I hate Tuesdays (and other tales of woe)

I hate Tuesdays. I have always hated Tuesdays. Tuesdays could be my least favorite day ever. Even more so than Mondays. I mean, Monday at least feels like a fresh start...like Sunday. But Tuesdays? There is nothing good about Tuesdays. Crappy television, shitty drink specials. Basically, Tuesday ist scheiße.

I especially hate Tuesdays where I wake up and think "oh, fuck me. This is not going to be a good day." Anyone here take Ambien? Or any sort of sleeping aide? And you know, when it wears off after four hours, and you're awake at five a.m., groggy and feeling like someone has slipped something in your drink, and you feel that way for the rest of the morning? Yup, THAT is how my morning started out. Feeling like, I am sure, Lindsay Lohan feels every morning. Like the world has just shoved a large, barbed-wire wrapped bat up my hoohah. Fuck you, Ambien. Work like you are supposed to!

So an update on my money. The money was found. YAY! Apparently my mother, after asking my father to which account she should transfer the money, sent it to the University. (insert groan here). So yesterday evening, I received an email from my father informing me that I needed to go to the University and have them wire the lump sum to my account, because, well, it did not belong to them. I would like to thank my father for providing me with what I have deemed "learning opportunities" in Germany. Whereby fuck all happens and I have to try to fix it with a fucking language barrier and a short fuse. So thanks, pops! You are the best.

I met up with Katrin because, heaven forbid, I find myself in a situation where I am trying to play charades with some woman who doesn't speak English. Thankfully, one of the girls in the office did speak English. When I went in and told her I had a problem, she asked me what my name was. "Sarah Ober," I replied. She looked at me and said, "oh, your father has given us a great deal of money!" Wait, what?? These bitches knew that they had my money, on accident, and no one thought to contact me?? What the fuck is that?? So she led us down a hallway to another office, with two other women in it, and in German (by the way, I can understand German now) said "Oh, this is Sarah Ober." And the women in the office laughed. And she said "you are quite famous here." Fantastic. In addition to being groggy and irritable, I was now being openly mocked by German women.

With the click of a button, another women transferred all my money to MY German bank account. Why they could not have just called me last week and informed me of the snafoo, I do not know. Maybe because they, too, wanted to provide me with ample learning opportunities in Deutschland. Like trying to communicate with Stapler-dude at the bank. So far, I am down two points.

I managed to make it to class on time, which was good since I seem to be having quite a difficult time with that, and all things were going well. I even spoke GERMAN in my listening comprehension class. I was feeling quite proud of myself, like I was a fucking Deutsch God, until my grammar class. I think Frau Grigorieva just has a knack for bringing me down off Cloud 9 and bitch-slapping me in the taco (thanks, Glee, for my new favorite saying).

In four weeks, we have what the Studienkolleg calls the "E-test." This is very similar to the test I had at the beginning of the term back in August whereby they gauge our German comprehension and place us in a level of German accordingly. I would just like to state that despite the fact that my speaking skills may not be all that great (I hear my German friends snickering right now), I can actually read and write fairly proficiently. Understanding grammar rules has never been a problem of mine. Chalk it up to the English nerd in me. Once I learn a grammar rule, it usually sticks (at least as far as writing goes). So I know that, since August, I have become much better with German. Or at least so I thought. Frau Grigorieva handed out this sample test from 1994, just so we could get a feel for it, and I just stared at it, mouth agape. You know that fish market in Seattle on the Pier? Where they will throw a giant fish at you should you ask, in hopes that you will catch it just so you can say, fuck yes I caught a giant fish! Okay, now imagine that someone hurls a massive fucking 50 pound fish at you and instead of catching it, it hits you in the face. And you are left standing there, stunned with fish slime dripping down your face, reeking of two-week old vag...

That is how I felt at that exact moment.

WHAT THE FUCK DID THIS TEST EVEN SAY???

There were no words. No words. I wasnt even entirely sure what the directions were telling me. So I did what I do in all situations that I find uncomfortable: I started laughing uncontrollably. And Frau Grigorieva just looked at me and asked (I think, because it was auf Deutsch and I am far from a Deutsch God) "what is wrong, Sarah? A catastrophe? Why are you laughing?" Why am I laughing?? Why am I laughing?? Because my soul is slowly leaking out my butt! Because my will to live has been crushed! Because you are ruining my life woman!

So I am basically fucked. I hope I get placed at least a little bit above the level I am currently in. Maybe I should spend the month of February actually studying, and reading things other than Cosmo in German. Dammit all.

