As (most of) you know, I've recently moved house. As (most of) you know, moving house comes with a ton of annoying address changes and trying to figure out where you have accounts, contracts and subscriptions.
Most normal people, being normal in their ever-so-normal way will order mail forwarding in order to give them time to get their ducks in a row and take note of all the crap they get by mail on a daily basis.
The last time I did this (as in, last year), mail forwarding was just that -- I got (most of) my mail forwarded to me.
Fast forward to this year, and after sending in my request to Deutsche Post, I got an email from my insurance company where I have my Haftpflichtversicherung saying that they'd gotten my new address from Deutsche Post and they'd kindly updated it for me. (All this, despite the fact I made sure to uncheck the "forward my new address to the appropriate peoples" box since I'm a control freak.) At least they were nice enough to inform me. When I (finally) went to update my address with O2 today, I was rather surprised when my updated address was already in the system.
Maybe I didn't check/uncheck that stupid box properly in the first place.
Still, the whole thing is more confusing than if I'd just have done all the address changes myself. Sure, my phone and third-party liability insurance automatically updated themselves, but neither my health insurance nor my internet provider did.
How am I supposed to know who updates my address and who doesn't unless I just go into each account and check anyway? (I may as well update all my addresses myself, frankly. I'm completely durcheinander.)
Dear Deutsche Post,
Either go to town and ask everyone to update my addresses, or don't do it at all. The last thing you want is for people to "rely" on your service, only to find out they are missing a whole whack of mail after their mail forwarding ends.
Or maybe that is what you want. *conspiracy*
Mit freundlichen Grüßen
21 July 2013
07 June 2013
BLIP: Go Figure
Of course I find the sunglasses I lost the day after I bought a new pair. *facepalm*
05 June 2013
Moving Again
Yeah, that's right -- unbelievable, eh? I'm preparing yet another move.
Despite all its challenges and tendency to be completely and utterly wasteful of energy and monetary resources, there's something liberating about picking up and moving again, something completely wonderful in the excuse to get rid of the old crap that's been broken/is no longer in use.
Today marks my one step down, one step to go in getting rid of all my useless, broken stuff.
After hemming and hawing for way too long about making an appointment for the Elektroschrott to be taken away, the appointment for the city to take away my crap is finally tomorrow. Not only is it somehow relieving to finally be able to get rid of the TV you accidentally broke a year ago when you let it fall down as you were moving furniture around, but also to finally be able to say good riddance to the microwave that started on fire that time you were melting butter.
I'm sure my friends -- who are kindly helping me move soon -- will be happy I lugged the heavy/awkward bulk out of my flat and onto the sidewalk by myself, since they're less than thrilled (I'm sure) that I've enlisted them to lug ten odd boxes of books to a new city as it is.
(Thanks in advance, friends).
Despite all its challenges and tendency to be completely and utterly wasteful of energy and monetary resources, there's something liberating about picking up and moving again, something completely wonderful in the excuse to get rid of the old crap that's been broken/is no longer in use.
Today marks my one step down, one step to go in getting rid of all my useless, broken stuff.
After hemming and hawing for way too long about making an appointment for the Elektroschrott to be taken away, the appointment for the city to take away my crap is finally tomorrow. Not only is it somehow relieving to finally be able to get rid of the TV you accidentally broke a year ago when you let it fall down as you were moving furniture around, but also to finally be able to say good riddance to the microwave that started on fire that time you were melting butter.
I'm sure my friends -- who are kindly helping me move soon -- will be happy I lugged the heavy/awkward bulk out of my flat and onto the sidewalk by myself, since they're less than thrilled (I'm sure) that I've enlisted them to lug ten odd boxes of books to a new city as it is.
(Thanks in advance, friends).
07 April 2013
BLIP: Just a Little Homesick
Of course the homesickness ebbs and flows, and the last few years, the homesickness has slowly but surely started to minimize itself. I've found, though, that I've been more homesick (read: reminiscent) than not these couple days.
Why do I wish I was in Canada?
-To wake up, drink a pot of coffee with one of those Irish Cream or French Vanilla Coffeemates for flavouring, preferably while watching the news and complaining about how the world is still going to hell in a handbasket.
-So I could go to the mall, just wander around and maybe hit up Chapters.
-After going to the mall I'd like to go to a run-of-the-mill generally crappy but totally homesick-inducing restaurant like Moxie's or Boston Pizza for some greasy/happy food.
-Drive home (holy moly I miss driving), blasting the music and singing along.
-And then watch whatever sport is on TV. The Oilers don't play tonight, so I wouldn't be able to watch them lose spectacularly (again), but I'd settle for pretty much anything right now.
And all of the above preferably with people who make me homesick and reminiscent in the first place. Otherwise, without the people, I'm pretty sure I could find reasonable substitutions here.
It's always the people I'm missing.
I keep waiting for things to get better, but it always keeps coming back.
Why do I wish I was in Canada?
-To wake up, drink a pot of coffee with one of those Irish Cream or French Vanilla Coffeemates for flavouring, preferably while watching the news and complaining about how the world is still going to hell in a handbasket.
-So I could go to the mall, just wander around and maybe hit up Chapters.
-After going to the mall I'd like to go to a run-of-the-mill generally crappy but totally homesick-inducing restaurant like Moxie's or Boston Pizza for some greasy/happy food.
-Drive home (holy moly I miss driving), blasting the music and singing along.
-And then watch whatever sport is on TV. The Oilers don't play tonight, so I wouldn't be able to watch them lose spectacularly (again), but I'd settle for pretty much anything right now.
And all of the above preferably with people who make me homesick and reminiscent in the first place. Otherwise, without the people, I'm pretty sure I could find reasonable substitutions here.
It's always the people I'm missing.
I keep waiting for things to get better, but it always keeps coming back.
03 April 2013
Hello, Lovelies!
