Frohe Weihnachten

Merry Christmas to everyone.  I've been having a good couple of weeks here across the pond entertaining Mom, showing her the sights, sampling the local fare, exploring various towns and their respective Christkindlemarkten, and generally tooling about.  We took a few days last week to visit Paris, because, well, if you're going to come to Europe, I think that's one of the places you've just got to experience.  My opinion only, I know, but hey it's my blog, too, so there.

Anyway, this is just a quick note to extend everyone my fondest wishes during the holidays, and to wish you all the best for the New Year.  Hope all is well, and have great day.  Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go put in "A Christmas Story" and start watching it over and over, just like I would if I were back home.  

Toodles.

Oh, and P.S. - If you hadn't figured it out yet, the post's title is German for Merry Christmas.

Procrastinating

Procrastinate - \prə-ˈkras-tə-ˌnāt, prō-\ - verb: to put off intentionally the doing of something that should be done.

Now, as anyone familiar with the Kitchen Saga knows, I am a natural at this particular activity.  But the hows, wherefores and other rules of the practice have always eluded me, as I've never needed to question them.  A thing that is innate often does not get explained because that would require thought where none is needed - it just is.  And don't worry, I'm not about to get all philosophical on you and try to figure things out now (or at least, I'm not to going to torture you with it).  Suffice it to say that instead of studying for my driver's test, I'm doing this instead.  

(Okay, I've been sitting here for like 20-30 minutes trying to think of a good segue from that last paragraph, and I just can't do it... here)

So as it snowed all last weekend, I think I can say that winter has officially come to Germany.  For two weeks now, the temperature has been where it seems to have been all last winter whenever I checked it, and that's right around freezing.  Starts out just below, goes up to just above, and pretty much stays within that small range the whole time.  I hope so, anyway.  I think my blood thinned out too much over the ten years I'd been in Carolina, but maybe it'll thicken up a little bit now.  

I'm encouraged by the fact that the only jacket I'm wearing is a thin running-type jacket from Add!da$.  I love this jacket.  Retains my body heat very well, and doesn't let very much, if any, wind through it.  Like I said, it's right at freezing every morning, and by the time I get to work the only body part that's cold is my face.  In fact, when the temp was still in the mid- to upper-single digits (celsius remember), I had usually worked up a little sweat by the time I made it to the office.  You get some funny looks when it's fairly cold outside and you've got a fan turned on you in the morning.

Well, that's really all I've got for now.  I know, it ain't much, but hey, look at the date just below this and realize, well, it's something at least.

Oh my God! A Post!

Yes, I'm aware that I've been remiss in my posting.  I don't know what to say other than there really hasn't been shit going on over here.  Or at least not that my limited writing skills could put across in some way that doesn't induce a coma, and that wouldn't be good for anyone.  

There are two or three items that I've wanted to write about, but my Muse has been conspicuously absent of late, which just adds to my lack of posting.  And now of course that I actually feel like writing a little, a buddy of mine is coming for a visit starting this weekend, and I'm busy planning and getting ready for our week of fun, adventure and, most likely, massive beer drinking.  Can you say, "Oktoberfest"?  

So I promise, there's (hopefully good) stuff to come, so just bare with me.  To give you a hint of things on the horizon, the picture to the left is from a short little day-trip I took yesterday to an area north of town called the Fränkische Schweitz [Fraynk*eesh*uh Shvites], or Franconian Switzerland.  It was absolutely gorgeous - just as pastoral and picturesque as you could want.  So there's something for you, right?  Hang in there, more to come.

It's Not Always Murphy

So I've been here for just short of three months now, and my language skills are nowhere near what I'd like them to be.  I'm not even half way through the first level of my Rosy Rock program (and not even using it every night like I should), nor have I signed up for a sprachschule ([shpraH*shoe*la] language school) yet, even though it would cost me nothing.  That being said, yesterday I had a very expensive lesson, all for just one word - schlüsseldienst [shlew*sel*deenst].  The meaning of this word?  Literally it translates to "key service", but it is understood as simply "locksmith".

Yep.  Locked myself out of the apartment.  So if stupid is as stupid does, well we know what that makes me, don't we?  Now in my defense (no I don't believe there is any, but what the hell - gotta keep true to my Devil's Advocate self), it's not as hard as you would think, as the door to my stairwell requires a key to enter.  It's not a knob that locks and unlocks, it's just a door with a lock, and if it shuts behind you and you don't have the key, well you'd be as screwed as I found myself.

Now, being the eternal optimist (don't laugh), I figure that the silver lining to this is that by the time I get back to the States, I'm going to be really good at the game of charades, 'cause that's what you're left with when the answer to your question "Sprechen Sie Englisch?" is "Nein".  I've actually kind of had fun a few times playing this game, but it pretty much sucks when you know that it's the only way you're getting in to your house short of demolishing a door.  And I didn't even want to try that, since it's a pretty solid door and my foot is just now getting better from the earlier incident of me pretending to still be young.