I was pretty much so distraught after my class that I did not want to leave my room. I wanted to hole up and watch "Bones" with my fucking rainbow chip frosting and perhaps a bottle of wine. Estelle invited me over, though, and made me dinner, which pretty much made me super, super happy (um, there were mashed potatoes involved. SUPER good mashed potatoes). And even though she told me that I am like a guy (pardon me?? Just because I cannot cook for shit, and maybe I fall asleep after I eat, does not mean that I do not have other valuable domestic skills. I can vacuum and dust like a mother fucker, thank you) I am feeling a little bit better about life, though I still think I am about to run a train on this can of frosting.


www.nataliedee.com

adventures in international banking

Let me preface this blog by stating that yes, I am well aware that I am living in Germany, and that people here speak German, but COME ON. I mean, I figure if you are working someplace, like a bank that deals internationally, and everyone else in this fucking country speaks English (or Denglish, as we like to call it), then shouldn't you at least have a somewhat decent grasp on banking terminology in English? Especially since it took every iota of energy I had to smile politely and not leap across the desk and strangle you with your fucking non-cordless phone?!

From the beginning:

A week and a half ago, my wonderful, wonderful parents wired money to my German bank account so that I could pay rent. (And I do not want to hear anything from anyone about how my parents are sending me money). Anyway, last Wednesday, I got online to check the status of my account and, to my dismay, there was no money in there. Well what the fuck, I thought to myself. So I called my mother, explained the situation, and she called their bank in Idaho and demanded to know where the money was. The bank told her the money was in Deutschland. Awesome. So my mother informed me that I needed to go to the bank here in Germany and find out whose desk my money was loitering on. VIEL SPAß! The thing I love more than anything else is trying to have a conversation with someone about shit that actually matters, like money, in another language. It exhausts the fuck out of me and causes me to long for a big, tall beer.

So today, I went to the bank after class to get all this sorted out. I was waiting in line when this kind-looking, officious old German dude came up to me and barked something at me in German. I politely explained that I did not speak much German, but that I had a problem with my bank account (case in point, I did this in German). He looked at me like I had a third nipple growing in the center of my forehead, walked away and came back three minutes later with this other guy, who sort of looked like the Stapler-guy from "Office Space."

"Diese damen aus America," he said "spricht nur English. Kein Deutsch." Sweet. So apparently my German is atrocious enough that this guy recognized that I was some dumb-ass American trying to speak German. At least he couldn't pin-point the state, or I would have been embarrassed.

Office Space guy informs me that he only speaks a little English, but he will try to help me. Fan-fucking-tastic. Define a little English? Like, on a scale from "I can say fuck off" to "I can say fuck off and then explain existentialism and the meaning of life" where, sir, do you lie? I would say in normal conversation, this dude would probably be a 5 or a 6. But as far as banking terminology goes, I felt like I was trying to explain the concept of wiring money in English to a four-year-old with dyslexia and ADHD. UGH.

From what I gathered, Germany does not know where my money is. He kept saying, your parents did it wrong, the money is still in their account, and I kept insisting that no, buddy, the money is NOT in their account (I think I used the term "credited" which probably threw him right the fuck off), and that the bank in America says the money is most definitely over here in Deutschland, but he just kept looking at me all wide-eyed, like I was some sort of alien slobbering all over myself. He printed off some fucking paper and told me that my parents had to do it again, this time wiring the money to the following numbers. Yeah, okay...what about the other lump sum of money just floating around in nomads land? Just forget about it? Oh yeah, because, you know, money grows on trees in America. When we need it, we just grab our baskets and walk out back and climb up the ol ladder and pick as much as we need. If we decide to wire it internationally and some gets lost along the way, that is okay! The government will give us more money trees!

So yeah, on the list of things I can now cross off my bucket list: lose money internationally and talk with guy who looks like dude from Office Space about intermediaries and debit and credits.

Oh, and speaking of awesome German conversations, I ran into my conversation instructor on the bus, whose class I have not attended in, well, months. It is only twice a month, but it is at 8:00 a.m. Monday morning, and unless my ass is getting paid to be awake that early, I am going to reset my alarm for 9:45. Anyway, she wanted to know why I had not been in class, and of course she asked me in German, but I answered in English, which led to a lovely 15 minute conversation about my life and what the fuck I was doing. What a nice lady. Maybe I will try to make it to her class next week.

new years resolutions off to a good start....

New Years Resolution: blog more. Well, fuck.

It is not that I have not been doing interesting things...I just, gasp, forgot to blog. I keep going through these lethargic waves. I blame it on the weather. And this time of year. I am always a little unpredictable when the weather cant even make up its fucking mind. I go from having fantastic days to days where all I want to do is hole up in my room and watch movies and drink wine straight from the bottle and not talk to anyone. I truly do have the makings of a crazy cat lady. And you will all be able to say, we knew her when....

