Human Kindness

About once every month I get this loving feeling for people I don't know. It usually happens when I am somewhere very public and if the people that I am seeing are particularly ugly or plain. That is, I rarely get this feeling at a club where everyone is rich, thin and partying, if you know what I mean. On bad days I want to weep with the weight of other people's seeming mysery, their glum faces. But other days I want to hug everyone and tell them how great I think they are. Yesterday was one of those days.

Going home on the tube in London I sat staring behind my new glasses. Sitting across from me all in a row from left to right- a perfect collection of what humanity has to offer. I felt my heart grow with love for my fellow man in all of his imperfect glory, melancholy, variety and plainness.

On the end sat a punk, a real one. Given that punks died in the 80's, this one was obviously a little worse for the wear, 40 something and still holding on. He was incredibly bloated in the face with red eyes and what I believe was a gut underneath his leather jacket. He was clutching a Guiness bottle and a sleeping bag roll. He had tatoos on his knuckles, two nose rings and wonder of all wonders a pin of a cat on his jacket underneath one that read 'Nazi punks fuck off.' I smiled at him which was not returned, but I understand. To his left sat a slightly hefty, middle-aged woman still trying. She had on those terrible trendy quasi-winter boots and a jean skirt over thick, sausage casing panty hose. She had a large, gold-cross around her neck, yellowed, spiky hair and was concentrating deeply on her trashy romance novel.

Tucked into their seats, not taking up any space, sat an Asian couple speaking loudly knowing no one could understand them. Middle-aged and wearing matching running shoes with their slacks and cardigans. She looked to the left when talking. He looked at the floor. A mom and son jabbered on next to the Asians, not as loud, but more animated. Mom looked like fun, but unforgivingly ugly in a very British way. She was of the tomato- on- toothpick variety with huge tits, a round middle and skinny legs imbalanced on those little ballet-slipper shoes. Her gobbler jiggled as she laughed her thick, smoker's laugh. Her son looked gay with acne scars, but hilarious. They had just been shopping and were talking about what they found. Fun!!Completing the menagerie,tucked up against the glass, sat a bull dyke. She had the posture of someone who is too tall even though she seemed really small. She was concentrating on finding something on her i-pod nano. I was concentrating on her immensely sunken breasts which were not helped by her lack of bra and bad posture. She snuck away at the next stop without my noticing while I was watching the punk sip his beer, probably thinking about his cat.

And so it was. My heart swelled for a few minutes and then contracted again not knowing where to put all this emotion for people of no consequence to me. I'll probably go back to not noticing until this time again next month.

What the difference between a monkey and a chimp?

It's the tail!!

In the primate world you have your monkeys and you have your apes. The difference is usually the tail. Monkeys have them, some of them even function like a thumb, called a prehensile tail. Apes are even closer to humans in terms of genetic make-up than monkeys are. We also don't have tails. I think all primates are the most beautiful creatures. If I wasn't such a wimp I would like to have become a Primatologist. But all that camping and bugs and rain forest, I don't think so. Whatsherface was raped numerous times trying to save the gorillas and every primatologist I have ever met really looks like a monkey. My favorite professor in Colorado looked like a capuchine monkey, so cute.

The picture above is of a baby organgutan, one of my favorite apes. They are the large orange ones that swing from tree to tree. You know, with the flat cheeks and orange hair? I smile when I think of how magical they are- too big to be playful, but sweet and stoic as they go through their days. They are loners mostly and only mate if they happen to swing into the area of someone they can mate with. They make a nest of branches and leaves every night in the trees to sleep. When it rains, they use a large leaf as an umbrella and even make cups out of leaves to get a drink of water. After a morning of looking for food, they take another nap in the nest. ho hum.

I know people freak over baby things, but there is a lot to be said about adults too. Look at this face.

I only wash my hands if I shit on them

Those words are not mine. They are from George Carlin. I find them funny though and say them often because I am not one who washes my hands after I use the bathroom for the most part; and I don't care for the condescending looks I get because of it. I am not going to go into it, but basically I am, at this point in my life, capable of finishing the process without getting dirty. Plus, while I find toilet paper fairly neutral to touch, the sinks and other things in a public restroom gross me out.