So that was my very expensive language lesson for the day, although it could have been more.  Seems that the price on some services over here goes down when you don't need a receipt or some other form of document that might prove that a transaction occurred.  Ah, good times.

Home, Sweet Home

Well, it took five offers, four negotiations, three contracts, and two scheduled closings, but finally, after four months on the market, I am now officially homeless (and there was much rejoicing  *yeeeeaaaaaa*).  I don't even know what to tell you at this point, I'm just happy it's over with.  That was a pretty big cloud over my head that I don't have to worry about any more.  So three cheers! to the folks who bought it, and a great big THANK YOU to my real estate dude, who kept me sane through this whole thing.  I'll miss the place a bit (not the landscaping), but I wonder how much of that is just 'cause it was my first.

An Afternoon in Bamberg

So as I mentioned, last weekend I decided that the foot was doing well enough that I could venture out and resume my burgeoning exploration of Bavaria.  Besides going back to Nürnberg or München (that's the real name of Munich) there are three places I really want to see, those being Bamberg, Würzberg, and Regensburg.  All three have huge amounts of history, beautiful architecture and are within a short train-ride of Erlangen.  So since Bamberg covered the smallest area, and would therefore entail the least amount of walking, I decided to start there.

The entire town is listed as a UNE$C0 World Heritage Site.  That's right, the whole place.  Not just a cathedral here, or a castle there - the whole, freaking town.  I won't go into the details, but there's lots of info on the town and its history here.  I also didn't get to cover as much of the town as I wanted, as my feet were killing me after only a few hours.  Not just the damaged one, either.  Cobblestone is not enjoyable to walk on.  So I missed a lot, and I'll just have to add this to the list of places to which I need to return.  I didn't even get to go to any of the nine breweries in town, which was obviously disappointing, but especially so since I'd heard some good things about one of the types of beer distinct to this town call rauchbier (smoked beer).

Some of the highlights of the day included Die Altes Rathaus, or town hall, as pictured below, from upstream, downstream, and a side view.

  

This place was built in 1456 in the middle of the river Regnitz on top of a bridge that was built in the 12th century, with the sides of the building painted in the 1700's (both sides are painted, I just didn't get a good shot of the other side).  Really cool place, and one of the best-known landmarks of the town.

Next up was the Bamberg Cathedral.  The original Dom (that's German for Cathedral) was built in 1007, but was destroyed by fire, so this one is only 750 some-odd years old, as it's the replacement (my apologies for the bad pic - I seem to have a knack for getting shots of things with the sun being in the worst possible position).  The tomb pictured below is inside the cathedral and holds the Holy Roman Emperor Henry II and his wife, who were responsible for the town being what it was back in the day.

                   

                  

I've got lots of other pics of inside the Dom, and I'll try and figure some good way to display them all as well.

Next to the Dom is the Neue Residenz, which housed the city's bishops from the 1700's.  The place is huge, and as you can see, the picture doesn't capture the entire thing.  The accompanying pic is of the Residenz' Rose Garden, a very pretty area with a cafe at one end (gotta get those tourist euros).

                  

One of the really cool things about this town is the river.  Very scenic, to the point that one section (as seen below) is called Little Venice.  That might be a tad presumptuous, I don't know (haven't made it to Italy yet), but it is very pretty, and I would love to live in one of the places right on the river.

And lastly, there is one final place that I did not get    to, as it was further up even higher hills than the ones to get to the Dom and the Residenz, but from afar looked very impressive.  That would be the Michalsberg monastery, as seen below.

So that was my day in Bamberg.  Like I said, I really need to go back, if for no other reason than the brauerei, but of course for more than that.  I find myself doing a lot of the same thing I did when I went to Paris last fall, and that's going to a lot of places, but never really going in them.  You can get a lot of good pictures, sure, but you don't really get the feel for a place and what it's all about.  I need to work on that.  It would probably make these a little more interesting for you, as well.

Cars

Okay, so I haven't shared anything for a while, but with the foot, there just wasn't that much going on.  For the next couple of weekends after the incident, I pretty much stayed at home and kept off of it as much as possible.  Turns out that there was nothing torn or broken or anything, really - just strained the tendons or whatever those things are in the foot, and it's just been a matter of time for it to heal.  I'm getting around on it pretty well now, and haven't even needed my unterarmkrücken - crutches, but not your normal crutches: they only extend to the forearms - since last Friday.  Saturday, I ventured up to Bamberg (more on that later), but that was probably pushing it  a bit, as was practicing with the team on Monday night.  I'm still mobile and it's getting better every day, but I need to pace myself a bit.  Hey, go figure - me with a pacing problem.  At least this time, it has nothing to do with alcohol consumption.

