to America's pastime, and I don't mean deep-frying.

Proudly sporting my Red Sox -- Youkilis t-shirt and equipped with a homemade fill-in-the-blanks worksheet, I entered the fray. I boldly attempted to explain the rules of this complex sport, lobbing terms at them and sketching shapes on the board. All this while trying not to rely on the one kid in the class who lived in America for like the past 5 years -- of course he's gonna raise his hand, so it's up to me to shamelessly ignore his flailing appendage.

After covering the intricacies of the pitcher-catcher-batter love triangle (the pitcher pitches to the catcher, who catches, while the batter tries to bat using his bat), I finally unleashed them upon the worksheet. And following my teacher's shrewd advice, I made the American-versed whizkid come up with the German translations of the key words while he waited for the others to finish. That's no intentional walk; that's hit by piatch, biatch.

After that it was just a matter of cleaning up -- I had the kids read through the sentences with the answers in place, and then they got to hear and write down the German translations from that kid. The bell rang, and ya know, I feel like I finally hit one out of the park. Of the lessons I've prepared on my own, this is the first one that seemed to go smoothly. In your face, Yankees. Tune in next time, when I dare to demonstrate: if things go well with props and pics, maybe I can farm this class and produce the next Jacoby Ellsbury. Plus I'm gonna introduce them to American football, courtesy of an arm-bar to the face followed by a pelvis-intensive victory dance.

I'm goin' to Disney World!

Live and Let Liver

The Halloween party on Wednesday was fun -- I stayed out until past 5 AM and then magically found my way home. I honestly had no idea where I was, so I picked a direction and walked until I saw something I recognized, which fortunately happened quickly and turned out to be about as close to home as I could have hoped. I guess my drunk GPS kicked in. It still took me half an hour, but I'm used to those walks by now. If I hadn't guessed correctly which direction to walk, I could have ended up in France, where French punks might have beaten me with a baguette. Or worse: there's a little "French" bakery chain in Germany called Cro-bag. I think it's supposed to be a mix of croissant and baguette, but it makes me think of cro-mags, ho-bags, and crowbars, all at the same time, none of which I'd want to eat or get attacked by.

Thursday I played some sports with a bunch of the teachers. We played soccer, which was cool since we used Indoor Soccer rules, and I wasn't the worst one there, which is surprising since this is Europe after all. But then we played basketball, and of course I jammed my finger at one point, and it's only now starting to hurt less. Basketball sucks. I had to skip out on volleyball afterwards, which is probably okay since I was completely spent at that point anyway.

On Friday the students had a 4 day weekend, so the teachers spent the morning in different seminars followed by a trip to Frankfurt for the rest of the day. I wouldn't normally want to be in school on a Friday, especially not at 8:30 AM, but I was in the Cooperative Games seminar so we just got to play a bunch of different team-building games and talk about how they could be used in the classroom.

Frankfurt was interesting -- I went on a tour of the Goethe House, most of which I didn't understand but that's okay. After a shopping trip which confirmed that, yes, German women are also from Venus, we all had dinner at a cool, typical Frankfurt restaurant. I mean, this place really prided itself on being typical Frankfurt. So of course I tried what someone told me was typical Frankfurt food: Leberknoedeln. This is what the side-splittingly hilarious pun in the title of this post refers to, because Leberknoedeln are some kind of dumplings made out of liver. Sounds gross, and if you don't like liver or liverwurst or anything, then it would indeed be gross. I actually enjoyed it, especially with the generous portions of mashed potatoes and sauerkraut involved. Together with some Apfelwein (apple wine) and half a schnitzel from another teacher who couldn't finish hers, I really distended my stomach with typical Frankfurt food that evening.

Gotta be Lomo

So I've been teaching the kids at school a bit about Halloween. It's no good without pictures and demonstrations and stuff though -- you can't just explain it, you have to get them in the spirit of things. Unfortunately there isn't a huge spirit of Halloween here, so I guess I'll have to wait until Carnival season. Carnival sounds like a sweet mix of Mardi Gras and Halloween, so when that takes place I can point to specifics and say: "THAT is what I'm talking about. Dress up like an idiot and run around town!" I did mention that one of the "tricks" people pull is egging houses, which they seemed surprised at. I hope I didn't just plant the seed of revolution. But they told me that on a slightly similar holiday in Germany, they do stuff like put toothpaste on car handles and such -- that kinda sucks too. I blame the plaque industry, trying to give toothpaste a bad name.

