Sunday, April 30, 2006

Oh, horrifying, endless horrors without end!!!

This weekend, I learned an interesting German saying from Bizarro Mom's husband aka Sydney's Dad aka The One For Whom I Need A Name, But Am Unable To Come Up With Anything Creative.

Here goes:

(to my dear German readers - feel free to correct me if I'm off)

"Besser ein Ende mit Schrecken als ein Schrecken ohne Ende."

It's perfect.

"Better an end with horror than a horror without an end."


"Better a horrifying end than an endless horror."

Sure, horrible ends are, well, horrible. But sometimes that's the only option. And no one wants to live with a life-long horror.

Katinka-dabogana Countdown: approximately 9 days, 11 hours and 48 minutes.

Saturday, April 29, 2006

Driver's License Test Questions

Q: Bis zu welcher Höhe darf die Ladung nicht nach vorn über das Fahrzeug hinausragen?
(Until which height is allowed the cargo not over the front of the car to stick out?)
A: 2,5 m. Yeah? And what if it sticks out 2,500008 m.? Do I get another PUNKT?

Q: Was kann bei einem Kraftfahrzeug zum Qualmen des Dieselmotors führen?
(What can on a vehicle to smoke of the Diesel motor lead?)

Q: Warum muss die Bremsflüssigkeit nach Anweisung des Fahrzeugherstellers ausgetauscht werden?
(Why must the break fluid according to instructions of the auto manufacturer changed be?)
A: I wouldn't even know the answer to this question if it were in English!!!

Q: Die Scheibenwischer an Ihrem Pkw funktionieren nicht. Was kann die Ursache dafür sein?
(The windshield wipers on your [formal] car function not. What can the cause there for be?)
A: Who gives a *bleep*???

Q: Bei welchen Drogen kann schon einmaliger Konsum zu vorübergehender Fahruntüchtigkeit führen?
(By which drugs can already one-time consumption to temporary driving inability lead?)
A: I got a fever, and the only prescription is more hookah!

Lyric of the day: "Baby, you can drive my car... and yes, I'm gonna be a star. Baby, you can drive my car, and maybe I'll love you. Beep beep, mmm, beep beep, yeah." (Thanks to the Beatles!)

Katinka-dabogana Countdown: Approximately 10 days, 18 hours, 51 minutes.

Super-Critical Translation Project (please pass the salt)

Being the sophisticated English-speaking international business woman that I am, I often receive critical translation projects, and today was no exception. The project? Translating next Tuesday's cafeteria menu into English because the BenQ CEO from Taiwan is coming to Kamp-Lintfort that day. *gulp*

As if I have nothing better to do than sit at my desk and try to figure out whether "gebratene Puten" means "roasted turkey hen" or "fried turkey hen." And believe me, there's a difference. What if the CEO doesn't eat fried stuff? What if he orders "roasted turkey hen" cause that's what's on the menu, and then has a heart-attack cause it's fried? Is it my fault? Will I lose my job?

Hmm... maybe I'll then receive a new Super-Critical Translation Project. Like translating directions to the nearest hospital into English.

I kind of wanted to mis-translate the menu or add random dishes and items just to throw things off and make things interesting, but decided not to.

CEO: "I ordered fetuccini alfredo with peppered chicken! What's this funky-looking piece of meat?"
Waitress: "Um, that's Curry Wurst. It's what you ordered."
CEO: "No, I
didn't order that. Can't you read the menu?"
Waitress: "I
am reading the menu!!"
CEO: "You're fired!"

My Boss: "Mary, we need to talk... please step into my office."
Mary: "Darn, I was afraid you'd say that..."


Tuesday, April 25, 2006

My Emita, Part II

There was once a sweet las named Emita
Who sent her sister a postcard each week-a.
She was freakishly tall...
But then, aren't we all?
How dearly I love my lil' chica.


... cause writing in rhyme and making jokes out of semi-serious issues somehow makes things less stressful.

There was a young man from the Ruhr
Who was chatty and quirky galore.
At first it was fun,
'Til the stalking begun...
So girls tore for the nearby-est door.