It was definitely strange coming back to Germany. And it has still been strange. Going home was good. Going home reminded me of why I am here. But coming back, I still find myself, on certain days, longing to have my old life back. I feel like I have been split into two different people: Sarah at home, who was semi-responsible and was always busy, and Sarah here in Germany, who drinks life a fish and is living a little too much like a college freshman. Remember the first time you got drunk on wine coolers? Yeah, neither do I, but I have a feeling I am experiencing something similar to that on a weekly basis.

I guess growing up in a town like Boise, people expect you to act a certain way. It really leaves no wiggle room for change. But here, no one really knew anything about me, so I could be myself, whatever that means. And it is a little scary. Imagine going to a new place and being able to, well, okay, not exactly reinvent yourself, but start over. What would you change? What would you do differently? Am I finally living the life I have wanted to lead, or am I just getting all this shit out of my system before I sell my soul to the dogs of corporate America? Who the fuck knows. It worries me a little bit that I am actually this person. That the responsible girl from Boise who had a job and a good education and blah, blah, blah was all just a facade, and I really I do not have a grasp on shit. Well fuck, fuck, fuck.

And truth be told, I really, really miss my friends in the states. I had a very lovely support system set up, and here, I really do not have that. I have my friends, and I love them dearly, but it is next to impossible to establish that sort of bond with someone in such a short period of time. It usually takes years to build something like that. I am fortunate to have such wonderful friends who are always there for me, even when I am 8000 miles away. But there are some nights where I really wish they were here, could take me for a walk in the woods, get me drunk and tell me everything is going to be all right. Skype just aint cutting it right now.

That being said, though, I am very lucky to have Estelle here in Germany, when everyone else is so far away. I think otherwise I probably would have stayed in Boise and not come back. I still cannot for the life of me figure out how the fuck we communicate with each other, but there is a lot that goes on between us that does not require words (thank God, because I am pretty sure both of us, the majority of the time, are thinking "Christ, what the fuck did she just say??"). But it took my inability to communicate with Estelle, my inability to use my words to attract someone, to realize that there are people in this world that you meet because fate has deemed it so. It was the same thing with all of my very close friends: it wasn't what was said between us, but a feeling. I am not talking about love, I don't think...But it is something you cannot explain. When you meet someone and FEEL in the very core of your being that, yes, this person will be in your life forever. I think these sorts of friendships are very rare. I guess I have just been lucky in life. But it makes me feel like I am doing something right: that I am following the path I am supposed to be taking. One thing different and who knows where I would be. I mean, who would have thought I would meet my German twin randomly at a mall?

But when push comes to shove, I have to believe that I am doing the right thing. Because on the days when I question the decisions I have made...those are the days I start to question everything about myself. And that is a dangerous road to go down.

In other news, I think I am beginning to like fußball more than American football. I feel like such a fucking traitor.

The New Decade Blog

So it has been a while since I have blogged. I have been out having adventures in the great city of Boise! So it is really not my fault. I am finding it so hard to believe that I have been here for two weeks already. And that I am headed back to Deutschland on Saturday. Wow. This is a little too much emotion for me to handle right now.

It has been very strange being back. It was strange when I first got here. I cried before the plane even landed. To see the City of Trees appear through the hills was more than I could handle. I think the guy next to me thought I was insane. Walking into my house for the first time in four months, nothing had changed. It was exactly as I had left it. My seasons of Star Trek were still neatly lined up next to my t.v. My tennis racket was still leaning up against the wall. My towel was still hanging on the door of my bathroom. I had apparently not emptied out the dryer before I left... And before I knew it, I had fallen back into the same routines I had before I left. I immediately drove to pick up my cat. And to see Vickie. And ordered a pizza from Guidos.

And the funny thing is, really, NOTHING has changed. It was almost as if I had never left. It is a very odd feeling knowing that I have changed, that I have started another life on the other side of the world, but this life is still here and it will always be here. And aside from a few haircuts, a couple of break ups and some engagements, everyone is exactly as I left them. My friends are still here, buildings are still here...it is like I pressed pause on the movie of my life in Boise and just picked right back up where I left off. And apparently I have made a little bit of a mark here, too. It is fun to go into places that I used to frequent and have people who I didn't even think knew me comment that they had not seen me in a while. Oh, and running into people I know EVERYWHERE.

I had been so homesick in Germany and so ready to come back, and at the end of the two weeks here, I am ready to go back to Germany because I really do miss it. I miss my friends there and I miss my life. But I feel now that I am able to reflect on a few things....lets call it personal growth.