But the big thing today is this:

                                 

BOO-YAH!  That's right, I finally got a car today.  Pretty, isn't it?  That's a 2007 ßMW 325i right there, and for the next seven months, that baby's mine!  One of the guys at the office who was supposed to be here for two years had to go back to the States early, and he had leased the above car.  So since he had to go back, I was kind enough to take over the lease so he didn't have to pay for a car that was just sitting on another continent (big of me, wasn't it).  So I've got until January to enjoy it.  Heh-heh.  There will be further musings on the Autobahn (surprisingly, not all it's cracked up to be) but for now, let's just say that on the way home from Nürnberg I easily hit 180 kph (about 115 to you and me).

Have I mentioned that I like this place?

Tschüß

Which of These is Not Like the Other?

So here's a fun story.  I finally got to play in my first baseball game yesterday.  Of course I'm a little nervous, but what do you expect after not playing for twenty-some-odd years.  I just didn't want to screw up in the game and have everyone thinking, 'what the hell do we have this old fart out here playing for?'.  Hell, even the coach of the team is two or three months younger than I am.  But hey, he's playing, too, and the whole point of this league is to have fun.  This isn't one of those over-30 leagues back home where everyone acts like it could be their shot at the Show.  Seriously, that is taking things way over the top.

I was set pretty well for this game, though, so I was feeling good.  My hitting was good during warmups, and while the fielding still probably needs work, it's not any worse than anyone else on the team, and regardless, I was playing right field.  Yes, even in a country that doesn't really play baseball, I get put in the "safe" position where I can do the least amount of harm (S0sa didn't play there for the Cußs for no reason, you know).  

And when the game started, sure enough, someone lined one through the infield in my direction.  I think it was a good thing that it was a sharply hit ball, too, so I didn't really have time to think about it, I just fielded it.  And fielded it cleanly, thank  you very much, which wasn't as easy as it sounds due to the condition of the field.  One of the guys on the team who is from the Dominican, and knows a thing or two about the subject, commented that he'd seen better fields in Third World countries.  I tended to believe him.  So anyway, ball cleanly fielded, I, of course in my excitement proceeded to airmail the cut-off man.  No harm, no foul, though, as there was no one else on base, and there was backup there to keep the runner to a single.

So in the top of the second, it's my turn to bat.  With a righty on the mound I, in all of my switch-hitting glory, decide to turn around and go from the left side.  Now in BP, I had been hitting everything from both sides of the plate.  But I was also aware that I was going for some pitches that I had no business swinging at.  Sure, I could hit them, but there wasn't much on them, and I probably would have been out.  So I was going to make sure that I was waiting for my pitch.  Looked at a couple of balls, mixed in with two fouls, count stands at 2-2.  Wait for it, wait for my pitch.  Yep, I struck out looking.  Now in my defense, this was a strike that even Maddox and Glavine in their hey-day would have been embarrassed to have called a strike, it was so far outside.  But whatever, it was called and I was out.  0 for 1.

In the bottom half of the inning, our pitcher was fantastic and struck out the side, albeit with a little help from the ump - hey, at least he was calling it both ways, that's really all you can ask for.  So I get up to bat the next inning, and I'm thinking, 'okay, this time, don't just look at pitches.  If you can make contact with it, swing.'  Well, I would have no such luck, as this time around, he was nowhere close to the plate.  I might have fouled one back, but that was it.  Ball four, take your base.  Still 0 for 1, but at least my obp is .500.

Now, we'd been running on these guys all day.  The pitcher was incredibly slow to the plate, and the catcher had no gun whatsoever - rainbow city.  Hell, he could have gotten the ball to second faster by using the pitcher as a relay man.  That being said, I'm forty, still pretty much out of shape, and I was never the fastest guy in the world anyway.  Luckily for me, the guy behind me lines the first pitch into left-center, and I'm on second with no problem.  Well, there's a slight problem.  I'm pumped.  I'm excited.  I'm playing the game I love.  I can do this.  I can run on this guy.  He's horrible.  He's got no arm.  Piece of cake.  So with the first pitch, off I go.

Those of you who know me know that I'm kind of a moron.  For those of you who don't - well, I'm kind of a moron.  And unfortunately, I'm not talking about trying to steal, I'm talking about the execution thereof.  And oh, yeah, you guessed it - the catcher with the rag arm nailed my ass by about 1o feet.  There was no way I was safe.  They had me dead to rights.  But what did I do?  I tried to slide.  Very late.  And very badly (I never was very good at it, and that was two decades ago).  Basically, I set my foot against third base to where it couldn't go any further forward and then slammed all of my mumblemumble pounds into said foot in the act of "sliding".  Let's just say... ouch.