For those of you though that either a. haven't quite mastered the process yet, b) are too fat to reach and/or you have really short arms or c) need a little entertainment d) want to be as far away from your business as possible- I have found this tool for you.
This was originally created for people who can't manage alone. And since being able to go to the bathroom on our own, when we want is really the only thing seperating us from our house-pets, I can see why this is not only amusing, but also a simply important instrument.



It's getting rave reviews from people who have clearly used less effective alternatives.

"Greatly exceeded my expectations and I would recommend the SelfWipe to others."

"The ease of use and reach ability is better than other products I've used."

It's called Self-Wipe and it's just been reduced to 29.99. Anyone have a birthday coming up?

Four Square- Expert edition

In college, not everyday, but at least once we played that game called foursquare in the parking lot in front of our place. We drew the 'field' with chalk and brought out one of those red kick-balls. The idea of the game is to bounce the ball to another standing in one of the squares at the same time that you say something in line with a chosen category- or something to that effect. As a kid we did things like cereals and ice cream flavors. In this particular game we chose the category, "Hard Core band name ideas" Sometimes when I am doing something entirely unrelated that particular game will sneak into my head and I laugh out loud.

We were playing with my brother, a lost friend named Molly, Gwen and I believe Rab, but details fade over time. What hasn't faded are a few of the more interesting names that we came up with.
I really think we should continue this list- in case any of us need to start a band, or if we ever pick up Four Square again.

1) Disheveled
2) having a hard time
3) hating life
4) Unflushed Poop
5) Poop in a shoebox (Jason was totally on a poop kick, I think he won that round)
6) Discumbobulators
7) We suck
.......

sugar is my crack

Hey Gang.
I am laying off sweets for a few weeks. Every so often I need a break. In Germany we eat a piece of cake and coffee everyday at around 5. Today I was busy so I couldn't get my piece and almost had a mental breakdown. That's when i realized that I have a little problem. Time to hit reset. I have done this before and I swear after a few days of withdrawls, I suddenly sleep better, gain some iQ points and have more energy. This picture will help me, although I am not sure if that was the result this lady was hoping for when she creamed up here.

I found this at churchofannette blogspot. I am do not know what's going on there, but if kinky, old ladies are your thing then check it out.

Quick! Name your favorite Biathlete.

Can't do it? You're not alone.


The biathlon may be one of the most demanding sports in the Winter Games, but its athletes often feel like Rodney Dangerfield — they get no respect. Even in places like the former Soviet Union, Scandinavia and Germany, where biathlon's profile is high, sponsorship is meager and the sport's stars are not household names like those of soccer and ice hockey.

There's got to be something we can do about this.





Meet Tracy and Lanny Barnes. They are Bi-everything being that they are Biathletes and twins.

Kid swallows plumbum bracelet

A Reebok promotional bracelet is seen in an undated handout photo. Reebok International is recalling about 300,000 promotional bracelets after a child reportedly died of lead poisoning after swallowing one,




If you are going to swallow a bracelet, make sure it's a precious metal, ok? Or if you're going to do lead you need to be over 6 years of age.

LEAD
What's in a name? From the Anglo-Saxon word lead. Lead's chemical symbol comes from the Latin word for lead, plumbum.
Say what? Lead is pronounced as LED.

Lead is a soft, malleable and corrosion resistant material. The ancient Romans used lead to make water pipes, some of which are still in use today. Unfortunately for the ancient Romans, lead is a cumulative poison and the decline of the Roman empire has been blamed, in part, on lead in the water supply. Lead is used to line tanks that store corrosive liquids, such as sulfuric acid (H2SO4). Lead's high density makes it useful as a shield against X-ray and gamma-ray radiation and is used in X-ray machines and nuclear reactors. Lead is also used as a covering on some wires and cables to protect them from corrosion, as a material to absorb vibrations and sounds and in the manufacture of ammunition. Most of the lead used today is used in the production on lead-acid storage batteries, such as the batteries found in automobiles.

This. is. awesome.

Click on the title.

