This wasn't my idea...: April 2005

What a girl wants...

This will NOT be any kind of lyric-writing homage to Christina... That just happened to be a catchy intro to what I will be talking about tonight. Jenny and I were discussing tonight, on the phone. After Saturday night, several things have become apparent to me: 1) I am, indeed, too uh... I can't think of the word I want, but I'm thinking, like "prude-ish" or "morally structured" or "naive" or "innocent?" or "freaked out by all things sexual"? I'm not sure what phrase we're going for here, but I think if you know me -- you know what I mean. 2) The kind of person who is like me, is not the kind of person who should attend a "pleasure party" with a bunch of girls she does not really know (and Jenny! haha..). 3) After attending the ill-advised party, and seeing how far behind other girls she really is -- the kind of girl like me should NOT go out drinking with strangers. 4) That kind of girl should not have Salt-N-Peppa for a theme song.

ANYWAY. The weekend was a learning experience. And having discussed it to death with Jenny, I have come to conclude that I have always been right when it comes to the secret of our gender: there is no secret. We are pretty straight-forward. Guys THINK we're playing games, but we are not. When we send you confused signals -- it's because WE'RE confused. When we tell you things -- it's because we want you to listen. When we say "You don't listen to me" -- it's because we think you're not listening to us. When we act like we like you -- it's usually because we like you. When we act like we don't like you -- it's usually because you're annoying us.

This is what a girl wants (contrary to Christina's whiny lyrics... as decided upon by me with some help from Jenny): A girl wants 1) a guy to do what he says he's going to do. If you're going to call me -- just call me! Don't say "I'm going to call you" .. because that leaves room for a slip-up. Then you don't call, and I have to be pissed. 2) a guy who will be honest with her. Like Horton the Elephant -- say what you mean, and mean what you say. There's some fun in flirting and playing games, but at some point -- just be honest. If I'm already flirting with you -- I already like you, so you're not going to be embarassed. At the very least, I will find your honesty refreshing and attractive. So you'll have that going for you... 3) a guy who has feelings. Now I'm not saying we even have to talk about them. I'm just saying you should have them and be able to access them from time to time when the occasion calls for it. You don't have to stay up all night analyzing our relationship (I'm doing that all day long with my girl friends, anyway! I don't need you for that!), all I'm asking is that you realize we have a relationship (with a big R or a little r...) and if we're in a relationship/friendship/'courtship'/whatever... you care about me on some level. So know that. And be willing to slip it into the conversation every once in awhile.. and not just when it suits your needs (if you know what I mean). 4) a guy who can clearly (but not demanding-ly) articulate what he wants. When I ask, "Where do you want to go tonight?" and you say "I don't care", and then we go somewhere and you pout all night - that is neither cool, nor attractive. And it falls under the category of being honest, as well. So if I ask you a question (unless it's rhetorical - which means it does not require an answer of any kind), I'm probably asking because I really want to know something. "Whatever" is not a good answer. It's boring. And instead of making me happy that I get my own way, it annoys me that you're being so irritating, and lazy. Have an opinion -- voice it -- defend it... but don't be an ass. It's a fine line to walk.

Anyway. That's all this girl wants...for now... Of course, in the immortal words of the guy who plays Adam Sandler's best friend, the limo driver, in "The Wedding Singer".... don't we all end up just wanting "someone to hold me, and tell me that everything is gonna be Ok."..?

Oh. And don't try to irritate me on purpose. You think it's cute. It's not. Just irritating.

DISCLAIMER: These rules may not apply to every girl, so if you really want to know what the girl of your dreams wants, just ask her. She probably has a list, and is probably dying to share it with someone. And remember, there are certain times and circumstances when the list goes out the window... for me, those times usually involve the "Loopy Make-out Drink" (Malibu and juice ... for anyone who's taking notes...), So no matter the girl, always proceed with caution... just make sure to proceed.

Unrelated PS: Today, Felicity and Ben got back together... (sigh)... And now she must decide between going home with him for the summer, or staying in New York to do an internship.. (dum da-dum dum...) And I'm beginning to remember all the reasons I loved and hated that show when I watched it the first time. Thank god for WE! Now bring back the original "Wonderwoman" series, and I will be so set for life.... or at least a great while...

The wisdom of Salt N Peppa...