First off, I am so glad I came back home for Christmas. I think it has made me appreciate so much more this amazing opportunity I have to be in Germany, at my age. It was getting a little disheartening being here and watching all my friends get married and have kids and start careers and knowing that I am nowhere near any of that. But looking at it now, if I were married and had kids and a real job, I would not be living in Germany right now. I would fall victim to the monotony of real life. I have at least another 40 years before I will ever be this free again. Fuck--I packed up my life and moved to Germany! How many people can say that at the age of 26?

But I was also getting a little burned out over in Germany. And I know that if I had not come home, I would have pissed and moaned about wanting to be back in America. I feel like being back in Boise and seeing all my friends and family has given me the extra kick I need to make it through the next nine months. Because I know that I can always come back to this life; I wont always be able to go back to my life in Germany. And truth be told, I actually MISS being over there. I found myself talking A LOT about Saarbrücken and my friends and all the fun adventures that I have been on. I think my German has turned to schieße (despite Estelle's repeated efforts to get me to speak German over skype. I quit a while ago and started writing in English. Sorry, Estelle). But I am now more motivated than ever to really get this German language acquisition thing rolling. Shit, kids! It is a new year! A new decade! Why the hell not?

Now here comes the honesty train...I am actually a little teary-eyed writing this blog. I have never been an emotional person, but having to say good-bye to people all over again sucks. It sucks big time. I am so fortunate to have the amazing friends that I do. I challenge anyone who thinks they have a more loyal or a more supportive group of friends than me. Being away has really made me appreciate just how fucking awesome each one of my friends is(and honestly, being here has made me appreciate my amazing friends in Germany). And I know someone is going to roll their eyes at this next part, but I am going to fucking miss my cat Lucky. I know I am going to see him when I get back, but I cannot explain to him that I am not giving him away. This cat has not left my side since I have been home, and it breaks my heart to know that he doesn't understand that I am not abandoning him. Where is that fucking cat whisperer when you need him??

So that is that. Tomorrow is New Years Eve, and I am looking forward to starting this new chapter of my life. I will write my obligatory New Years Day blog when I have my lovely 3 hour layover in LAX. But for now, I hope everyone, near and far, has a happy and safe New Years!

First Concert in Germany...Die Happy!

So I was flipping back through my blog entries, and I could have sworn I had written, like, three or four blogs over the past two weeks. Turns out, I started those blogs, probably started drinking, and then never finished those blogs. What else is new? :) So at some point, probably when I am home...IN AMERICA...next week, I will wrap those up for your reading pleasure. Because they are quite good.

Anyway, last night I went to my first official concert in Germany. I had been feeling like shit all day, mainly because I caught whatever the fuck has been going around campus TWO WEEKS AGO. Yeah, I have been sick for almost three weeks. And it is balls. It has morphed from sore throat (Halsschmerzen) to body pain (Gliederschmerzen) to cough to sneeze to sore throat again and now I am at the lovely congestion mixed with sinus pressure and watery eye phase. I am hoping this is the last phase. For the love of God I do not want to be on a plane for 14 hours with sinus pain. I will want to kill someone.

I digress. Last night was the Die Happy concert, which I have been looking forward to for almost three months (basically since I found out they were coming to good ol Saarbrücken). I felt so shitty yesterday I briefly considered not going. My friend who was supposed to go bailed on me, so basically I would be going alone while sick. A winning combination. But I decided that I would totally regret not going, even if it exacerbated my present symptoms. I took a ton of Advil and put on my best game face. I didn't want to rock out, but I wanted to sit back, drink a sprite and enjoy myself as best I could.

Now I have to preface this next part by saying that I have been to a few concerts. I think the number might be right around 60 or 70. I love to go to concerts. I love listening to live music and watching performers do their thing. It is amazing. And I have been to everything from the Cowboy Junkies to The Sounds to Sarah McLachlan to some opera and some punk rock. I cannot say that I have ever had a negative concert going experience (with the exception of the one that took place last New Years Eve, which we don't need to get into). With this in mind, I can unequivocally state that this concert last night was one of the BEST performances I have ever seen by a live band. The amount of energy emanating from that stage was incredible. I started off in the back of the crowd, quietly sipping my Sprite and super pissed off that I was sick and shit was so loud, and by about the third song, I was up in the front, rocking my shit out. I couldn't help it! And this was ohne Alkohol! I embarrassed myself sober! I have never seen performers so into what they were doing. Not only that, this was one of the only concerts I have been to where the band actually spent a considerable amount of time interacting with the audience. It was incredible. I am definitely considering seeing them in concert again!