Can you smell what the Genki is cooking?
It's like Moulin Rouge and the WWF adopted an Asian baby. But it works! i think I did this same dance routine at a slumber party once.

Do you think it hurts more if the guy who has you pinned to the floor just danced his way into the arena?

Hear the Glass (h)Armoica in Paradise

One of the best jokes i have ever made was in a an elevator going up to the executive floor of the IBM 590 Madison Building. My colleague and I were having a harmless elevator chat about someone's upcoming birthday when she asked, " Hey. How do you say Happy Birthday in German?" I thought for a second and answered, "Heppy Birssdey." The doors opened on our floor and we spilled out, but not before I heard the chuckle of none other than the GM of Sales worldwide laughing to himself at the back of the elevator. I bet he totally told that joke to someone else as his own. He seemed like the type. I once sat behind him at a huge customer event. He dug around in his teeth for about two whole minutes, found something, looked at it and then ate it again. Then, we wiped off his hands, gots up, walked on stage and did an interview with Charlie Rose. I loved that guy. Once a salesman, always a salesman.

But the point is that this year, 2006 is the 250th birthday of Mozart. Heppy Birsdey, Mozart. Every single music festival, concert, orchestra in the world has a full mozart program this year zzzzzzz. I've heard three already... Someone very close to me who doubles as artistic director for a music festival in colorado created the greatest program around mozart for this summer. Each week will feature music and composers from four different citites that Mozart traveled to with only one Mozart feature per week so that there is room for other things. For one of the Mozart features he found one of Mozart's later pieces that features what? The glass harmonica.




A little research shows that there are only two professional glass harmonica players in the whole world. One is French and the other an American. You can't have a Frenchman go to the wild west to play something that was invented by Benjamin Franklin for a bunch of rich Texans. Unacceptable. So if you are interested in hearing the moody, moving sounds of the glass harmonica surrounded by the Paradise Divide and you need to celebrate Mozart's birthday more than you already have, I know how you can get tickets. I may even have a place for you to stay.

Krumping

I don't like when people use the word surreal. Tonight I came home starving after a long day of a root canal at 8 and then meetings in the munich office. I hadn't eaten all day, I am recovering from jetlag and have been working until 11 or 12 since I returned home. So, when I got home I whipped up some sloppy joes (from scratch, mang. There's no manwich in Germany). Meat and peppers piled on a slice of bread are heavy and within minutes after I finished I turned the TV on and fell to sleep on our sofa.

When I woke up, I saw this.

This exact scene of a guy alone, at the beach dancing at the edge of the water. Mannwich coma to solo dance.

MTV Germany is having Hip-Hop Day and they are playing something involving the most incredible waxy bodies and clown faces talking about life in the hood- in German. And then they had a giant dance-off. It was as if they were boxing, but dancing. Like you got served, but with clown costumes. I've seen You Got Served, twice. I also used to watch that dance contest show with the guy who waxed his chest and would say pop pop pop for every move he was teaching. My brother does the best impression of that guy. I think he did Britney too. Still, knowing all that- it took me watching the whole thing and then finally googling krumking (incorrectly) to realize this surr...strange thing is not a German mockumentary of life in the hood, but is, in fact, a documentary by David LaChappelle. How did I miss this?

Feline Nursery, could you dig us up some facts on how many people are actually being shot daily in the hood where this was filmed. The movie ended on the note that they are using this dancing and clowning to combat the pressures of living where they risk being shot just walking to the store.

The Sweatpant Army- Airport Edition

I don't begrudge fat people their right to wear sweatpants. In fact, I encourage it. No body wants to be fat. Either god cursed them or they took a wrong turn somewhere and can't find the road home. Once you cross the border to fat-town your body wants to stay doughy. It's a struggle. You need to join groups, watch Oprah, hate yourself, feel less-than and nothing fits. Plus, you will never ever again get to eat what you want unless it's in secret at one in the morning. So, go ahead and wear the sweatpants.

However, if you are thin and every single store on the planet carries clothes in your size that do not cut off your circulation, why are you wearing sweatpants?


Does this look good?




I know this doesn't.




Straight from the gym.




