Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Prison tattoo's and motor boats


It took me a couple weeks to muster up the courage to go. My family was all there, sister, brother, his wife, my parents. We were finally all together and on our way to Germany. I will start this story in the pre airport airport.
I was sitting just adjacent to a very familiar looking woman in the hall of the pre airport airport. I had never seen her before, yet she seemed sad and perhaps her familiarity came because I was feeling a bit despondent myself. She was an older woman probably in her 40's. Blonde hair that she probably bleached herself. Her strong frame was well dressed in an affordable taste, accessorizing with marked down Norstrom shoes and a colorful scarf. She was not any different from your average divorced, middle income woman who's hobbies include lifting weights, getting drunk with her other divorcee friends on the weekends in a club full of people half their age, and getting ready to go to a career boot camp followed by a yoga boot camp. I was interested in her, and so having no idea why, I found my way over to talk to her. Even though I already knew everything about her I let her say all that she needed to say.
She was very polite. She told me all about herself. She was indeed divorced, and had two kids who lived with her ex, and their father. It took her 15 years to realize she was not happy with her life and so she divorced and is now even more depressed than ever. I felt so sorry for this woman. She was unintentionally broken from a life of self hatred and deprivation of a healthy marriage.
Our plane was soon leaving from the airport, so we needed to head from the pre airport airport to the actual airport. Not knowing what was to come next I decided I liked this woman so I told her she was wlecome to accompany my family and I as we made our way up the spiraling escalator.
After losing my parents, brother and his wife on the way up, my sister and I decided to travel alone with this woman, so we made our way to the real airport knowing we would meet the others later before the plane left. I was feeling very uneasy at this time, and rightfully so. First of all, why are we all here I wondered. Secondly, I had to go to the bathroom. Lastly, I looked over to the woman who was traveling with us and she instantly turned into a black woman. But for some reason I was ok with this and we continued on our way.
We came upon a giant lake that was awfully dirty and smelled of rotting flesh. It had trash on the first layer, covering the second layer of cloudy green slime and amputated limbs. What the?
My tiny little sister knew exactly what to do, so obviously trusting that we followed her into a rusty old motor boat that was intended to transport people from the pre airport airport to the real airport. I had a strong desire to cross the lake really fast so I could get some food. I was starving! I explained this to my sister as she rolled up her sleeves revealing two arms full of prison tattoos. Her pattin leather pants went very nicely with her skull ink I thought to myself, but since when is my sister a prison bad ass?
I looked over my shoulder after climbing in to see my sister using her giant arm muscles to start the boat engine. Brown gasoline scented clouds surged out from underneath the stern. This was getting pretty creepy now, and more importantly who was this sister of mine, and how does she know how the drive a boat?
The engine finally started and we headed straight forward to the other side of the lake.
Faster and faster we went. I was getting hungrier and hungrier. The black lady wouldn't shut up now, and her mouth was becoming a burden. I ignored her most of the boat ride, and it's a good thing I did because I was more paying attention to the way ahead of us. "Look out!" I yelled to my sister.
She quickly turned the boats steering device, avoiding a collision with a blurred out %%@&*(%, causing us all to take a frightening dive into the dark nasty water. What was that? I had no idea, and my mind couldn't even comprehend what it was. We were soaked to the bone. This was instantly funny to me. How silly, I thought to myself. What an adventure. I will be blogging about this for sure. I was laughing really hard now.

"Hillary! Hillary! What are you laughing about?" Christoph says.

5am or so. I reply "Hmmshd dihd ddjijij" Words would not come out. I couldn't explain what was so funny, all I knew is that I loved this dream and I wanted to finish it.

Fell asleep again.

Thankfully the shore was not too far off. We departed from the lake of horror that reminded me of the lake in the last Harry Potter movie I saw, and continued our way to the airport.
The food market was were we entered, and I could not wait to eat. My dad came up to us and asked us why we were all wet? I looked over at my sister and he said, "Oh I see."
I guess he knew that my sister was not the best boat driver.?????
I looked down at my dads food he had in his hand, and he reluctantly offered me one of his crackers. This made me so angry because he knew I was gluten intolerant and that I loved these little cheesy delights. How could he be so insensitive.
We left him, and accompanied with my new annoying black lady friend we went to go search for a salad.
We ate, but I was not satisfied at all. The leafy greens even in dreams don't do it for me.
We went over by where my dad was, and he was speaking fluent German to some German woman. That was strange. I didn't know my dad spoke such amazing German.