To make a long story short (yeah, yeah - too late), I was out of the game and I'm done with baseball for a few weeks.  It's all in my foot, thankfully, and I didn't do anything to my ankle.  The x-rays didn't show any fractures, so we're waiting a few days and then if there's no improvement, I'll have an MRI done.  I have a feeling I did something to the tendons and/or ligaments down there, but what do I know?  I've never done anything like this to myself before, so I have nothing to go on.  There's swelling, but not that much, and the colors you see in the picture didn't even show up until today (game was yesterday).  On the other hand, I don't bruise real easily (even cramming handle bars into my ribs last month on my way to the pavement didn't leave any marks), and yet, there's my foot in all it's glory.

Oh well, at least it gave me something to write about.

Sorry

So I know that I've been pretty unproductive lately, but when I just looked, I realized exactly how unproductive.  Three posts in a month and a half - wow. Yes, I suck, but you pretty much knew that one already.  It's not like I've not been doing anything, either, it's just that I'm having a hard time conveying the experiences in a manner that will do them justice.  I went to Köln [Kuln] - you know it as Cologne - for the evening about a week ago, for instance.  Cool town, tons of history (dating back to Roman times), and beautiful.  But that's all I've got to tell you about it right now - I can't come up with anything better yet.  Sickening.  So I swear, I'll try and get it together shortly.  I'm taking a few days off this week (my furniture is FINALLY arriving - it's only been close to eight f%&@ing weeks), so I'll try and at least update some things.  There's the baseball adventure, the car situation, Bergkirchweih experiences, fußball mania (it's Euro2008 here this month) - just lots of stuff going on.  So once again, pardon me.  I'm sorry.  Deepest apologies.  And I'll be back later, I swear.

Tschüß [chooss]

Apple Pie and Stuff

So thanks partly in fact to the fact that I don't really know hardly anyone around here yet (awwww... poor wittle Shteevie), I haven't gotten too homesick yet.  I know, it doesn't make any sense, but stay with me here - it will eventually.  I say that because I really haven't done that much of anything (and when I have, it's been fun), so when I'm not out somewhere, I'm sitting in my empty apartment with nothing to do besides surf the net or watch the one or two DVDs that I brought with me on the plane (my stuff apparently arrived in port today, so I may actually have furniture and more than a week's worth of clothes within a ten days or so - yea!!!). Therefore, it's a little piece of home, and I'm okay.

But deep down there must be some bigger yearning.  I say this because I was riding my torture machine home and I heard a sound that would normally make my skin crawl.  *tink*  But this time it was different.  *tink*  This time there was excitement.  *tink*  This time there was the sudden feeling of finding a long-lost treasure.  Yes, what I was hearing was a ball being hit by an aluminum bat.  *tink*  Now, like I said, normally that sound just makes me cringe.  It's not natural.  It doesn't belong with the game.  The game is meant to be played with wooden bats, not metal.  Besides the sound of a well-struck golf shot, and maybe the sound a bottle of Turk3y makes when it's opened for the first time, there's nothing quite like the sound of a wooden bat connecting with a baseball.  Pure magic.  

So when I got to where the sound was coming from, lo and behold, I find baseball being played.  Turns out that there is actually baseball in this town.  There is a local club team that has two different levels, plays games every weekend and practices twice a week.  And come the day after tomorrow, I'll be playing on one of those teams.  Now I know what you're thinking.  Comedy and baseball rarely mix, and while this will probably result in high hilarity if you like train wrecks, it won't be one of those time where the comedy works.  But dammit, I'm going to try.  

I might even be able to get away with it.  I'm going to be playing on the lower level team, which is the one for just having fun and enjoying the game.  And there's only three other American players on the team, so the fact that I grew up with the game may actually make up for the fact that I'm old and out of shape (torture machine not-withstanding).  It's like the language, except backwards - I'm fluent in baseball, so I don't have to think about what I'm doing, I can just do it.  And who knows - with a season of no pressure under my belt, I might even be able to move up to the 'good' team next year.

Random Thoughts

• So on the heels of my thinking, "Okay, now that I've gotten used to it somewhat, this bike thing isn't that bad", well of course I had my first mishap.  I guess it had to happen sometime, and it could have been much worse, but last night I hit the pavement for the first time.  I was on a little side street trying to find an address for a first aid class that you have to take in order to get your driver's license (and if you're going to be here for over six months, you have to get one) and I was ten minutes late to boot, so I was pretty frustrated at this point.  I had a little post-it note in my hand and was looking at the addresses on buildings, when a car turned onto the street ahead of me.  Now, I was in no danger of being hit whatsoever.  But unconsciously, with the one hand I had on the handle bars, I turned sharply and gripped the brakes.  The problem?  The hand I had on the handles was on the front brake side.  Yep, over the front I went.  Like I said, it wasn't that bad, but I've got a bruise on one side of my ribs that's pretty sore, and I ripped a pretty cool shirt that I had just bought within the last week or so.  No real damage to the bike, thankfully, considering how much I paid for that sob, but it still sucked.  Hopefully, I've got that out of the way now.