There was a young gal from Neukirchen
Who appeared gentle, sweet, and quite classy,
Until pushed and annoyed
By a strange local boy...
Her behaviour's become rather nasty.

This gal has a dear friend in Texas
Who agrees all boys do is upset us.
So they vented and laugh-ed,
As a clear plan was draft-ed...
Escaping to Italy's a definite must.

Monday, April 24, 2006

Wraps = Salami Tacos?

Aww, I miss my Texas co-workers (well, most of them). :) Got an e-mail from Jen the other day describing a typical scenario in the dynamic HCBC Office life: Jen and Shelby having lunch together and laughing hysterically, people dropping by one another's offices to chat, and Kenny making goofy comments and observations.

Here's what Jen wrote me:

"I made roast beef wraps for lunch one day and brought one for Shelby to try. Now, these are very clearly in the category of a "wrap." It’s spinach, red pepper, and roast beef wrapped up in a tortilla. Pretty simple. And wraps are a pretty commonly known type of food stuff, right? I mean, everyone has wraps…Subway, KFC, Burger King, you name the place, they have a wrap. So, we’re sitting here eating the wraps and Kenny walks by and stops in and looks at them and says, "Oh! Salami Tacos!" Shelby and I just look at each other and die laughing thinking that he’s joking, but no, he’s not joking, "salami taco" is really the very first thing that popped in his head. We were like, " about a wrap?" He’s like, "Oh yeah, I guess you could call it that." Right, "salami taco" makes so much more sense, sorry to use such a misnomer as "wrap."*

The problem with Kenny is that he frequently says such absurd things, and you sometimes can't tell whether or not he's joking. He must have had tacos on the brain that day. See what daily dosages of Tobasco sauce and Guadalajara over the years can do to you...

*thanks to Jen for the contribution!

Lyric of the day, for old times sake, not because I'm into country music: "Cadallac, black jack, baby meet me out back, we're gonna boogie. Hey, get down, turn around, go to town - boot scootin' boogie." (Thanks to Brooks and Dunn!)

Sunday, April 23, 2006

The Boy Update Post

Ah, boys. Whether or not I've found a German boy is a frequently asked question, so I thought I'd give an update (and maybe even stand on my little soapbox for a while - why the heck not?). Plus, I've felt a little pushed, challenged, and put on the defensive in this area lately.

Let's put it this way: the answer to 97.83% of the guy-questions is a resounding "no." And as far as I know, no one whom I'd be interested in is interested in me at the moment.

My goal for being here is not to find a man. Not to be presumptuous, but if I wanted to settle down with someone, I would have stayed in the States. I'm not in any way saying I had a ton of options in the States, or that I left a trail of broken hearts by moving here... what I am saying is this: had boys been my priority, I wouldn't have moved here.

The minute I open my mouth and say words like "Germany" or "overseas" or "missionary" to American boys where there's some degree of mutual interest, the results are identical: they go tearing for the nearest exit. Unrequitted love. Inevitable. I sometimes feel I had to choose, in a way, between two very different dreams and paths.

So, I weighed the options, made a decision, and am running with it.

What's the point? Let's be redundant for the sake of hammering home the point: I didn't move to Germany to chase or find guys. That's never been the goal or motivation, and never will be. Sure, it'd eventually be nice to find someone, but there are other things I need to first learn, experience, deal with and take care of.

So it is.

And so it will go.

*gazes up into sky and steps off the soapbox*

Lyric of the day: "...lend me some fresh air... show me the back door... please open the window..." (Thanks to Alanis).

Friday, April 21, 2006

Duzen vs. Siezen

German is a language with both formal and informal versions of "you." For all my Spanish-speaking or Spanish-learning friends in Texas, it's comparable to the "tu" vs. "usted."

In German, it's "du" informally and "Sie" formally.

Sometimes it's difficult knowing what to say to whom. As a general rule, when you meet someone your age or older, you use "Sie." Normally the older of the two will initiate the "duzen" - give the younger person permission, in a way, to make the transition from "du" to "Sie."