Woke up. "Whoa, I had such a weird dream"

"I guess so, you were laughing really hard early this morning."

I love dreams, and I have the craziest ones! It's funny because little details in my dreams play out what I am actually feeling at the time.
I woke up really having to pee. I also was very hungry, and I wish I really did have a black lady friend.
My dad often forgets I am gluten intolerant. I find escalators scary because I always imagine myself getting sucked in by my clothes. I have an amputated limb phobia. I was getting jealous of my dad when I found out he spoke better German than me, and I love cheesy crackers.
The only part I cannot explain is the divorced woman, and the fact that my sister looked like a prisoner.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Tame that deer!

What do you do when you have an absolutely ridiculous question? You are too afraid to ask an actual person, so you what? You Google it.
I was doing just that when I had the question. "What are some good hobbies for women?" Interestingly enough it came up with endless possibilities, some of which include blogging, reading, learning a different language, exercising, cooking, playing or learning an instrument. It's funny because I already do all of these things although I still find myself with some spare time. It's not everyone who has to fill up their day with hobbies. I was not satisfied with what Google had given until I came upon this website. I needed something different. Something that no one else does. This is the list that I got.

1. body painting
2. underwater photography
3. rice sculpture
4. exploring extra sensorial capacities, through different methods like hypnosis
5. aerobics in the water
6. animal communication
7. making stunts
8. cooking zany food
9. making robots
10. stars watching
11. taming wild animals
12. exploring volcanoes and underwater caves
13. hobbies related to the religions of the world
14. traveling and exploring exotic countries.

As you see in this picture wild animals take to me well, so the hobby number 11 "taming wild animals" immediately caught my eye. In the forests here they have some deer. This would be it. Now I would begin my new adventure training one of the worlds most peaceful animal, the deer. I could really make something out of this. I will first sow myself (I do know how to sow now) a ranger outfit. Hat included. I think it should be bright purple, this way the deer know me as someone special and not just another forest ranger. I should probably get a boy scouts guide, they usually really know what they are talking about. I think it would also be suffice to get myself a gun. You never know when a wild animal could turn on you. I think I even know what I will teach them. To their benefit, I will train them in hi speed runs, so they will be more apt to escape predators. I will teach them that the roads are off limits, keeping the deer fatality rate at a low. I will also teach them to transport humans and construct a special deer saddle so that it makes for a more comfortable ride.
Deer are surely going to be the new horse.

I believe number 6 comes hand in hand with taming wild animals. You have to have a gift, so communicate with the animals first. I believe I attained this gift after almost being strangled by a dog when I was in the 5th grade. It grabbed my scarf on a wintery day, and almost choked me to death. I whispered to it because I couldn't speak in a normal voice, "Let go" It finally did leaving me with only a bloody nose and dark circles around my eyes.
Another time would have been when I was 12. A stray dog came up to me in a parking lot. I looked at it intensly in the eyes and thought to myself "Go away stray dog"
It turned around and left.

I am also an expert fisherman. I tell the fish. "Bite my line....right now"
They bite!

I already have number 14 under my belt. I live in Germany! hello! I can cross that one off now.

I don't think my husband would appreciate me trying out different religions of the world. He told me I could never wear a Burka so that one is out.

I think my second choice would be making a robot. Not very many people do this. I think I have the time and the money to create a little robot creature to do my chores for me. To be my surrogate and take my place in the world. I will never have to leave the closet again! Yes. I could give it special gifts. I could be beautiful and perfect all the time. I could eat whatever I wanted. I could be a special agent and fight the real humans from using a special gun to kill all of the robots. Maybe Bruce Willis could help me out even. I know he like robots.

I think I have a lot to get busy with so I'll keep you informed on how it's going.

I can't wait to meet Bambie.