I went on a bar tour or pub crawl with some people involved in the University of Mainz Campus Radio program tonight. It was actually less of a crawl and more of a standstill, since we only saw two bars and only sat and drank at one of those, but that's still two new places I got to mentally note for further visitation. Eventually I'll find others. The first place I had seen and would have bet my life that it wasn't fun. Why? You already saw why if you read the title of this post: it's called LOMO. How can a bar called LOMO be anything but terrible? But against all odds, it actually looked pretty nice, and I saw they have a breakfast buffet from 10-2 every day for less than 5 Euros. Obviously I'll be back to try that out soon. My one weakness is that I have many weaknesses, including a fondness for buffets.

Anyway, Lomo was full (yup, apparently other people got past the name too), so we went to a bar called Quadrait Mayence or something similarly pretentious. Yet another bar I would have never found, let alone entered, considering its proximity to the police station -- getting drunk at a bar directly behind the local law enforcement building seems like an unnecessary risk. But this was also a cool place with better-than-normal prices, so I'm sure I'll be back.

Anyway, gotta get my beauty sleep in preparation for a costume-less Halloween tomorrow. Since I can't wear a mask I gotta try to keep my own face presentable. I know, I know...very disappointing -- I've never had a costume-less Halloween I don't think. But even without costumes this party should be awesome, so I guess I'll try it the German way for once. At least their way involves a holiday on November 1, something which America is lacking. Can somebody do something amazing on Thursday so in the future it will be a national holiday and we can sleep in the day after Halloween? Go big then go home.

Lesson Planning

What are you doing for Halloween? I've been preparing one of my first real attempts at a lesson plan, focusing on this wonderful holiday, of course. It'll be for a 6th, a 7th, and four 8th grade classes, so I figured a Word Search would be an appropriate exercise. I dunno, is there a minimum (or a maximum) age requirement for a Word Search? They're not that hard, which may be why I always enjoyed them and probably still do. Thankfully there are websites that also make it not that hard to create a word search these days. I used a site called Discovery School's Puzzlemaker for this one. The words involved are a bunch of typical Halloween costumes, such as "vampire," "pirate," and "doctor." I thought it was odd that I came up with doctor since almost all of the rest are "scary" costumes of some sort, but then I remembered that doctors are also pretty scary. I certainly wouldn't want to BE one in real life.

Germans have a vague idea of Halloween, and people do have some parties, but in general it's nothing like in America. While figuring out what traditions to describe, I wasn't sure how much time I should spend elaborating on the "trick" portion of trick or treating. If I inform them of Halloween tricks, will I be ensuring that they engage in such heinous acts? Is it better if kids not know these tricks exist at all until after marriage, just like with sex? Throwing eggs at houses and having sex are quite similar, after all: they're sloppy, soggy, hateful activities, after which somebody ends quietly sobbing into a pillow, right? Hm, maybe my sex education wasn't so great after all.

I decided to talk about it anyway. I hope the government doesn't pull my funding over this.

By the way, in case it was missed, I'm joking about the crappy abstinence-only "sex education" that the US government believes is the best thing for school kids. "Hope is not a strategy," to paraphrase a paraphrasing I recently saw.

Don't you forget about me

It's been a while, hasn't it? Yeah, I missed you too, give us a hug. Okay, you can let go now...awkward.

What to tell, what to tell? I'll start off recent, don't want to get too ambitious or I might scare myself away from this thing again. Gotta ease my way back in. Be gentle. Sam came to visit this weekend. I must say we had a good time, but Friday was tops. We had a fantastic lunch buffet at the Eisgrub (it means "ice cavern, basically) -- a place where they not only brew their own delicious beer, but also have some of the cheapest buffets I've ever seen -- and right after that we had an even better wine buffet.