People in Germany are generally more formal than in the States... when you first meet someone, you always say "Herr or Frau So-and-So" (Mr./Ms./Mrs. So-and-So). At first I felt weird when people twice my age addressed me as "Frau Barber", but I've gotten used to it now. The other day, as a matter of fact, I was actually a little taken aback and felt like things were moving too fast when someone I'd just met called me "Mary" right off the bat.

There are currently duzen vs. siezen issues with one co-worker in particular, whom we'll call Michael Mustermann.* He's in a different department, so I don't have too much contact with him... but enough contact to where I think we should duz eachother. He's one of the higher-up bosses, and older (40?) so it's his decision whether or not we take that step.

Whenever I write him, I write "Herr Mustermann" in order to be respectful, but then sign "Mary", hoping he'll take the hint that he can call me by my first name. Which he never does.

The confusing thing about him is that he communicates a strange mixture of the two: he'll sometimes siez and sometimes duz. Instead of writing "Frau Barber" or "Mary", he always writes "Mary Barber." He signs his own e-mails "Michael Mustermann" as well (as opposed to "Herr Mustermann" or "Michael"). Mixed signals! Not fun!

Unfortunately, there seem to be no set rules on when to duz and when to siez. I thought that everything in Germany was "geregelt"... maybe I've found an exception! :)

*name slightly altered to protect privacy

Lyric of the day: "Why, why do I try to change you? Try to change you when you really don't want me to? Why, why do I try to love you? Try to love you when you really don't want me to?" (Thanks to Alanis!)

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Happy Eastern!

In German, "Easter" is "Ostern" (not "Oster"). That is, it has an 'n' on the end. Volli sent me an Easter greeting in English and wrote "Happy Eastern", which I got a kick out of. :)


Easter this year was crazy! 'Twas my first Easter away from my family... but the whole week was so busy, and there was so much going on, that I didn't even have time to feel homesick.

Here are the high-lights, in chronological order...

1. finishing our forecast in world-record timing, and taking off early from work on Thursday!

2. singing in the hospital on Thursday... I managed to sing Alto, which was interesting.

3. listening to the kids who'd been through a Bible Class give their testimonies and talks on various spiritual topics during the Good Friday service.

4. chickening out during the Good Friday service and singing Soprano instead of Alto at the last minute... it takes major concentration and practice to sing against other voices, especially when you're the only one and you have no experience. Bleh.

5. Bizarro Mom's Herrencreme - rum pudding with chocolate chunks and raisins. Mmm...

6. playing a card game similar to Nertz with the kids.

7. talking with my Mamita on the phone.

8. having both Monday and Friday off.

9. being a completely lazy bum on Saturday... lounging around in my pajamas, reading, writing, and drinking hot chocolate most of the day.

10. being at the right place at the right time. Saturday evening, as I was playing the piano at church, the lights suddenly went out and I heard someone saying "Hallo?" from the other room. Bizarro Mom's husband (I need a name for him, but I can't come up with a decent one!) was there, and one of the hoses had burst as he was filling the baptismal with water. So, I was able to help repair it.

11. watching several kiddos be baptized during the Easter Service! :)

12. having the job of handing the kiddos towels as they left the baptismal/stage.

13. singing "Vater, unser Vater" during the Easter Service.

14. having "aha!" moments and realizations.

15. going out to lunch with Bizarro and the family after church... they had relatives from all over the map come visit, and everyone was surprisingly normal. :)

16. riding in an Audi TT.

17. learning from Sydney how to drive stick-shift on the tractor.

18. seeing an Easter Bonfire.

19. testing how fast the tractor will go with Sydney... we made it to 21.6 km/h. And it was all legal, of course.

Lyric of the day: "Deine Herrschaft soll kommen. Das, was du willst, geschehen. Auf der Erde, im Himmel sollen alle es sehen. Vater, unser Vater, alle Ehre Deinem Namen. Vater, unser Vater, bis ans Ende der Zeiten. Amen."

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Am Not.

Creatures can't be creature-comforts;
A Fury oughtn't be idolized.
The only angels are in Heaven;
An imbecile is all but wise.

Convalescents are not healers-
They belong not on a pedestal.
Gaping, barren voids are common,
But made not by Another whole.