Monday, October 26, 2009

The wrong basket

Duetsch. Oh how this haunts me everyday. I am catching myself thinking. 'Maybe if I just listen a little bit closer....I could understand." Nope. I think when they say "Doosh" It means something completely different from what I understand. In German it means "shower." Just when I think I am understanding. Although I am getting better at it.

I had never thought of how asking Christoph over and over again. "What did he say?" or "What was that?" would be annoying to him until I met our dear friends who are going through the same exact thing.

She is American, he is German. And I see a lot of her in me. "What did he say?" As we are all sitting around a poker table, and all that is being said is German, and you are sitting there thinking. 'What could I learn tomorrow in German that would just blow their minds that I would know something like that.' You think. 'I am going to secretly learn it real fast so that they wont know I can understand them when they are talking about me.'
Other thoughts glide through my mind like. 'I am living in an alien world. They all are saying something that means something, yet I have no idea what that is.' Also I think,
'I wonder what kind of person they are. All I can get from them talking to me is that they have an adorable accent.'
'I wonder what that guy is thinking in a language I don't understand. Or that woman who looks just like a human, and does things just like a human, but is thinking in a completely different tongue than what I know.'
It's fascinating really. All of these people. Millions who live in Hamburg, and I have no idea what they are saying.

The other day in the grocery store, we were hustling around trying to get our hand out to snatch some yogurt, wrestling all of the crazy mothers with their strollers trying to get in their last minute shopping before heading home to cook dinner. We were leaving our cart in different places, as we journeyed around the packed store trying to find the cheap, yet still tasteful version of our choice foods. I was a bit nervous. After all, things move a bit quicker than our gigantic mega supermarts in america, that has basically a checker for every person in the store. No this is a bit different. People are in and out, and if you get in their way, they yell something in German and you have no idea what they just said. But look out next time.
So back to the other day. I was just minding my own business, getting my rice cakes. I put them in our cart, and then moved on. I look at Christoph. He has our cart. A different one then the one I just occupied with my rice cakes. I look back at the cart I just put them in. It was not our cart but the cart of a dear older woman. Shewalks up just after I did this and laughs and smiles at me, and say's something. I could imagine what she said, but I still had no idea. She seemed okay, no sign of annoyance or anything. It is in these times, I really wished I knew what people were saying. I feel like a retard replying to people who speak to me out and about, and when they something to me all I can do is smile and say "Ja!"

They probably think I am some stupid American. I am.

Thankfully this will not last for long. Soon I will be starting my new German class. Until then, I need to avoid all human contact and speak to no one. I will make sure I am always putting my food in my own basket, and when the checker says something to me at the end of my purchase she is probably asking me if I would like to keep the receipt, and all I have to do is nod yes or no. I can do this.

Christoph's mom said to me the other week she can't wait until I start speaking more German, after I asked her husband in German. "Would you like some butcher?" Referring to the plate of meat I was passing him at the table."

They laughed.

Friday, October 23, 2009

It's play time

I have had it. I think Chirstoph finds it amusing that for a couple days out of the month he gets a different Hillary. After telling him I'll murder him if he doesn't give me some chocolate, he laughs even harder. But it's not a relaxed laugh like usual. It's a laugh out loud, ha ha ha, but I hope you're joking, but of coarse she's joking.....Is she joking?
Last night he said he is going to start a PMS diary of everything I say.
Two entries were filled yesterday.
"Did you know that the smell of farts actually can cure cancer?"
He loved that one.
I was explaining this to him to cover for....well, I just was.


"Quit acting like the victim, you're not the victim, you're the cause of it!"