What's it called if you take the time for full-on make-up and hair, but then decide to wear sweatpants?




No comment.

The Sweatpant Army

What's up with the Sweatpants? I took Alexander to visit my old university, show him a little of the place that helped form me. There were so many memories there of the lectures I attended, my brother, my excellent friends and my boyfriend. I really liked that time. If you just pictured everyone on campus in regular pants, it seemed like everything was the still the same. Look, I went to Boulder and Boulder still attracts the same people. The guys all have really crappy facial hair that signifies their oneness with the mountains and right to go camping. The girls all spend over $100 highlighted their hair, but still maintain the 'outdoorsy' vibe. Then, there's your usual legions of sorority and frat people. In my day those girls all wore tight black pants to the bars. This was before Seven jeans and the flip-flop craze. Everyone had tevas or NewBalance hiking sneakers. You know the ones.

Today: sweatpants. All kinds of sweatpants. There are matching-outfit sweatpants (usually pink), then the tight yoga-pant sweatpants. There are those sport-pant sweatpant with the addidas stripes down the side (for the men). I even saw capri sweatpants(for the ladies) AND someone who had pushed up their sweatpants to make capri sweatpants(a guy).

You know it is a lot harder to put on regular pants, right? And then it is so uncomfortable to sit for a whole hour and listen if you have pants with a button and a zipper. I know. It's nearly impossible to concentrate during exams if you can't break out into excercise the minute you hand in your blue book. Finally, it's important to maintain the illusion that at any moment, you might like to crawl back into bed and sleep, dude. I was so wasted last night.

Back from Paradise

Hey Gang.

I am back from my trip to Crested Butte. I actually didn't do a lot of mountain things since I was working a lot of the trip, but at least I was there. I also didn't update that much since I was getting glares from family and friends about the amount of time my head was behind this screen. I analysed Santander Bank last week. We'll see if the analysis propels me to stardom or gets me fired. i have been walking a tight line lately at work between everyone's favorite team-member and general fuck up.

I have about five updates in draft since blogger is having issues with picture uploading. What is an entry without a photo to guide? nothing.

Don't ever stop drinking coffee

Today in an hour I am going to get my first polarity treatment. It's sort of like a massage without a lot of touching. I will be wearing sweatpants and a shirt. There will be no scented oils or lavendar lotion. No deep, deep rubbing on my back and neck. This is supposed to be better, though I can't imagine how it gets better than a massage if there is no oil and sweatpants are involved.

I bring this up because I was instructed that in order for the energy to really flow it would be better if I did not have any caffeine this morning and stayed away from alcohol last night. I woke up at 4 am today because of time-change and some nagging anxieties at work. Don't worry, I went to bed at 9. It is 10.30am and I have not had a cup of cofee yet.

My brain is seriously hurting. I have a headache that wraps around my eye-brows to the back of my head. All of this from no caffeine? I don't get it. What's in the stuff anyway? Look at it. It's just an innocent glass of frothed, hot milk flavored with a dash of coffee. I seriously feel like I am in withdrawls. I guess the only lesson I can draw from today is either never, ever start drinking coffee or never ever ever stop.

She looks like she doesn't wash her crotch

Wondering where I have been?
In the US, where people all speak English.
Friday in the Philadelphia airport Alexander and I were standing in line to board a plane to Denver. There was a girl also waiting to get on the plane who clearly looked like a CU Boulder student. The hot hippy look. She had on full hippie-gear. The outfit that says, it may have taken me two hours to pull this together, but I so don't care. See how messed up and not coordinated all of my clothes are? She had the essential long skirt, old shirt, ratty hair in some knot thing on her head, beads and clog shoes. But this one also had sex appeal. Her skirt was pulled down low enough on her hips to show off her hot pink thong and she had on a shit-load of make-up.

Alexander and I both were looking at her handing in her ticket to get on the plane. I guess i wasn't alert enough to realize that everyone would understand me when I said out-loud in a normal speaking voice, "she looks like she doesn't wash her crotch" Alexander turned bright red and hid under one of the gate chairs. But the girl standing directly in front of me and a head shorter than I am, turned her head around and upwards to nod yes, it does look like she doesn't wash her crotch and then said, "I think you said that out loud."