This tiny halo sits quite crooked;
Faults infest and are innate.
Adjustment is a daily feat-
Be wary whom you emulate.

Monday, April 17, 2006

Blog Updates and Reconstrution

Updates are as follows...

  • There's now a list of the primary blog characters. The purpose here is twofold: to introduce characters to the new reader, and to help the current reader avoid any character confusion.

  • There's also a FAQ (frequently asked questions) section. If I've left anything out, let me know.

    The links to these two sections will appear at the bottom of every blog entry, as well as in the sidebar.

  • I've moved any writing having to do with music to a new page, Majors and Minors. This way, you won't have to be bored or annoyed with my Constantine ramblings (he quit his band, by the way, and is going solo!). When this page is updated, I'll post a note/link for anyone who's interested.

    Ah, spring cleaning. Unfortunately my spring cleaning is limited to my blog and my harddrive. I'm still accepting applications for a personal assistant.

    Lyric of the day: "I predict a riot! I predict a riot!" (Thanks to the Kaiser Chiefs)
  • Sunday, April 16, 2006


    No matter what country you're in, children remain the same bizarre little creatures. Today, a couple of German kids asked me the same types of questions that American kids (and a Swiss kid on a flight from Dallas to Zuerich) have asked me.

    Kid: "Do you have a sister?"
    Mary: "Yes, I have three, actually..."
    Kid: "Where do they live?"
    Mary: "They live in America... very far away from here."
    Kid: "Does that mean you can speak American?"
    Mary: "I am American... and yes, I sometimes speak English."

    Is my German really that good? No. Does the kid think I'm a German? I think not. Then again, Americans aren't the only foreigners here in Germany. Maybe she thought I was from Tahiti or Myanmar.

    Then the questions as they dropped me off...

    Kid: "Is that where you live?"
    *points to my appartment complex*
    Mary: "Yup, that's where I live."
    Kid: "Is that where your mommy lives?"
    Mary: "No... my mommy lives across the Atlantic Ocean. She kicked me out of the house because I misbehaved and picked my nose instead of eating my vegetables." *sniff sniff*

    Actually, I didn't say that. :)

    And another...

    Kid: "Do you like Mr. X.?"
    Mary: "Um, no."
    Kid: "Oh. Well, then do you have a husband?"
    Mary: "No."
    *hopes that blunt un-expounded answers will bore the child enough to change the topic*
    Kid: "Oh. Well, do you have a boyfriend?"
    Mary: "No."
    Kid: "Oh. How old are you?"
    Mary: "Thanks for boosting my self-esteem, kid."

    Actually, it was rather amusing and my self-esteem was in no way affected.

    Quote of the Day: "Happy Eastern!" (Thanks to Volli)

    Saturday, April 15, 2006

    And the Biomuell Saga continues...

    There a new twist in the Biomuell Saga!

    [aside: yes, it's pathetic... another entry devoted to Biomuell. It's just that the whole phenomenon and disposal process is so darn fascinating.]

    At church last weekend, a friend, Beatrice*, said she had a gift for me. In a Mary-Poppins-like-style, she reached into her purse, and lo and behold: trashbags! But not just any trashbags... trashbags made especially for Biomuell!

    Trashbags are better than the little tupper-ware containers I've been using for various reasons:

    1. they contain less air, which will hopefully result in a quick and painless Biomuell-suffocation and thus the inability to escape and kill me in my sleep.

    2. un-aesthetic environment (as opposed to the clear tupper-ware containers allowing a nice view of my appartment), which will hopefully result in Biomuell boredom and eventual desperation.

    3. the trashbags themselves are biodegradable, which means I can simply throw them away. Of course, they don't last as long as "normal" trashbags... but that's the only precaution.

    Thank you Beatrice! How can I ever repay you and thank you? Reeses Peanut Butter Cups, perhaps? :)

    Though I joke about Biomuell, it really is distressing when I take it out every week... it's like parting with a dear pet, in a way.