Another entry was.
"Quit chewing your gum like a prick."
He was definitely chewing his gum like a prick, all loud with his mouth open. I think you can almost read who a person is by the way they chew their gum. In this case, Christoph is not a prick because I wouldn't marry a prick for one, and two he knew it bothered me.
So the antagonizing continues, and he finally gives in to make me a delicious nutella covered rice cake. You see, I ask him when I am sane, if he could please hide the nutella. Then come time when I need some chocolate, I can ask him ever so politely if he will give me some so I don't eat the whole jar. I should probably have him hide the whole kitchen, but we don't have enough room for that. So then he agrees, because he is a very good husband who wants the best for me.
Then the monster comes out. When I want chocolate I have to get it....Now. At this point feel like a junkie coming down off of heroine. So me being the persuasive and manipulative person of the relationship, I then convince him by very particular intelligent reasoning as to why he should give me some chocolate. This usually happens almost every night, and it ends in me tackling him, choking him, pulling his hair, calling him names. You name it.
He said last night, "I'm going to go into my first day of work with a black eye and I'll have to make up some story of running into a cabinet."
I reply "Whatever you %&^$#@, I'm not that horrible."
Christoph says, "Yeah, and I'll have to explain why the cabinet has a perfectly round fist shape"

So I maybe exaggerated my part a little bit. Maybe.
Don't think I'm a horrible person. It's sounds a lot worse than what it is. And if I thought it was harmful, I would not be blogging about it of coarse.

He always gives in to me getting my chocolate. Then when he offers it to me, I wonder why he is not holding me better accountable and then I change my mind and say "I don't want any chocolate." But this usually happens mid day, and then at night is when I finally HAVE to have it. Always after having my first one, I want more. This is where having only him know where it is has proven itself to be the best option.

It's funny because, and I think most women will agree with me here, you have so much anger, or I'm not sure what it is, built up inside of you with no one who will understand or let you extract it peacefully. It has to come out somewhere. I think this is why God gives women husbands. To be the outlet. The spout that pours out the pot's hot substance. The shelf to put all of the junk on. The drain sifter to keep all of the slimy food from clogging the sink. The rug that cleans our shoes. The pussy substance that comes out of a cut to heal it. The toilet to.....nevermind that's too far. Our husbands are all of these things. To keep the peace in the homes. And God gave men women to keep peace on a more "whole world" scale. I don't even know where to start on what women do for this world. It's almost indescribably too good to write down. So I wont.

I'm not making much sense.

So this all goes to say that once again I have a wonderful husband, and God chose him specifically for me so that I could have a great outlet once a month every month for the rest of our lives.

I love it when he asks me about ow to spell something, or what something is called. I can just make it up, and he believes me. He says, "What are those socks called that go down to your ankles?"
I say "Flockies, they're called flockies" (made that up)
He says, "Oh ok, I need to go get some flockies tomorrow"
End of story.

Today he asks
"How do you spell October? With a K or a C?"
I say, "With a K"

From now on, he spells it wrong.

I'll tell him tomorrow. I am not that cruel.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Christoph and I are enjoying this week of relaxing, spending our time reading, having amazing conversations about what God wants for our lives, watching Curb your Enthusiasm, and listening to music on our new record player. We are experiencing the blessings of marriage. Learning from each other, growing in love more and more each day. Christoph said to me today, "Being married you learn so much more about yourself, how you need to change or grow, how it's as if we are holding up mirrors for each other for the other person to look through, showing us a little bit more of who we really are, pointing each other to Christ to complete us. This I think is a perfect way to say that, we accept each other all flaws included. Yet we both grow and change by wanting to be all that we can be for God first and foremost, and then to each other. I am comforted in the fact that despite not knowing our future at this present time we have Christ, we have each all in all wherever we are living, whatever we are doing as long as our hearts are in the right place there is no doubt in my mind that God will use us no matter what. We remind each other that whatever we do, we will not do it for ourselves but for God. The more we are living on this earth experiencing the all that this earth can offer, we are every day surprised how unsatisfying it really is. Our desire to live in a big city, to experience its liveliness, has proven itself darker and the polar opposite of what we thought we would get out of it. Of anything for that matter. Money, fashion, business, security, success. The only substance we feel in all of this is God. He goes with us wherever we are. To live for the fact that our joy does not come from material things, but from Christ is something to be happy about everyday.
On a different note, I witnessed my neighbor dancing in her kitchen like a maniac. Who needs TV when you have a such a great view of people watching.