There was a "Wine Forum," whatever that means, for the Rheinhessen region, so for five and a half hours we tried our best to work our way through over 150 types of wine. I mean, we gave it the ol' college try...which meant that instead of swishing a little sip around in our mouths and then spitting out the rest and dumping half a glass of perfectly good wine in a big bucket, we swallowed each large gulp we took. There was no way we were getting through 150 types of wine, but I still felt like I accomplished a lot. Namely, I got my money's worth and didn't throw up. Seriously, when everyone else around you is spitting wine into giant communal buckets, it is not a relaxing atmosphere. We soldiered on, though, and had a delicious time.

Did you eat some peanut butter today? I did, for the first time in a couple of months. They don't have good peanut butter in Germany. Brittany and I found a connection to the military PX in Wiesbaden, so she brought me a jar of Jif yesterday, and it is glorious. I recommend you spread some on an oreo or some other treat right now, just because you can.

I just set my clocks back for European Daylight Saving Time, but I'm not fooled: I know it's not that early, and I am tired! Thus, bed.

Go Sox.

And Pats.

And go, Gadget Blog Post.

Argh.

I was about to post the start of an ambitious new project when my computer decided to teach me a lesson in saving frequently. As I finished up my long post, my computer shut off on me, and I lost it all. *@%^$#*&^(! Only the following sequence of characters can effectively convey my feelings regarding this egregious offense: *@%^$#*&^(!. I will try to begin anew either this evening or tomorrow. Good day.

Puff

Sitting or lying out in the sun after a hard day's work (or, in my case, an easy half-day's work), sipping a beer, and puffing on a cigar: quite enjoyable. Jeff and I have started enjoying this timeless hobby every now and then, so here's a quick cigar breakdown based on recent experience:

Captain Black (Peach Rum flavored) - I hope you didn't expect to hear anything bad about a pirate-themed brand, because you won't. Three dollars for a pack of 20 little cigars, and they're surprisingly delicious. Of course, they're really kind of girly cigars--they're more like cigarettes and they're strongly flavored. But whatever; they're cheap, they won't bore you or destroy your tastebuds with an unending supply of tobacco, they're tasty, and they're Captain Black. Yarrgh, matey!

Black and Mild - Not doin' it for me. Even the mild versions seem to be rolled with no other intent than to make a drunk person sick(er). Especially if that person is Jeff Silvan. They've got that special plastic tip, but who cares? When I tried to open mine the other night, the tip got caught in the plastic and ripped off anyway. When I tried to smoke what was left without that crazy tip, bits of stuff kept breaking off into my mouth, which is clearly not cool. If I wanted to chew my tobacco, I'd buy some chew. Plus, these suckers cost a heck of a lot more than Captain Black, and that ain't right. I can't in good conscience recommend this brand to human beings.

Phillies Blunts - Surprisingly good. I gotta say, the Honey flavored ones smell like sweet, sweet honey, straight from the bee's bottom. If you're not crazy about honey, maybe these aren't for you, but then again, if you aren't crazy about honey, you're probably some kind of cold, heartless monster. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I haven't actually partaken of any honey flavored ones yet, but I intend to at some point. A few of us smoked the Original flavor last night though, and those were good stuffs. Deegs even left me the last one in the package; bangarang! Not too expensive, so I'd say a good deal. These cigars are fairly large, but then again the last quarter or so kind of loses its charm, so feel free to stomp that when the time comes.

So that's it for now. Go get a cigar and a beer and sit out in the sun, just as God intended, assuming I've interpreted His Word correctly. If not, may lightning strike my next cigar, lighting it in the coolest way imagineable.

This Can't Be Healthy

I can't say much other than prepare to laugh in anguish at this Japanese game show, where the contestants have to say the tongue-twister correctly or face dire consequences:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aEKqU1fkYCI

I wonder if they test that thing to make sure it won't cause any lasting damage...
If it was China, I'd think they did this just to help with the overpopulation.

He's Very Tricksy

This article (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/5217698.stm) on the BBC News website today (and probably every other news site, too, but that's just the one I look at) talks about Saddam Hussein's wish to have a firing squad rather than be hanged if he is sentenced to death.