    *name changed to protect privacy

    Formula of the day: "=WENN(ISTFEHLER(SVERWEIS($B18;'UMTS (29548)'!
    $B:$T;E$106;0));;SVERWEIS($B18;'UMTS (29548)'!$B:$T;E$106;0))"
    (Thanks to a Bocholt colleague who explained sverweis to me)

    Wednesday, April 12, 2006

    Thoughts on prayer, trust, life, etc.

    This evening during Bible Study, we read the final several verses of James and discussed prayer and how God answers. As a semi-practical person who likes results and clear answers, it's often difficult for me to pray and wait for God to answer. I'd like to hear a voice or receive an e-mail. I'd like to look up and see words and directions scrolling in the night sky like in Star Wars, but that's unfortunately not an option. Which means, in order to be obedient, I'm to pray, trust and wait.

    These seem to be recurring themes and thoughts lately.

    On Monday night I spoke with Esther*, one of my dearest friends (and roommate for two years!) and we had a similar conversation... we ended up talking about prayer, faith, decision-making and uncertainties - both in the present and in the future. It's often difficult to believe, trust and hope as you're in the moment, in the present... but looking in retrospect almost always gives a new perspective and clarity.

    Our Monday conversation ties in with tonight's conversation - God answers prayers. That's certain. Here's the clincher, though: He answers according to His will, and in His timing. Which are all too often different than my own will and timing.

    In the past couple of weeks, I've really begun to see and understand God's guidance and direction in my life since last summer. Many things didn't run as I'd originally planned and desired... but everything's truly turned out for the best.

    For example, I had my heart set on Berlin over the past two years. Not only do we have family friends there who pastor a little church, but the city itself is amazing - it's a cultural melting pot, and the perfect mixture of history and modernity. It was frustrating when I couldn't get a job there... but after weighing the options, I decided that even a little tiny town in Germany (Kamp-Lintfort) would be better than being in the States (no offense to anyone there - I was just ready for an adventure/challenge/change). I told Esther the other night that though I miss her and everyone back home tremendously, I really do think I'm in the right place, and at this point I can't imagine being anywhere else in the world.**

    Then there was the appartment issue. Everyone I'd talked to recommended I find a place in Moers - the "largest" city near Kamp-Lintfort, where I work. Every appartment visit either fell through or wasn't right, for some reason. It was a frustrating time - I'd been praying for an appartment; everyone back home was also praying; and it was a definite need. Why was everything falling through? The hotel was nice, but enough is enough.

    Now, I cringe thinking that I'd almost signed a lease in Moers. It's perfect here in Neukirchen for several key reasons: (1) Bizarro Mom is my renter, (2) I'm within a 3-minute walking distance to the church- and to a piano! (3) it's easy for people to come by, as it's so close to church, (4) NK is closer to work and (5) NK is really growing on me.

    There are many things in life that we don't understand until post-facto, sometimes even years later. Then there are certain situations and occurrences I wonder if I'll ever understand.

    Maybe so, maybe not.

    When I was going through a hard time with faith and such at one point, my dad told me something I've always remembered. He said that though it's good to question and think and study, I'm never going to understand everything. If I were to understand everything, then I'd be God. This is completely absurd, and thus makes an excellent point.

    Which brings us back to the beginning... trusting and knowing that God answers, and accepting the fact that His will and timing might just be different than your own. Ah!

    Lyric of the day: "Can you catch the wind? See a breeze? It's presence is revealed by the leaves on a tree. An image of my faith in the Unseen." (Thanks to dcTalk).

    *name unchanged

    **excluding a little mud hut in Fiji...

    Sunday, April 09, 2006

    And we're back...

    Sorry about any confusion or inconvenience.

    I even confuse myself at times. ;)

    Lyric of the day: "Visiting hours are 9 to 5 and if I show up at ten past 6, well, I already know that you'll find some way to sneak me in..." (Thanks to Alanis.)

    Thursday, April 06, 2006

    I dare you to psychoanalyze this mess...

    I really do like my job and my co-workers... but lately work has been haunting my private life.

    One of my co-workers, commonly referred to as "The Commander" because of his experience and job description is particularly threatening. He's the one I give the majority of my reports and forecasts to, so there's a natural pressure and stress I feel every time he looks in my direction or meanders towards my desk.