This picture is the front entrance to our apartment. We live on the fourth floor.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Frozen Eels, dying plants, and tiny moths

6am-Reluctantly woke up.
7am-Left for Hamburg
8am-Christoph driving while I slept
9am-I'm still sleeping
11am-I woke up, we stopped for a coffee and talked a bit about the world coming to an end.
12pm-Ate some delicious apples and bananas
1pm- Ah ok, this is where things get a bit more exciting. Christoph was informed that he should call our landlord just as we passed Hannover and were near to Hamburg. He did so. No answer. He did again. No answer. It vaguely crossed my mind that perhaps we would be on the news tomorrow about being scammed into renting a place we had never been to, from a man we had never met. Then that thought vanished. Christoph called again. No answer. Interestingly Christoph had the same thought and explained to me that this had crossed his mind being he did just wire transferred the money into Svens account last night. (Sven is pronounced Sven just like it looks) So here we after call to our friend Sven, and still no answer. We start discussing now that we have surely been scammed, and what do we do now. We start laughing. All we can do is laugh at the fact that perhaps we have been dooped. I remembered something similar to this story on the news last year. A woman from out of town bought a house on Craigs list to only arrive to a place that was already very occupied. This was us. We were the idiots this time. Oh how could this happen. Christoph said he could already see us sleeping on the couch of my brother and sister-in-laws in town. Ha, but little did this guy Sven know, the transaction hadn't completed itself. The jokes on him now. We would safely get our money back with no problem for us. Just a waisted long drive, and a car full of all of our crap. Including our new sleek record player:) We were so smart. We had figured it out within 10 min of what was to happen now. We would be ok. Christoph called again. Straight to voicemail now. "Oh geeze!" I exclaimed. This was it. I've heard of this before but never did I think it would happen to us. He called Sven again. No answer. "Oh wait, he just tried to call" Christoph said happily. Christoph calls one more time. "Hallo.... Sven!" A very annoyed Sven answers. "Hallo Christoph" Christoph tells him we are almost there.
Our future had just changed about 10 times in my mind that conversation lasting a total of about 10 minutes.
Ok so we were wrong, and glad to be. A night on Benni and Lea's couch would have been less than satisfactory for our first night in Hamburg.
We arrive to Germany's version of NYC. Hamburg.
I ask Christoph what floor we are on. "The first floor!" Oh great, this should be easy unloading our things. We arrive, and ring the bell. Sven answers. 4th floor he is on. Ha. Ok, so we are not living on the first. That's ok. My butt will be nice and firm 3 months from now.
We meet Sven. Tell him we thought he scammed us, which is why we called 100 times. Apparently this was not humorous to our new German friend. Sven looked tired and drunk. Later we found a cabinet full of liquor. We were right.
Smooth sailing from here on out. We sat for a bit in our very lightly furnished home. We were feeling a bit sad. Like we were living in a strangers place. A place filled with cd's of the Disco Boys, Italo dance 2000, 30 great Italo dance songs, a couple dead ferns, and an entertainment cabinet made out of two cement bricks. It took us a few hours to make it seem more at home. The place was a bit dirty. Sven's hair nestled in a couple places. But I think the most interesting thing that we have found in our already furnished, ready to go apartment was a freezer full of Eels. Yes Eels. Eel hunting must be popular in Northern Germany. Let me explain this to you a bit more clearly. They was not just one Eel dead in our freezer. But probably around 6. They were really long, creepy, and resembled a sort of monster that may have once appeared in a nightmare of mine. Smelly, slimy Eels. What kind of person keeps eels in their freezer I wondered. I know what kind of person. Sven. As you see in the picture I think he even thought he could hide them behind that little box thing. Maybe he was just saving them for a rainy day. Fire those bad boys up on the grill. All's I knew was they had to go. I would NOT be living in this place for 6 months, sleeping peacefully at night, knowing there were eels about to attack me in my sleep at night. No sir. "Christoph, I can't touch them, please get them out."
I love having a husband.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