It might sound as though he's giving up, accepting the fact that he will die at our hands, because of which he seems to think he deserves special treatment. Next he'll want a glass of milk to go with that cookie during his last meal, but then he'll need a straw, and my goodness it will never end.

However, Saddam's defense plea deserves closer consideration. Keep in mind that the following quote is from Saddam himself:

"I advise you as an Iraqi, if you were in a circumstance in which you have to issue a death penalty, you have to remember that Saddam is a military man and in this case the verdict should be death by shooting not by hanging," he told the judge.

Yes, Saddam has slipped up this time: he talks about Saddam in the third person. By speaking as if he were some sort of man who still issues death penalties, rather than some sort of man who is about to face the death penalty, he has clearly indicated that a stunt double will be performing during his death scene. "You have to remember that my friend Saddam...er, I mean, I, Saddam Hussein, seriously this time, am a military man!" Didn't this just happen with Ken Lay, too? Well, let's just hope his captors aren't fooled by some elaborate ruse wherein Saddam switches places with a patsy...although it would make for a tense movie of the week.

LONG LIVE THE EIGHTIES

...That's the 1980's, not the 1580's, which are pretty much dead and buried. Actually, the research I'm doing this summer is based partially in the 1580's period, but that's neither here nor there. Okay, it's there, but definitely not here. Um.

Oh yeah, my point: http://insuranceandnews.com/ Yes! Hey, stop that. Seriously, don't make that face. If you'd just give it a chance, you'd find out that this site, although it has the most boring name in the history of the internet (even more boring than www.boring.com, which used to be thought impossible), is actually a freaking gold mine of 80's nostalgia. That's because it is a collection of FIFTEEN HUNDRED MUSIC VIDEOS FROM THE NINETEEN EIGHTIES. I'm sorry, but a collection this good requires dramatic use of CAPS LOCK and the SPELLING OUT OF NUMBERS.

It's like a pirate stole the 1980's and buried them at insuranceandnews.com because he knew nobody would ever look there, but then a Space Monkey who comes in peace totally found the copy of the map, dug them up, and spread them all across the world.

Current Highlight: "Down Under," by Men at Work. Not because it's really a great song or anything. No...because it's a POP UP VIDEO. Remember those? Man, those were the days. I love my music videos peppered with inane facts.

Current Disappointment: "Putting on the Ritz," by Taco. Not because it's a crappy song (it's a totally awesome song. Don't fight the Taco.). No...because it doesn't work right now. I hope they fix that, cuz that's a sweet song.

Go now. http://insuranceandnews.com/ And don't thank me...thank the 80's!

What's Worse Than A Lobster On Your Piano?

Well, God, or Darwin, or whoever controls the supply of new creatures in this crazy world, you've done it again! Scientists discovered crabs covered in fur (click here for BBC news story) and quickly went to the clinic to be tested for other potentially serious issues. Personally I think the Yeti Crab would make a great mascot--college kids are much more likely to relate to a fur-covered crab than something unusual like a leopard. How many kids come back from freshman year or the beach with leopards? Seriously, though, I can only imagine where the jokesters will take this one. Lowbrow humor has never been so fortunate.

Perpetual Motion

I always thought that inertia would cause things to eventually stop, but I found out last Saturday that skiing doesn't follow the rules of inertia, because it's impossible to stop while skiing. That's not true, I'm just bitter because I don't have the (key) ability to stop while skiing. It was my first time ever (can I finally start living up to Mainer status?), so I guess I couldn't hope to perfect everything right away, but that would have been a nice trick to pick up.

Jeff's been calling me "Runaway Train," referring to one instance in particular where I somehow went from 0-60 mph within milliseconds and obviously couldn't really control myself. It was just down the terrain park, so it wasn't really steep or anything, but it was cluttered with very large jumps, which I told myself to avoid at all costs. Amazingly, I made it through the run without wiping out, whereas Jeff said he almost fell just trying to catch up to me.