    Bizarro Mom lent me a crime novel several months ago, and I've been plugging away at it when I have extra time. In one scene, the lady is home alone and someone breaks in... it's not the type of thing you can read at night when you're alone with the Biomuell, if you know what I mean.

    Then there was the episode where my electrical box had somehow opened and I was spooked that an intruder was in my apartment.

    So... what's the point of these three blurbs which are seemingly unrelated?

    Well, everything came together the other morning, in a twisted Seinfeldian fashion when I woke up in a cold sweat thinking I'd lost my sanity (the onset of many mental illnesses is mid to late twenties... hmm...).

    I had a dream. A dream where I was alone in my apartment and thought I heard someone... as I turned the corner, The Commander (who had apparently broken into my apartment and was waiting for me) grabbed me and put me in a head-lock, demanding that I turn in my forecast and NCC report. I struggled to break free, and to breathe, but to no avail.

    When I saw him at work the next morning, I didn't know whether I should laugh or flee for my life. So I took the normal, socially appropriate route: suppress any emotion or desire and proceed as if nothing had occured.

    Life. *tsk tsk*

    Lyrics of the day: "Visiting hours are 9 - 5 and if I show up at ten past 6, well, I already know that you'll find some way to sneak me in and oh... mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom, you see, it's too much to ask for and I am not the doctor." (Thanks to Alanis.)

    Wednesday, April 05, 2006

    Wait... what?

    I have felt like a complete idiot these past few days. At work, a co-worker and I have a translation project (translate: Mary has a translation project 'cause she's the one who speaks semi-fluent English), and it's kicking my rear!

    By early afternoon each day, I inevitably have a throbbing headache, a stiff neck, dried-out contact lenses, and the desire to throw myself out of my (rather high) office window. Is it possible to develop a brain cramp due to over-exertion of mental energy?

    Here are some problems with German sentences I must face on a daily basis:

    - too long

    - overly complicated

    - confusing cases (dative, accusative, genitive, etc.)

    - horrid case overlap ("der", for example, can be either masculine nominative singular, feminine dative singular, feminine genetive singular, or masculine/feminine genetive plural).

    - unknown words

    I've been here about six months... you'd think translating a simple guideline packet wouldn't be such an issue. Oh, but it is.

    The strange thing is that when I read it in German, I understand what's being said and what the general concepts are. Sure, there are words I don't know, but that doesn't mean I don't understand the context and general idea. Translating, however, is a completely different story. Why is it so difficult? Maybe because I think in concepts instead of words, or am not used to directly translating German into English in my mind... who knows.

    And the quarter-glass (that's all I could down without feeling tipsy! Pathetic!) of champagne to celebrate a co-worker's graduation, drunk after missing my afternoon lunch break, isn't helping the situation.

    I've got a fever... and the only prescription is more cowbell!

    Sunday, April 02, 2006

    Lucida Sans

    After quite a bit of searching, discussing and debating, we finally decided on a font for the church letter-head and banner: Lucida Sans. 'Twas a glorious occasion.

    I will get up now and surf about the internet,
    through its search engines and annoying pop-up ads.
    I will search for the font my heart loves...

    Scarcely had I passed when I found Lucida Sans, the one my heart loves.
    I downloaded her and would not let her go to my Recycle Bin...
    How beautiful you are, my darling Lucida Sans! Oh, how beautiful!

    My Lucida Sans in the clefts of cyberspace,
    in the hiding places in a myriad of Schrott-font-sites,
    let me hear your voice, show me your letters,
    for your letters are sweet, sans serif, and slightly italicized....

    My font is mine and I am hers; she browses among Powerpoint documents.
    Until the day breaks and the shadows flee,
    turn, my Lucida Sans, and be like a winzip file,
    or like a .ttf file on my rugged (and clogged up) harddrive.

    My Lucida Sans is radiant and ruddy,
    oustanding among ten thousand fonts.

    All beautiful you are, my darling Lucida Sans,
    far beyond Petite Medium, Arial and Times New Roman.
    There is no type flaw in you.


    (Inspired by various bits and pieces of Song of Solomon, especially 3:2-4, 4:1-7, 2:14-17, 5:10.)