I'm sure most of you guys know I'm a sucker for times past. For all the time I spend hopping from thing to thing, place to place, I'll be the first one to get all overly sentimental and have my eyes brimming over with tears at the memory of *all the good times*.
So anyhoo, today I went into the city centre to wander around since my semester breaks are usually good for little else than getting cabin fever from only going into the city on days I'm working. I wandered into Deichmann, and I saw some shoes which almost made me cry out with joy.
You see, I bought these shoes a number of years ago (probably around 2008-ish), and wore them until I literally wore the sole out and was walking around barefoot. And then I found them again today in the store (way to be trendy and current, Deichmann).
They were shoes I threw away with a heavy heart, so of course I figured they were worth the 16 yoyos of getting again, since I know I'll wear them. Also, 16 yoyos is completely reasonable for a pair of shoes, even if I'm probably too old to be wearing this sort of thing these days.
Every time I walk past them on the way to the kitchen, I smile at them. Yes, they're inanimate objects, and no, they're not the same ones that trekked through a number of mighty adventures with me, but my brain gets tricked just long enough to forget those things. And here I am, happy as a clam. Heck, just looking up at the picture as I write this post gives me butterflies in my tummy.
(Yeah, I'm a weirdo. Whatevs. At least I'm of the happy variety.)
So anyhoo, today I went into the city centre to wander around since my semester breaks are usually good for little else than getting cabin fever from only going into the city on days I'm working. I wandered into Deichmann, and I saw some shoes which almost made me cry out with joy.
You see, I bought these shoes a number of years ago (probably around 2008-ish), and wore them until I literally wore the sole out and was walking around barefoot. And then I found them again today in the store (way to be trendy and current, Deichmann).
They were shoes I threw away with a heavy heart, so of course I figured they were worth the 16 yoyos of getting again, since I know I'll wear them. Also, 16 yoyos is completely reasonable for a pair of shoes, even if I'm probably too old to be wearing this sort of thing these days.
Every time I walk past them on the way to the kitchen, I smile at them. Yes, they're inanimate objects, and no, they're not the same ones that trekked through a number of mighty adventures with me, but my brain gets tricked just long enough to forget those things. And here I am, happy as a clam. Heck, just looking up at the picture as I write this post gives me butterflies in my tummy.
(Yeah, I'm a weirdo. Whatevs. At least I'm of the happy variety.)
27 March 2013
Why in the WORLD Would I Look Forward to Easter?
Yesterday someone asked me if I was looking forward to Easter.
In return, this person got the blank stare I've gotten in the habit of giving everyone who asks me if I'm looking forward to one holiday or the other.
No, I'm not.
Listen, I don't mean for this to be a sob fest/pity party. The fact of the matter, though, is that as a single expatriate, you don't live with your family. Full stop. When the holidays come around, you may Skype with them or what not, but you're normally spending that day alone.
I can only speak for myself, of course. Some people may do things with friends, or some people may go home for whichever holidays they can/want to.
In the last five and a half years, it's become very clear to me that spending my holidays alone is a fact of life. It's really not the end of the world. I'm not religious anyway, so I don't really feel like I'm missing out on anything in that respect. The most I'm really missing out on is whatever seasonal bird is ending up on the table back in Canada.
All the holidays/long weekends/whatever give me are an extra couple of days away from work/uni to work on whichever writing projects I've got on the go at the moment. It's not sad, mopey or depressing. It's just the way it is -- another day.
Still, don't ask me if I'm looking forward to the holidays. Sure, it's nice to not set the alarm for an extra morning or two, but really. No. I'm not looking forward to the holidays. Why would I?
In return, this person got the blank stare I've gotten in the habit of giving everyone who asks me if I'm looking forward to one holiday or the other.
No, I'm not.
Listen, I don't mean for this to be a sob fest/pity party. The fact of the matter, though, is that as a single expatriate, you don't live with your family. Full stop. When the holidays come around, you may Skype with them or what not, but you're normally spending that day alone.
I can only speak for myself, of course. Some people may do things with friends, or some people may go home for whichever holidays they can/want to.
In the last five and a half years, it's become very clear to me that spending my holidays alone is a fact of life. It's really not the end of the world. I'm not religious anyway, so I don't really feel like I'm missing out on anything in that respect. The most I'm really missing out on is whatever seasonal bird is ending up on the table back in Canada.
All the holidays/long weekends/whatever give me are an extra couple of days away from work/uni to work on whichever writing projects I've got on the go at the moment. It's not sad, mopey or depressing. It's just the way it is -- another day.
Still, don't ask me if I'm looking forward to the holidays. Sure, it's nice to not set the alarm for an extra morning or two, but really. No. I'm not looking forward to the holidays. Why would I?
24 March 2013
BLIP: I like Candy
Tyrkisk Peber makes me happy. So does finding it on Amazon, which gives me the feeling that I can go ahead and eat the 12984 bags I brought back from Finland when my heart so desires.
19 March 2013
"Minderwertiger Mensch"
Today at the staff meeting at one of my jobs, there was a discussion about whether or not we should be hanging art in the workplace, and what kind of art that should be.
Then, one of the people noted that the company could employ an SHK to take the pictures to and from a van and hang them. A previous SHK who used to work in the office with me (who now has a real job and thus recognition as being a real person) looked at me and a simultaneous headshake took place.
Those of you who know me will know this whole SHK thing is one that drives me crazy and that I choose to bitch about quite often. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the German system, an SHK is typically just slave labor, akin to an unpaid intern with a degree who spends their days getting coffee for higher-ups. Our bosses are pretty much convinced we do dick all, even though we often do tons of work that they get to take credit for later on. Oh yeah. And we get paid practically nothing to do it.