Overall, skiing was an interesting experience, in that it scared the crap out of me--I could barely sleep Saturday night thinking back on the craziness of it all. I also couldn't stop hating the small children who were all better at skiing than I was. If I never have to "pizza pie" or "snowplow" again in my life, I won't be terribly upset. Maybe next time I'll just hop on the lift and never hop off, because the lift ride was my favorite part.

I've Never Met An Accident I Didn't Commit

(Alternate titles: An Accident's Just A Friend You Haven't Finished Off; Accident Shmaccident--You're Dead, Whittington!)

Furthering solidifying his position as "so evil he's just got to be a movie villain," Dick Cheney went positively Wedding Crashers on a 70 year old man Saturday (click here for article).

Yes, that's right: according to BBC News, during a quail hunting expedition, Cheney "had turned round to shoot at a bird but sprayed Mr Whittington with shotgun pellets instead." Instead of the fleshy buttocks, however, Cheney went straight for the jugular, hitting his victim in the "in the cheek, neck and chest."

What set him off? Was it an insult to his ridiculous attire? Perhaps Mr. Whittington had expressed having a problem with Cheney's general attitude toward everybody here and in Iraq.

Whatever the provocation, one thing is certain: Cheney will not rest until his prey's head hangs from his wall. "The Whittington clan is overpopulated in this country and they're decimating the grubworm population," raved Cheney, flailing his shotgun around as if to indicate that the power of Christ was compelling him.

Mr. Whittington "is said to be 'alert and doing fine' in hospital," and in fact could not stop flinching and mumbling about his credentials. "I-I-I'm allowed to b-be here; I didn't...I've never, I-I've never given a fake n-name i-in my life."

When asked to comment on the actions of his second in command, an excited President Bush stammered, "Yeah, ah, ah love that scene when Dick was throwin' up in the toilet, and he told that Claire, he tells that girl to go get him some 7-Up, 'cause he's about to get invulnerable agin'!"

"The local sheriff's department is investigating the incident," reports BBC News, but then again, the local branch of Haliburton received a grant from the government to rebuild Cheney's shattered alibi, creating a potential roadblock to the capture and incarceration of Public Enemy #2.

Torn

I'm torn over the ridiculous, absurd, despicable response in the Islamic world to the printing of "offensive" comics in Danish newspapers. I want to decry it--and I do decry it. But every time I go to condemn Islam, I find myself needing to balance it out by condemning the Christian world as well. I mean, we think of them as insane, and they are, but so are so many Christians. Case in point: George God-Also-Speaks-To-Me-In-The-Form-Of-A-Burning-Bush. I mean, what's the point in tearing down one religion, when that only makes me look as if I'm supporting the other? I want to tear them all down. If money is the root of all evil, perhaps organized religion is the parasitic vine that grows around the tree, wrapping itself tightly around the tree, throttling it, in the name of crushing the life out of the evil tree, all the while crushing the life out of all other trees too, good or evil. Feeding from the same source that feeds the evil money root. Then again, perhaps this analogy is out of control. When I don't take my pills, I tend to get cranky, and religion tends to irk me the most. And since I don't actually take pills, it's like religion is constantly a bad thing. Oops, I should rephrase that to show that I'M the one with the problem, not religion. I must need to reevaluate the positives in my life and see if they match up with causing negatives in other people's lives. Either that or I must need a new doctor, one with a free-wheeling pill supply.

Iconic

If you've got any German blood running through your veins, you've always felt a strange tugging at your gut at any sighting, or even mention, of David Hasselhoff. You know Germans love this guy, but do you really understand why? In the ongoing interest of explaining this phenomenon, here is another example of why he is worthy of an entire country's adulation:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gi2CfuqcUGE
Didn't even have to take his shirt off for that one.

In other news, I wonder who invented homework. His legacy is killing me, which is what I would have done to him if I had heard that pitch: "Let's make the children take this stuff home and do it on their own time, because I really need a smoke." Jerk. I don't have class on Wednesdays or Fridays, so if I can get a handle on this "managing my time" business, I might just make it. If not, I guess I can move to Germany, adopt a dog, and get paid by the government to live on the street. Doesn't seem that tough, if you don't mind fleas and freezing in the winter.