So I am here until Saturday, keeping my mouth shut.

To your present and future awesomeness

This one goes out to my soul's sister in light of some really perfect news. Did you ever have a friend so great that you feel better knowing that they are simply out there somewhere?


Pooh and Piglet walked home thoughtfully together in the golden evening, and for a long time they were silent.
"When you wake up in the morning, Pooh," said Piglet at last, "what's the first thing you say to yourself?"

"What's for breakfast?" said Pooh. "What do you say, Piglet?"

"I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?" said Piglet.

Pooh nodded thoughtfully. "It's the same thing," he said.

Come, break Ekmek with me, but don't slice it

We eat a lot of Turkish food in these here parts. The Turks are Germany's Mexicans. So as

Burrito : American Diet :: Döner : German Diet.
We have gotten so good that we make our own Turkish feasts at home with Köfte, yogurt sauce, eggplants, salads. Heaven. We shop almost everyday at the Turkish butcher and vegetable shop. On Tuesdays they have fresh fish. Everyday they have lamb that they will actually cut from a big side, along with a slab of beef that they grind right it in front of you. It's like traveling back to 1868. Did you know that there is one girl who works at the butcher, but she is only allowed to work the register and touch the chicken? The chicken has its own case away from the beef and lamb. That dirty bird.

There is this great bread at the Turkish vegetable shop. It's shaped like a beaver's tail and covered in Sesame seeds. it's soft, but crisps up easily if you put it in the oven. I do. I always rip a piece off and eat it before we put it in the oven. Sometimes two. When it comes out of the oven Alexander cuts it into slices. My heart sinks a little when he cuts it up. So tonight I requested no slicing. Seriously, it tastes better in uneven chunks.

Seljanka erinevad variatsioonid

Mis toote saad, kui võtad ühe osa solki ja ühe osa seljankat, need kokku segad, asja purki paned ning poeletile viid? Vastus: Soljanka.



Küsimus laiale ringile: mis kuradi asi on “soljanka”? Minule teada olevatel andmetel ei ole “seljanka” trademargitud ja selline nime solkimine (pun intended) on suht väärakas.

Muide, kes julgeks säärast kahtlase nimega asja süüa? Peale neljapäeva õhtust filmiõhtut minu pool soljanka maitsmine!

This is Cheerleader for, "I'm OK."

She was supposed to dismount to the front of the human pyramid, where two cheerleaders were ready to catch her, said the squad's cheerleading coach. But Yamaoka lost her balance and tumbled off the back, landing on her head.

When the pep band fired up SIU's fight song "Go Southern Go," Yamaoka gave a two-handed thumbs up from the gurney, then moved her arms - the only things not strapped down - in time to the music and cheered. After falling 15 feet and landing on her head, Yamaoka was motionless for a few minutes on the court, but says she recalls hearing SIU's fight song and couldn't resist leading the cheer as she was taken away in a brace.


"As long as my arms were functioning, I could do the fight song," a groggy Yamaoka said.

Pink Plastic Pigs

I would like to request that there be one pink plastic pig laying somewhere in every picture taken. You know, to show scale. It really takes what could have been an ordinary, throw-away photo and makes it a keep-sake. If you are not sold on this idea go to Feline Nursery and read "Tubes. Fish balls."




Because I liked the pigs so much, I was reminded of my own animals on a cutting board. These are from Christmas 2005. We have white cutting boards here because the wooden ones are hard to keep bacteria-free. Especially if there are moose humping on them.

You think you're so cute, don't you?

One day in Grade six I walked into my first period math class to see Juan Rivera there early, sitting alone by the window. When I walked in, Juan Rivera gave me the dirtiest look and said, full of scorn, ' you think you are so cute, don't you?' For most of my young school days I was a pretty popular girl. I was also a pretty, popular girl. I had a perm, Mang. I never had to deal with too much adversion. Hearing this from Juan Rivera changed the course of my life. He introduced me to self-contemplation and low self- esteem. That prick. Do I really think I am so cute? Am I full-of myself? What does everyone think of me? Do I act like I am better than everyone else?