On the one hand, it's good "experience" to have on your resume, even if it doesn't technically count as "work experience". (Which, considering the amount of work most SHK's I know do, is laughable. I do more work here than I did at any of my previous full-time "normal" jobs.) On the other: we're stuck doing the lousy work that no "real" employee wants to take on; are not given keys to get into the buildings we work in because "we might throw parties" and thus have to hope the person manning the front desk will open the door for us when we get to work; and are treated generally like baby monkeys, even though enough of us are running around with Bachelor's degrees.
It's a half-win/lose situation, but we deal with it... Mostly because we have to. You can't be choosy when the best jobs out there pay 10€ an hour or (normally) less if you're a dreaded student, regardless of the vow you made to yourself at 17 that you'd never work for less than the equivalent of 13€ an hour again.
What drives me crazy, though, is the potential for exploitation. Of course, I'll do the grunt work! Of course, I'll unload a car! And then, of course, I'll be happy to go back to my regular work where -- were I a freelancer -- I'd be getting a cool 300 yoyos a day, but of course I'm DELIGHTED to take my 60€ before tax! Of course!
Are SHK's the new Yes Men? Yes!
As for my previous co-worker, he went from being a Yes Man to a "real" human being whose thoughts could be respected from one day to the next. As far as I've been able to tell, nothing happened that day to make him more "important" or better of a person (except for the fact he got a key to the building).
Grumble, grumble. Here's to hoping my day comes eventually.
Then, one of the people noted that the company could employ an SHK to take the pictures to and from a van and hang them. A previous SHK who used to work in the office with me (who now has a real job and thus recognition as being a real person) looked at me and a simultaneous headshake took place.
Those of you who know me will know this whole SHK thing is one that drives me crazy and that I choose to bitch about quite often. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the German system, an SHK is typically just slave labor, akin to an unpaid intern with a degree who spends their days getting coffee for higher-ups. Our bosses are pretty much convinced we do dick all, even though we often do tons of work that they get to take credit for later on. Oh yeah. And we get paid practically nothing to do it.
On the one hand, it's good "experience" to have on your resume, even if it doesn't technically count as "work experience". (Which, considering the amount of work most SHK's I know do, is laughable. I do more work here than I did at any of my previous full-time "normal" jobs.) On the other: we're stuck doing the lousy work that no "real" employee wants to take on; are not given keys to get into the buildings we work in because "we might throw parties" and thus have to hope the person manning the front desk will open the door for us when we get to work; and are treated generally like baby monkeys, even though enough of us are running around with Bachelor's degrees.
It's a half-win/lose situation, but we deal with it... Mostly because we have to. You can't be choosy when the best jobs out there pay 10€ an hour or (normally) less if you're a dreaded student, regardless of the vow you made to yourself at 17 that you'd never work for less than the equivalent of 13€ an hour again.
What drives me crazy, though, is the potential for exploitation. Of course, I'll do the grunt work! Of course, I'll unload a car! And then, of course, I'll be happy to go back to my regular work where -- were I a freelancer -- I'd be getting a cool 300 yoyos a day, but of course I'm DELIGHTED to take my 60€ before tax! Of course!
Are SHK's the new Yes Men? Yes!
As for my previous co-worker, he went from being a Yes Man to a "real" human being whose thoughts could be respected from one day to the next. As far as I've been able to tell, nothing happened that day to make him more "important" or better of a person (except for the fact he got a key to the building).
Grumble, grumble. Here's to hoping my day comes eventually.
13 March 2013
07 March 2013
Frühling ist da!
Don't get me wrong -- I don't like -30 and snow. I mean, I'm a crazy person, but not that much of a crazy person. While I'm at it, I don't much like a one-and-a-half-month summer.
I mean, life in Germany isn't that much better. It rains 346 days per year, for which ten nice days are hardly any consolation.
As much as I like the fact that Germany is warmer than back home at any given time, the seasons here still -- after six years, mind -- have a way of messing with me. Back home, we have the seasons of: almost winter, winter, still winter and construction. At the beginning in Germany, I liked having the four distinct seasons of: rain, cold rain, warm rain and yes it's still raining, mostly because there were leaves on the trees for more than two and a half months in any given year.
You'd think that, after all this time, the weather here would become normal and expected.
But, no. Really.
Last year I came back home from a winter-break trip to Canada in the middle of March. I ran around snapping pictures of the budding trees, because after so long, I still couldn't believe it. I came back from Finland this week, marvelling at the warm weather and the fact the Germans were still running around in coats like the winter apocalypse was coming (if they only knew a real winter...).
As nice as not having to be bundled up is, though, it just feels wrong. The back of my mind is still, after all these years, saying, "Just you wait! The heavy May/June snowfall that kills all the trees is still coming."
The one thing that was nice about Finland was that it was still winter. Technically the weather was warmer than seasonal, but there was still a bucketload of snow with temperatures regularly dipping fairly below freezing. March. Winter. Cold. Snow. Right.
Germany weather. Wrong.
I should stop complaining and bring out my nice summer pumps before the rain starts again.
But it just feels wrong that spring is springing. Cold weather is in the blood of a Canadian.
It's kind of like that temperature chart that has been floating around the interwebbies since the day the interwebbies were born:
50 Fahrenheit (10 C)
New Yorkers try to turn on the heat
Canadians plant gardens
40 Fahrenheit (4.4 C)
Californians shiver uncontrollably
Canadians sunbathe
35 Fahrenheit (1.6 C)
Italian Cars won't start
Canadians drive with the windows down
32 Fahrenheit (0 C)
Distilled water freezes
Canadian water gets thicker
0 Fahrenheit (-17.9 C)
New York City landlords finally turn on the heat
Canadians have the last cookout of the season
-40 Fahrenheit (-40 C)
Hollywood disintegrates
Canadians rent some videos
-60 Fahrenheit (-51 C)
Mt. St. Helen's freezes
Canadian Girl Guides sell cookies door-to-door
-100 Fahrenheit (-73 C)
Santa Claus abandons the North Pole
Canadians pull down their earflaps
-173 Fahrenheit (-114 C)
Ethyl alcohol freezes
Canadians get frustrated when they can't thaw the keg
-459.4 Fahrenheit (-273 C)
Absolute zero; all atomic motion stops
Canadians start saying "cold, eh?"