• I've noticed that dogs are extremely well-behaved over here.  A lot of the time, a person's dog will just be following along-side their owner without  a leash, and you can tell that there's not a chance that it's going to run off somewhere chasing whatever it's seen.  This morning I was sitting outside a cafe getting breakfast and a lady walked in with her dog behind her.  They asked her to leave the dog outside (now, that's not a given - had lunch yesterday at a table next to a lady with her dog inside the place - still very well-behaved, but inside none the less).  So she led her dog back outside, told it to lie down under a table next to the door, went inside, and the dog - well, he just laid there.  Now I was at the table right next to the dog, with a plate full of food, and he acted like he didn't know I was there.  I guess the best way I can think to explain it is that the dogs here are all just like seeing-eye dogs as far as their demeanor.  Very calm, very well-trained.

• The drink situation here just befuddles me (yes, I said befuddled - get over it).  As I've said, it's like they don't really trust the water that comes out of the taps, but at the same time they will swear to the quality of their water treatment system.  So in restaurants, they just don't do glasses of water.  If you do order water, it'll be bottled water (quick side note - I was wrong on the term for non-soda water.  The correct term is 'ohne kohlensaure', without bubbles; mit, ohne - with, without; pretty easy, really, if I'd actually bother to study the freaking language).  And it won't be cheap.  In fact, it seems that it costs the same if want juices, sodas, water, whatever - including beer.  For a half-liter bottle of any of them, it's around €3.20.  Yep, five bucks just for the drink.  So you can understand why I've been drinking a lot of beer - might as well, right?  Now, this is only in restaurants - in the grocery stores and Getränkte Märkten ([ge-train-ke mairk-ten] drink markets - like beer stores, but with soft drinks and juices as well) they are actually very reasonably priced.  Of course, now that I think about it, the prices in the restaurants also include the 19% VAT (value-added tax) and service.  On the other hand, so does the food, and the Mexican buffet I went to yesterday was only €5.90.  Like I said, befuddled.

Nobody Expects the Spanish Inquisition!

I know, I know.  It's been awhile.  I've discovered that this is harder than it looks, and it's been a busy week or so.  But I'm sitting here watching the Cubs, so I thought I'd give it a stab.

Today's topic:  torture.  No, I'm not going to get all political on you, that's my brother's job.  I'm talking about a device that they have here that would do the Spanish Inquisition proud.  I'm not quite sure what the English term is, but here they call it a "bicycle".  

Now, I knew that I was going to be getting one of these before I even got here.  I almost bought one in the States before I left, but then I realized that if I did that it wouldn't get here until the end of this month or so, and I needed some form of transportation before that.  Since I haven't got up the courage to drive here as yet (and gas is around $9 a gallon), I went and got me a torture machine.  I say torture machine because I haven't been on one for around, oh I don't know, twenty five years or so, nor am I in the best of shape regardless.  So yeah, after the first torture session, my ass hurt.  A lot.  And my ass continued to hurt for around two weeks.  And my legs are still pretty much jello.  But I know it's good for me in the long run, and quite frankly, I don't have much of a choice.

That's a picture of my tormentor above.  It's a trekking bike made by Winora, called the Jamaica.  24 speeds, good suspension on the wheels as well as the seat, and the widest seat that they had available.  Now that I've gotten a little more used to it, I gotta say, not a bad bike.  Of course, at the prices they charge for bikes here, it better be.  It's not a hundred percent, but I'm pretty sure that I could have gotten about four good bikes in the States for what I paid for this one.  Part of me wonders whether it's just simple supply and demand working it's magic, with the popularity of bikes here.

Bikes are huge in this town, and I mean huge.  You can say a place is bike-friendly, but you haven't seen anything until you come to Erlangen and check out how the bicycle fits into this town's life.  There are just over 105,000 people here and there are 85,000 bicycles (yes, 105 and 85 - that is not a typo).  However, the place is also designed to accommodate a lot of bikes.  The sidewalks are wide enough for both pedestrian and bicycle traffic, and color coded to boot - red brick for bikes, regular concrete for pedestrians.  And where the sidewalks aren't wide enough there are bike lanes on most of the roads, even though people on bikes go pretty much wherever they want to go anyway.  