Praise For My Blog

Some high profile celebrities have been singing the praises of this blog and, well, other stuff:

"Billy Jean is not my lover, and neither is Adam Callaghan--but then again, I always say look for the good inside a person, and Adam Callaghan is still a kid at heart, an adorable little boy at heart, a luscious, beautiful little boy at heart oh my Godcalmdown.......which explains not only why his blog is fantastic, but also why I find myself developing an unhealthy attraction to him, making an Adam Callaghan hair doll, and receiving an Adam Callaghan restraining order from the powers-that-be. Fight the powers!" - Michael Jackson

"I really respect Adam Callaghan's never-say-die, take-no-prisoners style of cat grooming, but I feel that his writing is lacking in...well, let's call it "quality." I mean, my cat has never before been so spiffy clean, but the free grooming was not worth promising to tell all my friends about his blog. Gosh, what was I thinking? I mean, let's be serious, I don't need my cat groomed for free; 45 year old women pay me good money to sign their chests all the time." - John Mayer

The Naked Truth

I went shopping today with my mom. We had a fairly productive day: a winter jacket, a belt (reversible!), and a pair of running shoes. I despise shopping though, especially for shoes. I realized when I was in Germany that I could really use a pair of dress-casual shoes, since cross-trainers didn't cut it at some of the nicer places, plus it's a lot easier to look nice no matter what you're wearing if you've got dress-casual shoes instead of sneakers. But, while it's hard to find size 14 sneakers, it seems to be impossible to find size 14 casual shoes. I pointed out that apparently tall people aren't supposed to dress nicely, but my mother wouldn't accept that; No, she reminded me, tall people apparently aren't supposed to dress at all. Yes, the bright side of the issue is that it's not just shoes that are hard to find, it's everything, when you're tall. Sweet bright side.

On the actual bright side of things, when some movers took my sister's old desk and bureau out of her room the other day, I found buried treasure: a Dumb and Dumber pog. Yes, that's right, a Dumb and Dumber POG. No, stop, please...it's not for sale. It's a keeper.

Back In The U.S.S.....A

Greetings from Maine. Yeah, after about 5 months I'm home. The trip (the traveling home, I mean, not the entire German trip thing) was long and, let's be honest, sucky. It was over 30 hours of being awake and traveling. The worst was Basel, Switzerland. Basel is close to Freiburg, really close, so I figured it would be a good place to fly out of...but that was when I thought I was leaving Dec. 18, from Freiburg. I was flying out at 6 AM. I had to take a train that arrived there at 12:00 AM. Have you ever spent the night alone in an airport? Don't. I don't recommend it. Airports at night are huge, dark, and eerie. If you really need a place to rob somebody, the airport at like 1 AM should be right up your alley. You'll find 1 or 2 suckers like me, sitting in a chair with 2 bags under my chair and between my legs, with my suitcase standing up next to me as I try to rest my head on it and catch roughly 10 minutes of sleep per hour. Lame.

So finally I'm able to fly out of Basel, aaand...it's a 30 minute flight to Zurich. That's right, a half hour flight to Zurich, where I proceed to wait for almost 7 more hours. Zurich was closer to me by train than Basel was--where's the justice in that? Finally I fly from Zurich to Boston, a lovely 8 hour flight. I had my first airplane alcohol--one of those little bottles of wine. It wasn't as exciting as I would have expected, and I really couldn't understand why, on a SWISS Air flight, the only beer was Heineken and the only wine was Californian. There was also at one point a meal served that was basically a large hot pocket. The package told me it was made in Italy. My instinct (and tastebuds) told me it was a Nike factory in Taiwan.

But enough about airline food. My mom picked me up in Boston and brought me home to some great belated Christmas gifts, which it turns out were just to soften the blow of the 8 AM dentist appointment the next day. So anyway, by now hopefully my negativity has plunged you into depression, and because I'm still jetlagged, I don't feel like raising your spirits by talking about positive things, so I'll call it a night. Tune in next time, when I may slip up and write about things that I actually enjoy/ed.