-500 Fahrenheit (-295 C)
Hell freezes over
The Flames win the Cup
(Yeah, it's been a slow day. But didn't you know that talking about the weather is a favoured national Canadian pastime?)
I mean, life in Germany isn't that much better. It rains 346 days per year, for which ten nice days are hardly any consolation.
As much as I like the fact that Germany is warmer than back home at any given time, the seasons here still -- after six years, mind -- have a way of messing with me. Back home, we have the seasons of: almost winter, winter, still winter and construction. At the beginning in Germany, I liked having the four distinct seasons of: rain, cold rain, warm rain and yes it's still raining, mostly because there were leaves on the trees for more than two and a half months in any given year.
You'd think that, after all this time, the weather here would become normal and expected.
But, no. Really.
Last year I came back home from a winter-break trip to Canada in the middle of March. I ran around snapping pictures of the budding trees, because after so long, I still couldn't believe it. I came back from Finland this week, marvelling at the warm weather and the fact the Germans were still running around in coats like the winter apocalypse was coming (if they only knew a real winter...).
As nice as not having to be bundled up is, though, it just feels wrong. The back of my mind is still, after all these years, saying, "Just you wait! The heavy May/June snowfall that kills all the trees is still coming."
The one thing that was nice about Finland was that it was still winter. Technically the weather was warmer than seasonal, but there was still a bucketload of snow with temperatures regularly dipping fairly below freezing. March. Winter. Cold. Snow. Right.
Germany weather. Wrong.
I should stop complaining and bring out my nice summer pumps before the rain starts again.
But it just feels wrong that spring is springing. Cold weather is in the blood of a Canadian.
It's kind of like that temperature chart that has been floating around the interwebbies since the day the interwebbies were born:
50 Fahrenheit (10 C)
New Yorkers try to turn on the heat
Canadians plant gardens
40 Fahrenheit (4.4 C)
Californians shiver uncontrollably
Canadians sunbathe
35 Fahrenheit (1.6 C)
Italian Cars won't start
Canadians drive with the windows down
32 Fahrenheit (0 C)
Distilled water freezes
Canadian water gets thicker
0 Fahrenheit (-17.9 C)
New York City landlords finally turn on the heat
Canadians have the last cookout of the season
-40 Fahrenheit (-40 C)
Hollywood disintegrates
Canadians rent some videos
-60 Fahrenheit (-51 C)
Mt. St. Helen's freezes
Canadian Girl Guides sell cookies door-to-door
-100 Fahrenheit (-73 C)
Santa Claus abandons the North Pole
Canadians pull down their earflaps
-173 Fahrenheit (-114 C)
Ethyl alcohol freezes
Canadians get frustrated when they can't thaw the keg
-459.4 Fahrenheit (-273 C)
Absolute zero; all atomic motion stops
Canadians start saying "cold, eh?"
-500 Fahrenheit (-295 C)
Hell freezes over
The Flames win the Cup
(Yeah, it's been a slow day. But didn't you know that talking about the weather is a favoured national Canadian pastime?)
05 March 2013
BLIP: Coming Back
Distance is a tricky little fucker, and I wonder if that makes coming back to Germany after a trip away harder than it needs to be. Not only are you plunged into a sea of disgruntled Germans grumbling into their phones or barking at the person next to them, but the distance between where you are and where you just were a few hours ago makes you pause and wonder -- did your trip actually happen, or were you just daydreaming until a more-disgruntled-than-usual German made you snap out of it?
My thoughts for the evening: I hope I'm just having a rather boring night of REM action right now, and when I wake up I'll be back on the guest mattress in Finland, complete with a certain someone peeking around the door to see if I'm awake yet.
My thoughts for the evening: I hope I'm just having a rather boring night of REM action right now, and when I wake up I'll be back on the guest mattress in Finland, complete with a certain someone peeking around the door to see if I'm awake yet.
02 March 2013
Five Reasons Life is Beautiful: In Pictures
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| Reason #1: Being able to make a best friend happy on her birthday. |
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| Reason #2: Being lucky to not have just one amazing Mooma, but an amazing Äiti to give you a home away from home. |
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| Reason #3: Grumpy Cat and the cheer he inevitably (and likely unwillingly) brings to everyone. |
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| Reason #4: Life is better with a cider in the evenings. |
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| Reason #5: Nuff said. |
15 February 2013
Nobody Told Me I Almost Died Today!
So, here I am taking a break from revising my thesis (so much harder than writing it, btw), and I decide to take a 5-er and check out my news feed on Facebook. Lo and behold, almost every post is about someone going to an end-of-the-world party, and the whole time I'm thinking "Wow, and here I am sitting with my thesis on a Friday ni... Wait?! Weltuntergang? Wasn't that last year?" Only to see, of course, the more, errrmmm... reputable sites informing me that an asteroid was about to whiz past the earth.
NBD, though, because I checked my news feed five minutes after it apparently went by.
Good thing that whole Armageddon thing would probably mean no people would be left on the earth, cuz I'd hate to be that guy who was tolling away on a humanities project (which most people consider to be totally not worthwhile at the best of times) as the world ended.
I hope you would have had a cooler dying story than me, that's all I can say.
But, for the record, were I to totally almost-not-really die again, I'd totally still be kickin' it with them antislavery women-folk.
NBD, though, because I checked my news feed five minutes after it apparently went by.
Good thing that whole Armageddon thing would probably mean no people would be left on the earth, cuz I'd hate to be that guy who was tolling away on a humanities project (which most people consider to be totally not worthwhile at the best of times) as the world ended.
I hope you would have had a cooler dying story than me, that's all I can say.