If you have a chance to listen to some of their music, I highly recommend it. Presently, folks in the States, I think you are only able to purchase their newest album on itunes, but it is very good.

Anyway, here are some pictures from last night (please excuse my shitty little camera. It just hasn't been the same since I dropped it in that beer...twice). Simply awesome:







In other news, I am bound for the great state of Idaho on Friday! I cannot wait to order a freaking pizza in English!

Fracking Winter.

There are so many things about winter that I just don't like: I hate being cold. I hate falling on the ice or eating shit in the snow as I sprint to the bus stop. I hate the fact that for whatever reason, every winter, I inexplicably gain 10 to 20 pounds (inexplicable? Ha. Okay. Maybe it is because I go into a feeding frenzy and stop exercising). But probably the thing I hate most is that I go into emo funk mode. I don't want to do anything; I want to sit in my room, snuggle under a blanket and shut out the world and everyone in it, feeling sorry for myself while I consume mass quantities of chocolate and booze. And listen to sad depressing music. It sort of reminds me of that scene from "Bridget Jones Diary" where she drowns her sorrows in a bottle of vodka and sings "All by Myself" in her living room.

While riding the train home from Nürmberg today, I put my ipod on random shuffle, and I swear the cosmos were sending me all the emo vibes they could. Holy shit. Every single song that "randomly" played conjured up memories of depression and disillusionment and fear and sadness and god only knows what else. So of course I had to come home and create an itunes playlist entitled "FML." And I thought I would share some of those songs RIGHT NOW.

Warning: the following songs will probably make you want to drink, cry or write a blog entry. I suggest having a bottle of Merlot close by.

Language schmanguage

First off, I would like someone to explain to me why there are dance clubs open in Saarbrücken on a Thursday night until the wee hours of the morning. Really? It is Thursday! I feel like my old age is finally catching up to me, and not being the young lass I once was, staying out and partying until the sun comes up on a school night is kicking my ass. Ah, remember when we were all once young and had livers like champion Deutsch beer drinkers? Yeah, those days are long gone.

Yesterday was one of those shitty German speaking days, and I felt like I only understood about 20% of what was going on around me. See, I have good days and I have bad days. On the good days, I feel like I am finally understanding German: when people talk to me, I know exactly (okay, sort of) what they are saying, and I can answer with some degree of certainty. On the bad days, though. Ugh. I just want to stay in my room and watch "Glee" in English and drink hot chocolate. People start talking and I follow for about 10 seconds before I stare past them up at the sky. "Oh look, a bird." And then comes the moment of truth when there is a slight rise in the other persons voice at the end of their sentence, indicating that I am supposed to say something. That is about the point where I get that dumbfounded look on my face (you know, the one ADD kids get when they have just been caught with their faces plastered against the windows staring at God only knows what) and ask "Was"? And I love the question "Verstehst du"? Yeah, nein. Not at all. This seemed to happen on a fairly consistent basis yesterday.

But I realized something talking (playing charades) with Estelle: I have been accused of being lazy for not speaking more German here, but it is not because I am lazy. It is because I am embarrassed (well, okay, I am slightly lazy, but come on. Sometimes a good ol English quip really drives the point home). Estelle told me she doesn't speak English much because she thinks she sounds bad. Christ, I KNOW I sound like shit when I speak German, so I opt to take the easy road and speak English. Because I get embarrassed. Because I hate it when I talk and people cannot understand me. It is very frustrating to be THIS old and have the communication skills of a three year old. It is even worse when people get annoyed or impatient or what have you because then YOU feel like sheiße. I only speak German around Estelle, I guess mainly because yeah, she does not speak English, but also because somehow, she understands me, and I don't feel like a giant asshole when I talk. Fuck, I am surprised she understands me at all. Even though sentences feel backwards to me, I am sure me translating a sentence from English to German and using the English construct of that sentence is fucking ridiculous to the Germans. Why cant German be like Spanish???

But it is easy for me to forget that I am not the only person in the world that is having this problem. I am not the first person to feel like an ass when I speak another language. THIS is not my native language! Lord, it feels more times than not that it is not even close to English! If I could be fluent in a language after three months, I would move to a new country four times a year.

Oh, also, I switched my keyboard from English to German so I could type the umlauts with more ease. But fuck if I can find the apostrophe key now. So I don't want any of you to think that I am making grammatical errors. I never make grammatical errors (haha). I just cant find the fucking key, and spellcheck does not always catch it.

Okay, I am off to pack. We are going to Nuremberg today. I am pretty damn stoked about this!