And the interesting thing is that they get away with it.  Bikes really do seem to have priority here.  If you're riding on some of the smaller roads in the center part of town where I live that don't have enough room on the sidewalk, or no real bike lane, cars behind you simply follow you (busses, too - that's not unnerving or anything).  They don't honk or tailgate or anything, they just follow until they can either pass you or you can get on the sidewalk.  It takes a bit of getting used to, really.  I still don't trust that a car won't run me down, but every time I get in a situation where I'm waiting on a car, they're slowing down to let me pass first.  It's weird.

So that's that from Germany for today.  I know this one wasn't as interesting as (hopefully) the previous posts, but again, I'm no writer, so give me a little slack.  I'm trying to figure out how to best describe the local beer festival, and when I do that, I'll be back.  Don't say you weren't warned.

Yeah, like that

So here's an annoying little thing that I've run into a couple of times - the water situation.  It seems that they don't drink water here like we do in the States.  By that, I mean that if you go into the restaurants, cafes and whatnots, you just don't get a glass of water like you do in the US almost by default.  You won't find a water fountain anywhere, and they don't even drink it out of the faucets at home.  Even in McD0na1d's (don't start - I've only been a couple of times, and none since I got here for good) if you ask for water, it's going to be bottled water.  And they don't even do that as much as we do.  They're much more into juices and other fruity soft drinks (can you say Fanta!), and they love C0ke and C0ke Lite.  Now here's the rub.  When you do order a bottle of water, you have to be aware of another little cultural difference as well:  mit kohlensaure (I'll spare you the normal phonetics, as I just don't know).  

Let me explain in a way that you'll understand if you're one of those people who weren't born in the South, but moved there for whatever reason.  When you first got there, did you ever go into a restaurant and order iced tea?  And when you got it, you naturally sweetened it up to your liking, just as you'd always done wherever you'd come from?  Yeah, you know what happened next.  You not only got the sugar you put in, but the huuuge amounts of sugar that they insist on adding in order to make it that viscus syrup that they call sweet tea (still shocked that there aren't more diabetics in the South).  

Well, mit kohlensaure is kind of like that, except with gas.  I'm not talking about the kind you excrete behind you, but just normal carbonation.  Yes, mit kohlensaure means 'with gas' as in soda water.  That's right, they love their soda water here, and unless you pay attention, that's what you're getting.  Now granted, the stuff's not going to put you into insulin shock like twice sweetened tea, but it's a rude little surprise when you're expecting plain ol' water.  You can't even tell by looking at the bottle, because it just doesn't bubble up.  I suppose it would if you shook it up to check, but if you remembered to do that, you'd just read the label (very small print, but if you're looking for it, quite obvious once you know the term).  

So that's the lesson for the day:  Beware of mit kohlensaure, and look for stille wasser [shtil-uh voss-air] on the label, or ask for table wasser [tab-el voss-air - and that's tab, not tayb].

'Til next time, Auf Wiedersehen.

A Day in the Park

Well, it's Sonntag (Sunday - [zon-tagk]) here in the new home, and what a gorgeous day.  It's going to be mostly sunny with a high around 19 (yes, Celsius - give me a break, I've got to learn this stuff), there's virtually no wind, and it's just beautiful.  Right now I'm sitting in the middle of the Schlossgarden Universitäte (University Castle-garden - [shloss-gar-ten oon-ee-fair-zee-tate].  Yep that's it, just sitting, enjoying the day.  And really, on a Sunday, there's not much else to do.  The only thing open on Sundays in this country are some restaurants, bakeries, and other various cafes, as well as the gas stations.  Unlike in the US, they take their relaxation seriously here, and they don't want it infringed upon.  Oh my God, you may say.  that's such a waste of time.  You could be getting so many things done, you say.  Yeah well, get over it.  Relax and enjoy the day.  And everyone here is doing just that.  Reading on a blanket in the sun, playing frisbee, knocking around the shuttlecock (no nets, just hitting the little badminton thingy) - that's all, just enjoying the day.  I gotta say, it's pretty cool.  (Okay, one little nit-pick, and that's probably 'cause I'm new at this 'nature' stuff - just had to flick an ant or two off of my computer, so I'll be swiping at phantom ants on my body all day now.  Guess I need a blanket for theses park ventures.)