But, for the record, were I to totally almost-not-really die again, I'd totally still be kickin' it with them antislavery women-folk.
I want me some JT/Barney Stinson NOW, AKA LIKE YESTERDAY
The whole media/culture constellation in Krautland is wack.
I mean, there's the whole GEZtapo thing, which is now attempting to market itself as a "service" rather than a fucking tax that people don't get to vote on democratically (as if voting ever made a super duper difference anyway). Though I have a whole lot I could say about the Geztap... *ahem* Beitragsservice, today (like every day) my beef is with GEMA.*
I hate GEMA because it makes me feel disconnected with the coolness out on the world wide web. Also because it's frustrating to hear about how something is "all the rave", but then find out that you are not able to partake in said rave.
So, today I was watching sxephil on YouTube again (Dear GEMA: Block him and it's over. For realsies.), and he had a video which ever so hinted at the awesomeness of Suit & Tie.
Alas, what did I find?
Oh, yeah.
Normally Clipfish solves most of my problems if I'm trying to find an original video of something embarrassingly awesome (which is even more embarrassing judging by the fact something so awesome only has 35K hits -- awesome website, brah), but there's no official video of Suit & Tie on there yet. Probably because someone at Clipfish is in bed with someone at GEMA, and one of those someones hasn't finished pulling out and washing up in order to upload the fucking video yet.
I hate feeling so restricted in my internet surfing/stalking of cute cat and JT videos. And I hate that it necessitates people to encourage me to do sketchy internet things to get around these issues of silly things like international borders/censorship because the German government/related cronies all want their fair chance to sink their dirty hands into the honey jar.
FFS, I want JT's video just so I can be like "Heh! This is totally Barney's theme song! LMFAO!" with the rest of the world.
Is that too much to ask?!
*For those overseas folk of you, GEMA is a nice system that technically exists to give artists of all kinds the royalties they deserve. This is questionable since GEMA apparently takes a nice slice of that pie. It is also completely annoying because the end result is Germany being more censored from internet awesomeness than communist China. For more news, you could search on the interwebbies and read for days!
I mean, there's the whole GEZtapo thing, which is now attempting to market itself as a "service" rather than a fucking tax that people don't get to vote on democratically (as if voting ever made a super duper difference anyway). Though I have a whole lot I could say about the Geztap... *ahem* Beitragsservice, today (like every day) my beef is with GEMA.*
I hate GEMA because it makes me feel disconnected with the coolness out on the world wide web. Also because it's frustrating to hear about how something is "all the rave", but then find out that you are not able to partake in said rave.
So, today I was watching sxephil on YouTube again (Dear GEMA: Block him and it's over. For realsies.), and he had a video which ever so hinted at the awesomeness of Suit & Tie.
Alas, what did I find?
Oh, yeah.
Normally Clipfish solves most of my problems if I'm trying to find an original video of something embarrassingly awesome (which is even more embarrassing judging by the fact something so awesome only has 35K hits -- awesome website, brah), but there's no official video of Suit & Tie on there yet. Probably because someone at Clipfish is in bed with someone at GEMA, and one of those someones hasn't finished pulling out and washing up in order to upload the fucking video yet.
I hate feeling so restricted in my internet surfing/stalking of cute cat and JT videos. And I hate that it necessitates people to encourage me to do sketchy internet things to get around these issues of silly things like international borders/censorship because the German government/related cronies all want their fair chance to sink their dirty hands into the honey jar.
FFS, I want JT's video just so I can be like "Heh! This is totally Barney's theme song! LMFAO!" with the rest of the world.
Is that too much to ask?!
*For those overseas folk of you, GEMA is a nice system that technically exists to give artists of all kinds the royalties they deserve. This is questionable since GEMA apparently takes a nice slice of that pie. It is also completely annoying because the end result is Germany being more censored from internet awesomeness than communist China. For more news, you could search on the interwebbies and read for days!
14 February 2013
Survivor 26: Douchebags vs. Wingnuts
Survivor 26 Fan vs. Favorites Premiere: An Ode to Boston Rob
(How Fitting for Valentine's Day...)
I don't know what makes me feel older... The fact I distinctly remember drooling over love-of-my-life Colby Donaldson of Australia back when I was at swim camp in Arizona in those olden days when I was still an athlete, or the fact I'll soon be closing in on a decade of post-secondary.
So, anyway, I decided to watch the first episode. And because of the fact I'd actually be more in love (you know, in the way teenage girls are in love with celebrities... as in: not actually) with Boston Rob than Colby if he wasn't married to freaking hot Ambaaah, I couldn't get him out of my head the entire episode. For the obvious reasons, and also because it seems the only way them Survivor folk can keep people interested across the plethora of seasons is to constantly mention either Boston Rob as a HERO OF THE GAME, or Russell Hantz as the DEVIL HIMSELF REINCARNATED.
So, in an ode-to-Boston-Rob way, here are some Season 26 Episode 1 survivor dedications to him -- both intentional and not -- in the first episode.
1. Some crazy woman (they seem to only cast identical blondes, so please excuse me when I don't note her name until she's already voted off) noted the following the snogging of fire-fighter Eddie* and some other blonde who shall remain nameless:
"Romantic alliances do not work on Survivor."
Now, please excuse me, Nameless Crazy Blonde, but may I please direct your attention to the likes of Boston Rob and Ambaaah, as well as Ethan and Jenna. There are also websites for people crazier than me out there who document more of the Survivor-lovers. Maybe YOU do not work on Survivor.
2. Underwear Phillip running a tally of Boston Rob's rules. BR rule number one! BR rule number two! BR rule number three! Blah, blah something about cutting everyone's throats except for family and Ambaaah, because her body is slammin'!
3. Okay, this one is not so obvious, which pretty much means I just made it up, but Eddie's whole "This is like the cool guys at the table in the cafeteria in high school"... First, omfg shut up. Second, I'm pretty sure you were not at BR's cool table in high school.