Kleine Kinder Kacke, So Zu Sagen

That's a direct quote from a German soccer player, basically "little kid's crap, so to say," describing his and the opposing team's goalie's behavior during the game. They were arguing, and one of them jerked his head a little bit for unknown reasons, but then they both fell to the ground holding their faces, pretending they had been head-butted. It was awesome, especially since one got a yellow card and the other got a red card. The one with the red card had to leave the game of course, and this was just before a shoot-out, which meant a normal field player had to step in as goalie...and he still managed to help his team win. Fußball rules.

In other kleine Kinder news, little 3 and a half year old godchild Lenjo was telling his father and I the other day about me being at their house, and I shall paraphrase: one day I was suddenly gone (that was in August), and he didn't see me for a little while, and then one day I was just there again (about a week ago), and he just didn't notice me because he was looking down and must not have thought to look up high enough. End paraphrase. It's funnier to hear it from the small German child's mouth, considering how earnest he was about not noticing me because he didn't think to look up, but how often do you get that opportunity anyway? He also regaled us with the story of how he used to say my name as "Äbäm" but can now say it the German way of "Ädäm." Of course, if you don't speak or read any German, you won't know how to say either Äbäm or Ädäm, but imagine saying the American name "Evan" but with a "b" or "d" in place of the "v," and an "m" in place of the "n," and you'll basically have it. Lesson complete.

Merry belated Christmas and frohe Weihnachten and so forth, and here's looking forward to a happy Sylvester as well, which you'll of course recognize as the Looney Tunes cat whose comical lisp (what cruel person invented the word lisp?) allows us to enjoy the fact that he always gets the stuffing knocked out of him when he attempts to eat adorable Tweety Bird. You also might recognize it as the time in life when a giant ball slowly drops from the sky, people all over whatever time zone chant numbers together, and the hopeful and the misguided make resolutions that are supposed to last 356 days but instead last for 356 minutes: New Year's. Being in Germany, I'll of course receive my new year 8 hours before most of the people I know, and even 9 or 10 hours ahead of those unfortunates toward the middle or west of America. I'm not sure if the telephones will work--I've never been able to phone back in time before, so I doubt you'd be able to hear me from the year 2006. But if I can somehow send a message all the way back to 2005, I'll see what I can do--you'll no doubt want to hear if 2006 is worth it, because everyone hates surprises, which is why we all tell each other what we want for Christmas and have a phrase about "upsetting the balance of things." That'th all for now, folkth.

Winter in Deutschland

So you're saying it's been about a month since I last posted. Well here I am again, in case anybody else is still here too. Finally finished my semester in Freiburg on Thursday, and left on Friday...although "finished" is a tricky word, since I actually still have one short paper to write in the next few days, haaaa ha crap. All in all it was amazing, I can't really believe it's over, which is helped by the fact that I'm staying in Germany until Jan. 11 now. I'm at Thorlef and Brigitte's house, arrived on Friday, and I'll be here for a couple more days probably, before I go to Britta and Wolfgang's for Christmas and perhaps New Year's.

I'm really lucky I get to stay longer--I don't think I would have been able to go straight home, it would be such a shock to the system. Now I get to just absolutely relax (well, except for the babysitting hundreds of little kids part, but I enjoy that too), drink lots of wine and Schnappes, and speak more German. It's nice to actually be able to do that now, whereas at the beginning all of my relatives were pretty much forced to speak English with me. It's good to see relatives again, too, and I'm seeing more than before--Michael and LaNon and their 4 and a half kids were here from Saturday to Sunday, I hadn't seen them for 6 years. And then I have plenty more time, so I'll hopefully see others at some point.

And this is my first time seeing such familiar places in the Winter--Thorlef and Brigitte's is beautiful in this season too, with a dusting of snow, especially when viewed through the glass-wall from the comfort of the hot tub. We've gotten a lot of snow recently, but the ground's still too warm, so it hasn't stuck. They took me to a classical music concert last night in Frankfurt, which was really cool.

I'm gonna go for now, but enjoy the last few hectic, ridiculous days leading up to Christmas.