I'll tell you, after the past couple of days, I need the relaxation.  It gives me a chance to unwind and get my bearings on where I am.  It's remarkable how little I've actually done, and yet how stressed and frustrated I am.  Case in point:  Friday.  I was at my apartment waiting on the phone guy to come and hook up and activate my phone and internet service.  The window I was given was from 8 to 4 (and you thought the cable people were bad), so I had to be there potentially the whole day.  Now, my landlord said that when he got his stuff hooked up, the guy showed up at around 10.  Well, he obviously doesn't know me and Murphy.  Yep, the guy never showed.  Now, to the phone company's credit everyone seemed genuinely surprised when told of this, but that doesn't do me a damn bit of good, now does it.  So I spent the entire day in a completely empty apartment - no internet, no phone (don't even have a cell yet), no connection to the outside whatever.  Couldn't do a damned thing.  Luckily, I did bring my computer with me, as well as a couple of books to read, so I had music and something to keep me occupied.  But I couldn't even go to lunch, because you know if I did, that's when the guy shows up.  Luckily for me, my landlord showed up and I was able to go get some food at around 3, but still - whole day basically wasted, and not a thing I could do about it.

Anyway, I'm done bitching for now.  For now, mind you.  There are a couple of things that I'll get off of my chest, but I'll save those 'til later.  And keep in mind that while I may bitch, so far I wouldn't miss this for anything.  I'm guessing that the initial two weeks or so are going to be the hardest, getting everything set up and getting myself in a routine of some sort.  That's one of the big reasons that I made sure that I don't have to start work until the middle of the month.  Well, okay, that and the local beer festival that starts on Thursday.  More on that and other stuff later on.

Auf Wiedersehen.

Let the Games Begin

I've made it.  I arrived in Erlangen two days ago after a couple of little adventures and Murphy reminding me that he's still there.  In retrospect, I suppose it's a wonder I'm even alive, seeing as I should have died from alcohol poisoning thanks to my friends sending me off in style, but what're you going to do?  All in all, it's been an interesting few days.

Let's start with the sendoff.  This was weeks in the making, as I don't think I could have crammed another ounce of activity into my schedule since I got back from my recon trip earlier this month.  Between training classes and cleaning up at work, getting ready to move, and selling the house (and all the fun that goes with that - show of hands, who else hates inspectors), I didn't have a moment to myself.  

So when last weekend rolled around, and it's all about me, I was ready to get stupid.  Rest assured, mission accomplished.  After having a good day at my friend's golf course, the party in my honor started.  I'm pretty sure there was some food there, and pretty good stuff from the looks of it, but I was all about the booze.  Now this is the point where another facet of the name became evident.  I was definitely the dog's ass, but it wasn't because the sun was shining on it.  Apparently, if you were female and single, I was making a pass at you.  Ah, good times all around.  And I take no blame for this, either.  If I hadn't been given a naughty blowup doll as a going-away present, and then been forced to make and partake of several shots, then there's no way that sex even crosses my mind.  I'm sticking to that, and there's nothing you can do to change my mind.

So after making it through the next day, and completing the last few errands that I needed to do before I left, I got to the airport right around when I wanted to, ready to embark on this grand adventure o' mine.  Travel arrangements made, itinerary in bag, everything taken care of.  I approach the ticket counter and hand the lady behind the counter my passport.

"Yes, I'm here to check in for the 5:20 to Munich, flight 429."

"I'm sorry, sir, I don't see your name on the passenger list."

These are not words you want to hear upon arriving for a flight that takes off in two hours.  But, no, this can't be right.  Like I said, I've got my itinerary in my bag.  Well, I'll show her.  I'll just get out that piece of paper and prove her wrong.

"No, no.  It's listed right here.  Flight 429, leaving May 29th, at 5:20." 

It hit us both at about the same time.  If you haven't seen it yet, look at that last sentence again.  Yep, that's right.  I'd shown up for my flight a month in advance.  Not really, of course, but that's what it amounted to.  How the hell this happened I have no idea, but at this point, it didn't matter two shits how, just that it was happening.  Well, a frantic phone call to the travel agent ensued, and lucky for me, there were seats left on the flight, and everything was good.  Turned out that the same was true for both the train from Munich as well as the hotel.  Granted, I'll have to return the train tickets somehow (since I didn't get them from the train people in Germany, I couldn't just exchange them),  but hey, worst case, I'll just make sure I'm in Munich on the 29th just to travel here again.

The train ride was fairly interesting as well.  You'd think that I'd quit assuming how things work by now, but no.  I was figuring that a first class ticket got you a big comfy chair and a meal.  Guess again.  Big comfy chair, check.  Meal, not so fast.  Yep, you gotta pay for meals in first class.  Now, they're not bad at all (and I ate a dish with cucumbers in it, and liked it - go figure) and not even that expensive, but come on!  It's first class, for Pete's sake.  You should get something other than the big comfy chair, surely.  Come to find out that it also gets you a seat.  Yes, that's right, a seat.  