Sometimes I think that maybe Juan was a genius. I have no shortage of examples of stories where I harass people because I know better than they do only to find out later I have no idea what I am talking about. I don't mean politics or science trivia or anything important- just the mundane stuff. i take that really seriously though.

Take Alexander, for example. He's german and he has what I thought were Euro-teeth. By Euro-teeth I mean not American teeth: factory-style chicklet teeth that are blindingly white and perfectly straight from bleaching and braces (like mine). He also has a front tooth that has a small brown line through it. One time it came out that he used to smoke. a lot. Naturally, i assumed that he had gotten this brown thing from smoking. I think I am so cute, don't I? I seem to remember that one time we were talking about smoking and I even said to him (baring my teeth and pointing to them) "See! See my teeth. I never smoked ever and they are really white and nice. Look what happens when you smoke!" He didn't say anything or even look at me strange because he is a better person than I am. Oh, I won that one. Yes. I am so righteous. I never smoked and I have perfect teeth! Not too long ago I was talking to Alexander's brother and flying a kite with my nephew who was running down the middle of a city street, the wrong way, trying to keep the kite up. Then, comes the famous story about how Alexander did the same thing as a kid. He was running so fast he smacked face first into the hood of a parked car and broke his front teeth. So, yeah. Not smoking. Flying a kite. That 'brown line' was the post holding the tooth together. You were right, Juan.




Today Alexander was at the dentist and they redid his front tooth since it hadn't been done for 30 years. They're all white now.

Mystery Solved: Germans are not eating as much "sausage" as I thought

Whenever I tell people that I am living in Germany they inevitably ask me how much beer and sausage I am eating. Presumably, that is all they are eating over here, while wearing lederhosen. While that is somewhat true- in Bavaria, I think the association of Germany with all things sausage is a little bit false.

Last week during a meeting with a German colleague we were discussing how great life/ food is in germany and she actually said this: (in the most stereotypical german accent you can imagine)
Most ov oll, I luf see zsausagez.

And then it dawned on me. She was talking about 'würst' which is the german word for sausage, but roughly covers about 29848329900 varieties of meats, sausages, spreads, cold-cuts, salamis, bolognas and on and on. Würst for them is all the stuff that you buy at a butcher that is not raw meat. You know at the grocery store in the US how there is a sweating deli case filled with mass-produced hams and deflated bologna? That's the US's poor excuse for what the germans call würst. We call it Boar's head.



All these years when people say that germans eat a lot of sausage I always pictured, you know, sausage. Lips, assholes and fat globules packed into edible casing. Casing. Turns out that is not exactly the case. I guess it's a little like how the eskamos have 100 different words for snow. It's all white stuff to us. There is, of-course, the small chance that everyone else already realizes this distinction. However, there is also the chance that I have just broke down a wall between American and German understanding.

Turkish Salgam- good for your Tumic

Last night with dinner I opted away from beer and tried a spicy, tall glass of Salgam, Turnip Juice. When in Rome, they say. Or, in this case, when at a Turkish restaurant in London do as the Turks would do if they were in Turkey. It was not as disgusting as one would assume, but not delicious by any means. It smells and looks like it could be blood. The taste is not quite as offensive, but if I were blind-folded and being tortured, forced to drink it, I might believe it if someone told me this was really peppered baby-lamb's blood.

When I asked the waiter what Salgam was and if I would like it, he said, " Juice from the turnip. very picy, good for your tumic." he was rubbing his belly so he really meant good for your stomach. Spicy and good for your stomach, eh? I asked if good for your stomach means- have to call out sick from work tomorrow- good for your stomach? Or fights cancer- good for your stomach? He just laughed. I ordered a glass. Spicy. This should have been the bloody mary. Tomato juice got nothing.

Apparently, Turnip juice is good for acne, liver, skin problems, bladder and can even help reduce underarm odor. Who knew. I could always use a little skin help. I am seriously thinking about ordering it again. I managed to swallow seven whole sips last night; and I have been to the bathroom about seven times already today. IT WORKS!