4. And, in closing to a blog post that turned from cheeky to miserably stalker-obsessed, there's the whole tribal council thing where Jeff felt like reminding people that real players of Survivor know the game moves fast, and that things can even change at tribal council. You know, like how Boston Rob would put a hand on the person's shoulder who was going to be voted out. Because he was the ringleader of the cool guys' table at high school and all that.
Oh, and by the by, kudos to Brandon for pointing that out. After an observant comment like that, you didn't have to see next week's preview to know he's just as snakey as his devil-reincarnated uncle.
*By the way Eddie, props to you for having the aptly named surname of Fox. Also, you're 23. Please stop making me feel like a grandmother/cradle robber. Thank you.
Okay, I've stopped. You may now return to your regular scheduled programming... You know, about stuff you actually care about. And while you're back with your regular scheduled programming, could you please pray for me that I don't also start blogging about Germany's Next Topmodel in a couple weeks?
xthxbye
13 February 2013
The Good, The Bad, The Ugly: Yesterday After Work Edition
So, yesterday after work I went into the shopping district to buy some Salomon shoes. Why, you ask? Well, it seems that I'm giving in to the quasi-bullying I deal with every time I go to Allgäu. In a place where Salomon shoes are a way of life (For the grocery store! Work! Coffee!), my Vans encourage people to pointedly ask me when I'm just gonna give it up and get a pair of ridiculously expensive hiking shoes. (Because, apparently, were I to wear my hiking boots around, I'd immediately be marked as a poser-foreigner. Mountain-people can be so snobby.)
So, anyhoo, there's no fucking way I'm spending around 140 yoyos on shoes. I mean... If I was gonna spend 140 yoyos willingly and in one fell swoop, I'd spend it on books. If someone were to put a gun to my head and say "Buy shoes with your 140 yoyos," my first reaction would be, "Why are you holding a gun to my head and acting all serious saying yoyos, yo," and secondly, "Okay, then let's go to bargain Jumex and I'll go to town buying twelve to fourteen pairs of shoes for my hard-earned dough."
I have, however, decided to "give it up". I got my Salomon shoes all right... IN KID'S SIZE!
Here is the newest edition of "The Good, The Bad, The Ugly", where I would like to discuss my shopping experience of yesterday.
The Good:
Duh! Kid's shoes! I don't know who these ladies are who are buying their size 37 shoes in the women's department and not the children's. Yes, my shoes are that of a child's model. However, I fail to see how spending less than half of what I would were I to shop in the women's section is not f-ing amazing. Women with size 37 feet or smaller who are running around in women's shoes are not cool -- they're stupid. If they're so stupid they would rather spend an extra 100 yoyos on shoes "just so they're not the kids' version", they should probably spend another 100 yoyos on books.*
The Bad:
Don't get me wrong. I'm totally pumped that the days are getting longer. However, this whole dark-at-6:30 thing is weird. It's that weird in-between phase that makes me a little bit uncomfortable. It's like someone waving the carrot of summer in front of my nose, all the while with me knowing that summer is a long ways off. And, despite the extra two hours of sunlight, that it's still very much winter. This depresses me.
The Ugly:
Americans. I'm sorry. I'm even sorrier having to say this because I know most people who meet me or hear me speaking on the phone/to a friend in passing think I'm an American (PS, I hate you). You know what? I'd apply this to Canadians, too. We just sound so fucking stupid when we talk. Maybe I've just been living in the land of the disgruntled, direct German language for too long, or maybe it just stands out more in areas where English isn't the main language spoken, but frick we all sound like blundering idiots.
Exhibit one: Girl in a fur hat that made me think she was a twentieth-century channelling Russian at first glance. "Like, my parents paid soooo much for me to take the SAT's, you know? And if I, like, don't get into the top college that I really, reaaaaaaally want, I'll just be totally devastated. You seriously have no idea."
Exhibit two: Guys wandering behind me. Guy 1: "But, I mean, you probably don't have any problems fitting in here. You're a doctor for chrissakes." Guy 2: "I could totally just hang out with the expat crowd, but I really try to hang out with the locals. It makes the whole experience so much more authentic, you know?"
For some reason, when Germans talk about equally stupid things, it somehow doesn't come across so whiny and valley girl/surfer dude-like. It could be because everyone sounds so angry. Or because they don't speak so loudly.
Or it could be just me and the fact that, since I rarely hear English on a day-to-day basis, my ears pique to it immediately, only to regret it in about 3.5 seconds. (The ugliest fact of them all.)
*I'm not actually hatin' on people who can spend 140 yoyos on hiking shoes (which, unless you live in Allgäu or make monthly visits there, will maybe get used a maximum of three or four times per year tops). I'm insanely jealous. Those people should be saving their 200 yoyos (100 for what they saved by buying the kids pair and 100 for what I told them to use to buy books) and giving it to me.
So, anyhoo, there's no fucking way I'm spending around 140 yoyos on shoes. I mean... If I was gonna spend 140 yoyos willingly and in one fell swoop, I'd spend it on books. If someone were to put a gun to my head and say "Buy shoes with your 140 yoyos," my first reaction would be, "Why are you holding a gun to my head and acting all serious saying yoyos, yo," and secondly, "Okay, then let's go to bargain Jumex and I'll go to town buying twelve to fourteen pairs of shoes for my hard-earned dough."
I have, however, decided to "give it up". I got my Salomon shoes all right... IN KID'S SIZE!
Here is the newest edition of "The Good, The Bad, The Ugly", where I would like to discuss my shopping experience of yesterday.