You see, if you go second class, that gets you on the train, but it doesn't guarantee you a seat.  You have to also purchase a reservation, and that is what gets you the seat.  Same thing with first class - you need a reservation in addition to the ticket to get a seat, but the catch is that you can't get a reservation on the day of purchase for second class, just for first.  Couldn't make it simple, could they?  Now it turned out that the train wasn't even close to full, so getting a seat would have been no problem, but how are you supposed to know that in advance?  I'm guessing experience, and I bet it's the kind of experience that has you standing someplace for a three hour train ride.

So anyway, that's all for now.  I'm here, I'm rested (I think), and I'll have further stories later on.  Gotta go drink some bier.  Auf Wiedersehen.

An Introduction

Guten Tag und willkomen! Those of you who know me have been asking many questions and wanting to be kept up to date on my assignment to Germany with my company. Well, for one reason or another the days have turned to weeks, have turned to months, and I still haven't gotten started yet to let you know what's up. But now, thanks to the wonder of modern travel, coupled with my inability or desire to sleep on a plane, I've finally had a chance to start things up. So either don't say you weren't warned, or be careful of what you wish for, whichever suits your fancy.

As a kind of brief introduction, let me explain this here thing before we go any further. And yes, this is also an out for you if you so choose. I can get to rambling sometimes, and maybe you'll come to decide that you just don't care to read my droning. I completely understand. I get tired of myself sometimes, but unfortunately, I can't tune me out.

So back to the intro. I work for a global energy company, and as I said above, I have been given the opportunity to work in Germany for two and a half years. Pretty cool, huh? Well, I used to live by Murphy's Law, and was convinced that the dude hated my guts. But over the years, after things like hitting the winning square on a Super Bowl pool (the only square I bought, and worth a tidy little sum) and winning a five-day Carribean cruise, I've revised that a bit and decided that I'm more like a blind squirrel - every once in a while I find a nut. And let me tell you, Germany's some big nut. Unfortunately (or maybe not - blind squirrel doesn't really translate), somebody's already claimed a blog with that name. So instead of the squirrel, I've decided to go with the dog's ass that the sun shines on every now and then. Turn it to German, and voila! Der hundepo (dare hoont-eh-poh, phonetically). That's me - the dog's ass.

First off, a ground rule and a couple of warnings. I will be using no (real) names in this thing, so if you know me or know any of the other subjects of whom or which I am writing, please respect that fact in your comments, and don't spill the proverbial beans in regards to identity. This is for various reasons, but mainly privacy concerns for myself and others. So keep that in mind, and we'll be cool. As for the warnings, these are more for your sake than mine. First, you're going to notice that I throw in a lot of asides (you know, the stuff in parentheses). I realize that this can be a bit irritating, and I'm trying to cut down on them. Hey, I'm an accountant, not a writer. Cut me some slack. The same goes for punctuation. I realize that most of it is atrocious, but I'm trying to convey my thoughts in writing as if I were there talking to you. So if I'd pause while talking, there'll be a comma or some other thing. I don't care if it's grammatically correct or not, that's how I talk. Also, I'm going to be throwing in a ton of German (with pronunciations following). At first, anyway, this will be more for my sake than yours. I'm trying to learn the language, and any usage I can get is helpful. Deal with it. Also, I'm going to be getting one, but right now I don't have a keyboard or computer that has umlauted letters (you know, letters with the dots above them) or a couple of the other special characters used in German. My favorite is this one that looks like a funky capital B, but is pronounced as "ss", but I don't know what it's called.

I can tell you now, learning the language is going to be a bitch. Despite the fact that English is primarily a Germanic language, I haven't had hardly any exposure to it in real life, the way you run into Spanish, or even French. I've found that the ability to mimic, say, a Frenchman's English helps immensely with your own pronunciation of French. Unfortunately, I've not known any Germans in the US, so there's been no one to mimic. Just being here for even a day, though, has made me feel a little better. I still don't know shit, but just being immersed in it makes me a little more comfortable about knowing that I'll be able to pick up the pronunciation with time.

So that's what this thing will be about - my life in Germany. Experiences, anecdotes, impressions of things, places, and people I've met, that sort of thing. I'm here now for a week in order to look for an apartment, set up a bank account, and other stuff to get ready for the actual move, which is targeted for the end of April. Since I'm so late in starting I'll need to catch you up on some of the stuff that's happened to this point, but I'll try to be a little more succinct with those topics. I also may not be posting on a regular basis until I get back here for good, as picking up everything you own and moving it half way around the globe can be a tad time consuming. But I'll do my best, and I appreciate all the feedback that you'd care to give me. It's pretty much validation for what I'm doing and I'm shallow like that. So 'til next time, Auf Wiedersehen (owf vee-der-zehn)!

It's Alive!

Finally, I have created this damn blog. Real posts to follow, as soon as I figure out why the f%&#ing add image button isn't working for me. Personally, I think its my computer, but what do I know.