My friends and family. I believe it is time for an update. Unfortunately nothing really crazy or embarrassing happened on our honeymoon. But even if something did, I don't think anything can now compare to what happened with Mr. Rogers and I. That is just in a league of it's own.
Following what seemed to be the longest plane ride in my life, we continued our new journey the beautiful mountains of Southern Germany. Not to talk down the Rockies, but these mountains are just one of a kind. There is something to be said about farmers tending to their sheep and cattle beneath the silky fog that melts over the green rolling hills. Darling old German houses that have been there for decades and are kept so neat and clean. The smell of the sweet dew after a falls rain. Manure. There is just nothing like it and what a better place to spend part of your honeymoon. The place we stayed is called the "Hubertus." A simple, old yellow hotel that overlooks the German Alps, and welcomes all of it's visitors a warm feeling of comfort and simplicity. I've never seen such a place, and I have never tasted such food. I think my favorite thing among the five coarse dinners was the squash saffron cappuccino soup. It literally had foam milk on the top. Real quality stuff my friends. And to top that off, they had ice cream that was out of this world. So after a delicious meal you could then decide to go to the heated pool, or mosey on over to get a massage. Maybe you felt like a work out, so they had a place for you there even. It was wonderful. We had a bath tub in the middle of the room! Blissful, exquisite, and all I had imagined a honeymoon should be. So three nights would do it for that before we headed home to pack for our next more tropical honeymoon in Mallorca. I'll write more about that later though. I have to now go pack, because tomorrow we are off to Hamburg!
Auf Wiedersehen!

Friday, October 9, 2009

From old to oldest

On our plane trip form Atlanta to Munich, a little mishap took play.
It was late at night, dark, and all of the plane lights were off. Now, being that I didn't get barely a wink of sleep this past week, and all through the plane ride, I was pretty out of it. After trying to not drink too much so I wouldn't have to go the bathroom a lot, I finally had to give in to get up and take a pee. I shuffled my way to the bathroom half asleep, then waited a couple minutes to take my turn in the delightful airplane bathroom. I tried to pee all that I could...I kinda get tensed up in those tiny turbulent bathrooms, and end up getting ready only to find that nothing comes out. After finishing I was looking forward to getting back to my seat, and trying to sleep a bit. Christoph has been sleeping in the window seat, so I ventured to find my way back to him.
Now, remember it is very dark, and we were seated in one of the last rows on the plane. Unfortunately I couldn't remember which row. I looked and looked until finally I spotted my new husband.
For some reason Christoph had covered himself up with his suit jacket in that short amount of time I had been gone, and surprisingly he also had the time to change his pants. I was sure he was wearing dark pants. Oh well, I just sat right beside him, and put my hand on his "very" upper thigh. Just wait, this is what makes it so funny. I sit down, start to go to take a peek under his jacket to say hello, and I hear my name "Hillary!" A couple rows up I see my husband Christoph staring at me in utter shock, no jacket over his head, in fact he looked just the way I thought he should.
Blood instantly rushed to my face, taking my stomach with it. "Oh Shit" I squeeked quietly aloud.(excuse my language but I really couldn't think of anything else to say.)
I awkwardly ran back to my seat, dove onto Christoph's lap and buried my head, reeking of embarrassment. He was laughing and terrified all in the same time. Peeking through the crack in the seat, I barely turned my head back to see if the guy knew someone had just touched his leg, almost his crotch. His head came out from under his jacket, dazed and confused. He was about 70 years old, white hair and had a big uneasy smile on his face. That makes it even better.
His friend was apparently behind him, so he looked back at his friend, and said "Who just touched me?" His friend said, "I don't know I was sleeping."
"Oh, that was so weird, maybe I was dreaming, I was sure I felt someone put their hand on my leg." He replied.
I couldn't face him. Since he wasn't sure himself, I thought I would let him think that a beautiful angel came down and gave him a little squeeze on his "very" upper thigh. This would be the better option over saying "Hi sir, I thought you were my husband, I'm sorry I touched you inappropriately. Could you please not file a sexual harassment suit against me?"
What an embarrassment. After realizing what I had just done, Christoph and I couldn't stop laughing for the longest time. To this day I'm sure that this poor old man thinks some....well, I'm not sure what he thinks.
What a great way to start our honeymoon. Let's hope the rest of it goes just as entertaining. Only I would do such a thing, and I think the rest of you know that as well.
Not only did I marry a bit of an older man, I thought I would try for even older. 70 is the new 30.