The Good:
Duh! Kid's shoes! I don't know who these ladies are who are buying their size 37 shoes in the women's department and not the children's. Yes, my shoes are that of a child's model. However, I fail to see how spending less than half of what I would were I to shop in the women's section is not f-ing amazing. Women with size 37 feet or smaller who are running around in women's shoes are not cool -- they're stupid. If they're so stupid they would rather spend an extra 100 yoyos on shoes "just so they're not the kids' version", they should probably spend another 100 yoyos on books.*
The Bad:
Don't get me wrong. I'm totally pumped that the days are getting longer. However, this whole dark-at-6:30 thing is weird. It's that weird in-between phase that makes me a little bit uncomfortable. It's like someone waving the carrot of summer in front of my nose, all the while with me knowing that summer is a long ways off. And, despite the extra two hours of sunlight, that it's still very much winter. This depresses me.
The Ugly:
Americans. I'm sorry. I'm even sorrier having to say this because I know most people who meet me or hear me speaking on the phone/to a friend in passing think I'm an American (PS, I hate you). You know what? I'd apply this to Canadians, too. We just sound so fucking stupid when we talk. Maybe I've just been living in the land of the disgruntled, direct German language for too long, or maybe it just stands out more in areas where English isn't the main language spoken, but frick we all sound like blundering idiots.
Exhibit one: Girl in a fur hat that made me think she was a twentieth-century channelling Russian at first glance. "Like, my parents paid soooo much for me to take the SAT's, you know? And if I, like, don't get into the top college that I really, reaaaaaaally want, I'll just be totally devastated. You seriously have no idea."
Exhibit two: Guys wandering behind me. Guy 1: "But, I mean, you probably don't have any problems fitting in here. You're a doctor for chrissakes." Guy 2: "I could totally just hang out with the expat crowd, but I really try to hang out with the locals. It makes the whole experience so much more authentic, you know?"
For some reason, when Germans talk about equally stupid things, it somehow doesn't come across so whiny and valley girl/surfer dude-like. It could be because everyone sounds so angry. Or because they don't speak so loudly.
Or it could be just me and the fact that, since I rarely hear English on a day-to-day basis, my ears pique to it immediately, only to regret it in about 3.5 seconds. (The ugliest fact of them all.)
*I'm not actually hatin' on people who can spend 140 yoyos on hiking shoes (which, unless you live in Allgäu or make monthly visits there, will maybe get used a maximum of three or four times per year tops). I'm insanely jealous. Those people should be saving their 200 yoyos (100 for what they saved by buying the kids pair and 100 for what I told them to use to buy books) and giving it to me.
08 February 2013
I Like Books
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Welcome to the latest installment of "Building my Library/Books Only I Like"!
It's been an embarrassingly long time since I bought myself any books. The last two books I purchased from Amazon were for some book reviews I had to write for uni two semesters ago, and the last time I bought books for funsies/the expansion of my own personal library, I was still researching for an old Master's thesis topic which has long bit the dust.
Now that I'm done my last exam and am pretty much done my MA excepting the conclusion of my thesis and a lot of bureaucratic nonsense, I've decided to start loving reading and researching again.
So, today and yesterday, I received four awesomely awesome books to help me on my way (I suppose being home to get them is the plus point to locking myself in the flat over Karneval).
I've got:
Sister Societies: Women's Antislavery Organizations in Antebellum America by Beth Salerno, The Abolitionist Sisterhood: Women's Political Culture in Antebellum America edited by Jean Fagan Yellin and John C. Van Horne, Liberating Language: Sites of Rhetorical Education in Nineteenth-Century Black America by Shirley Wilson Logan and Education as Freedom: African American Educational Thought and Activism edited by Noel S. Anderson and Haroon Kharem.
I already tore through my library's copy of The Abolitionist Sisterhood a good year and a half ago, but it's such a good anthology that I wanted to have it to peruse at my leisure (yeah, I'm the weirdo who does that). As for the rest, although I bought them with the primary purpose of background reading for further research, I hope they'll be of use in sprucing up one of my chapters for my Master's thesis.
Yaaaay! Books! So much more satisfying than a cute pair of heels! (Though I wouldn't say no to the heels, either, if anyone's offering!)
Welcome to the latest installment of "Building my Library/Books Only I Like"!
It's been an embarrassingly long time since I bought myself any books. The last two books I purchased from Amazon were for some book reviews I had to write for uni two semesters ago, and the last time I bought books for funsies/the expansion of my own personal library, I was still researching for an old Master's thesis topic which has long bit the dust.
Now that I'm done my last exam and am pretty much done my MA excepting the conclusion of my thesis and a lot of bureaucratic nonsense, I've decided to start loving reading and researching again.
So, today and yesterday, I received four awesomely awesome books to help me on my way (I suppose being home to get them is the plus point to locking myself in the flat over Karneval).
I've got:
Sister Societies: Women's Antislavery Organizations in Antebellum America by Beth Salerno, The Abolitionist Sisterhood: Women's Political Culture in Antebellum America edited by Jean Fagan Yellin and John C. Van Horne, Liberating Language: Sites of Rhetorical Education in Nineteenth-Century Black America by Shirley Wilson Logan and Education as Freedom: African American Educational Thought and Activism edited by Noel S. Anderson and Haroon Kharem.
I already tore through my library's copy of The Abolitionist Sisterhood a good year and a half ago, but it's such a good anthology that I wanted to have it to peruse at my leisure (yeah, I'm the weirdo who does that). As for the rest, although I bought them with the primary purpose of background reading for further research, I hope they'll be of use in sprucing up one of my chapters for my Master's thesis.
Yaaaay! Books! So much more satisfying than a cute pair of heels! (Though I wouldn't say no to the heels, either, if anyone's offering!)
07 February 2013
Kölle Alaaf!
No offence to all you born-and-bred Rheinland people (or the "immigrants" who try really, really hard to fit in), but I just really can't take Karneval. I'm not a fan of loud, drunk groups of people in the first place, and those same loud, drunk groups of people take on a whole new dimension of crazy when they're dressed up.
Yes. Karneval is like mostly all the things I hate in the entire world mashed together into one week of debauchery.
Drunk groups of people making a ruckus? Check.
People dressed up like wackos? Check.
Schlager? Check.
Clowns? Also check.
I suppose I sound like a real downer (and I suppose I am), but the last time I dressed up for Halloween (which is as close as we Canucks get to this sort of clusterfuck), I was twelve. I mean, unless you count the time I went on a pub crawl when I was nineteen and put on a pair of shorts, a skimpy top and a cowboy hat to call myself a "sexy cowgirl". (See the link -- NSFW -- of other "sexy cowgirls" who highlight the fact that, as long as you're wearing a cowboy hat, you are a cowgirl. Full stop.) But anyway, I also don't like clowns. Or having to watch my step on the street to avoid vomit.
Normally I flee. Preferably to Canada. Really, though, I'd go anywhere. But, for a multitude of reasons, I find myself stuck here over the weekend.
So, after work at one job all day and then a meeting for my other job, I headed to the grocery store to stock up on provisions since I'm locking myself in my flat until Tuesday. Standing in line before me was a mouse buying pizza, and behind me were two dudes in bear suits buying a couple bottles of beer. Those were those same bears I saw on my walk home peeing on cars.
Ah, Karneval.
Yes. Karneval is like mostly all the things I hate in the entire world mashed together into one week of debauchery.
Drunk groups of people making a ruckus? Check.
People dressed up like wackos? Check.
Schlager? Check.
Clowns? Also check.
I suppose I sound like a real downer (and I suppose I am), but the last time I dressed up for Halloween (which is as close as we Canucks get to this sort of clusterfuck), I was twelve. I mean, unless you count the time I went on a pub crawl when I was nineteen and put on a pair of shorts, a skimpy top and a cowboy hat to call myself a "sexy cowgirl". (See the link -- NSFW -- of other "sexy cowgirls" who highlight the fact that, as long as you're wearing a cowboy hat, you are a cowgirl. Full stop.) But anyway, I also don't like clowns. Or having to watch my step on the street to avoid vomit.
Normally I flee. Preferably to Canada. Really, though, I'd go anywhere. But, for a multitude of reasons, I find myself stuck here over the weekend.
So, after work at one job all day and then a meeting for my other job, I headed to the grocery store to stock up on provisions since I'm locking myself in my flat until Tuesday. Standing in line before me was a mouse buying pizza, and behind me were two dudes in bear suits buying a couple bottles of beer. Those were those same bears I saw on my walk home peeing on cars.
Ah, Karneval.
19 January 2013
What Made my Day...
...The fact that you can order Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, albeit for an extortionate price, at Amazon.de.
I no longer need to feel guilty about eating the stuff shipped to me from Canada, although it may continue to be cheaper to keep asking people to bring it with them than ordering on the internet.
Day. Made.
I no longer need to feel guilty about eating the stuff shipped to me from Canada, although it may continue to be cheaper to keep asking people to bring it with them than ordering on the internet.
Day. Made.
08 January 2013
How I've been Feeling Lately
(No offence intended to those of you I do like... Which is more than likely if you're reading here in the first place.)
01 January 2013
A New Year
And a Happy 2013 to you!
I hope you all rang in 2013 happily, and I wish you the best of luck in writing "2013" and not "2012" on your first try when noting the date in the next couple of weeks!
Are you the kind of person who makes New Year's resolutions?
I'm normally not. I'm actually a firm believer that, if you really want to do something and stick to it, you should do it when you want to do it and not on January 1st when there's all that pressure.
In Stuttgart yesterday, we attempted this whole thing practised by a friend of a friend's husband where, when the clock strikes twelve, you eat a grape each time the bell tolls (for a total of twelve) while reciting twelve wishes to yourself that you hope to come true for the next year.
You know, when you're listening to the bells on Sunday morning, it doesn't really occur to you that the bell tolls rather quickly. When you're trying to chew/swallow grapes during those seconds, however, you realize the bell actually rings at a rather speedy pace.
I admit I was only coordinated enough to get through about nine wishes (which only really consisted of key words because I'm not a very fast thinker), and those wishes were not so much resolutions as things I already plan to get done this year, but it was a cool idea nonetheless.
Though I don't really make resolutions, the one thing I'd really like to do this year is stop forgetting to not stand like a German and correct my posture. I've been trying to rectify this for a couple of months already with little success.
So, that's my ongoing goal, among others.
Yeah...
Happy New Year, с Новым годом, bonne année, gutes Neues, etc.
(Standing German picture from http://blog.corewalking.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/4.-Clothed-Slouch-Redux2.jpg)
I hope you all rang in 2013 happily, and I wish you the best of luck in writing "2013" and not "2012" on your first try when noting the date in the next couple of weeks!
Are you the kind of person who makes New Year's resolutions?
I'm normally not. I'm actually a firm believer that, if you really want to do something and stick to it, you should do it when you want to do it and not on January 1st when there's all that pressure.
In Stuttgart yesterday, we attempted this whole thing practised by a friend of a friend's husband where, when the clock strikes twelve, you eat a grape each time the bell tolls (for a total of twelve) while reciting twelve wishes to yourself that you hope to come true for the next year.
You know, when you're listening to the bells on Sunday morning, it doesn't really occur to you that the bell tolls rather quickly. When you're trying to chew/swallow grapes during those seconds, however, you realize the bell actually rings at a rather speedy pace.
I admit I was only coordinated enough to get through about nine wishes (which only really consisted of key words because I'm not a very fast thinker), and those wishes were not so much resolutions as things I already plan to get done this year, but it was a cool idea nonetheless.
Though I don't really make resolutions, the one thing I'd really like to do this year is stop forgetting to not stand like a German and correct my posture. I've been trying to rectify this for a couple of months already with little success.
Yeah...
Happy New Year, с Новым годом, bonne année, gutes Neues, etc.
(Standing German picture from http://blog.corewalking.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/4.-Clothed-Slouch-Redux2.jpg)
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