I used to think Vanilla Ice had it right: "Anything less than the best is a felony..." But the more I think about it, the more I think I must have lowered (or lost?) my standards somewhere along the way. Mr. B. says if you expect things to turn out badly - you are pleasantly suprised when they don't! I'm not sure if that's a good way to look at things or not. But if you expect the worst, you're never disappointed, right? So Jenny and I were talking of "girl-ish things" today (or yesterday?) in the kitchen at school. And we wondered aloud why I'm such a silly thing when it comes to discussing (or actually doing) things of an "adult" nature.. (here we are on an internet blog, and I still can't bring myself to discuss things with the correct terminology!! How repressed am I??) Anyway. I came to the conclusion that I am 25 years old, and now is my time for having fun. I watched an old episode of "Felicity" on WE yesterday. In it, Felcity and Ben broke up because Ben thought Felicity really loved him, and he wasn't really ready for that. And so she pretended that she was ok with a purely superficial relationship -- "no strings attached", and in reality, she really wasn't ok with that and things ended poorly. But I'm thinking perhaps now is that time in MY life for superficial relationships... Let's be honest - that time was probably a couple years ago, but it's difficult to have superficial, meaningless relationships when you live with a bunch of guys who want to "kick that guy's ass" everytime someone messes with you. It can be intimidating to a potential boyfriend when you bring him home to a house of hostile men... anyway. But by lowering expectations and resigning myself to the fact that maybe there really ISN'T that one special someone out there for me (as Joe has always maintained), perhaps I will someday be pleasantly suprised. Perhaps not, but at least I won't be disappointed, right? Anyway. The reason Salt N Peppa fit in here is because I am in the market for a new theme. Having kicked Vanilla Ice and his talk of "anything less than the best" to the curb... I have begun my search for an even better theme song to describe my new superficial relationship-seeking, standards-lowering self. And so far, I've got: "If I.. wanna take a guy... home with me tonight... It's none of yo' business!" But although it has the content and the feeling I'm looking for, I'm not sure it has the flow... So I'm still taking suggestions. And yes, Jake, I am aware that you not only disapprove of blogging in general, but you also disapprove of the writing out of song lyrics (I have not forgotten the stern look and disappointed-in-me- lecture you gave when you caught me writing Fiona Apple lyrics in my World History notebook in Ms. Ogren's class back in... '97? '98? ...). I guess I'll just have to deal with your sarcasm when it comes, eh?

The world becomes my oyster....

The trip to Germany continued/concluded in this way: After getting assurances from KLM that my bag would come some time before I left ... or at least sometime before I turn 30... they provided me with a) a small cosmetic bag with: an XXL T-shirt, a razor and shaving cream, laundry detergent in a bottle the size of my pinky, deoderant in a bottle the size of my pinky, a little mini-tooth brush (no paste), and b) a voucher for 25 Euro off my next KLM flight in this calendar year. So. That was good. And helpful. Obviously, whoever packs the little emergency bags was not American. No offense Europeans, but an American would have put in more deoderant, some shampoo, and I'm guessing some sort of sedative or headache medicine. And 25 Euro to spend on KLM in the next year? Let me just say "woo. hoo." Can't wait to get my 25 Euros worth of travelin' in! (We ended up having to drive two hours back to Berlin to get my bag, and then two hours back home again... so my 25 Euro voucher wouldn't have even really covered the gas cost of that trip ... had we not obtained our gas for very very cheap in Poland!!) The rest of my trip was WONDERFUL!! I hated to leave, and still am quite sad about being back, actually. I woke up this morning (almost a week later) and honestly felt as homesick for Torgelow, Germany as I had for Wisconsin the first few weeks I lived in Germany (in 2001). It's a strange sensation -- to be homesick for a place that is not your home. Anyway.

I spent the week with my relatives: Christa (Dad's cousin's daughter's daughter -- I usually just call her Christa... or Mutti occasionally, when it just seems easier... don't worry Mom, I know she's not really my mother!), her two boys: Thomas and Matthias, Christa's boyfriend: Herbert, Christa's sister: Cordula ("Mutti Zwei"), her husband: Manfred, their daughter: Anke, and their dog: Goldi. Also visited were: Tante Ka(with an umlaut)te -- pronounced like Katie, sort of (cousin to my father) and her husband: Karl Wilhelm; Herbert's parents: whose names I never did learn -- we all just call them "Oma and Opa", and numerous other friends, relations, and people I just met!

Thomas and Matthias deserve their own paragraph because they are AWESOME! They are my "brothers" and they are twins! They are 28 years old, and about the nicest two boys I have ever met. If I could find an American guy as wonderful as them and not related to me... well... it would rock. Anyway. Matthias works for the German Army (as seen in photos previously posted), and Thomas works for a movie theater as a sort of machine technician. Thomas is also going to be a dad!! His girlfriend, Dani (also seen in pictures below), found out she was pregnant while I was there -- which I thought was awesome, of course! I'm going to have to find a way to get back there once the baby's born for SURE.

So I spent my week in Germany with the people listed above, and we did any number of great things. Of course, they don't seem great when you tell it. I described it to someone at school as: just hanging around home---in Germany. In other words, we did all the things I probably would have done at home: we went shopping, rode bikes, visited with relatives, went to the movies, drove around, looked at pictures, watched TV... the usual! It was perfect! I had the best time!! By the way, if you EVER have the oportunity to go to a movie theater in Germany --- oh MY god -- DO IT! It is the single coolest thing I have done in...a long while. Let me break it down for you right quick. Ok. First of all, there is a bar when you come in. So if you want to just hang out and talk with the people who work there (for example: Thomas!) you just have a seat and hang out. But when you go into the theater... the seats are set up basically like ours. But then there's this long ledge that runs the length of the row in front of you. On the ledge every two or three seats, is a keypad...and a menu! Seriously. You sit there, and you punch in what you'd like to drink (beer, wine, mixed drink, pop, water,... whatever.. popcorn, chips, nachos, more substantial food even, etc...) and then they bring it to you while you watch the movie. And I'm telling you -- it is the ONLY way to watch movies! I sat there with drink in hand and watched "Meet the Fockers" in German - withOUT subtitles! - and had the time of my life. (In German, the title is: Mein Braut, Ihre Vater, und ich... or something very like that.. translation: "My bride, her father and I".) I had such fun, in fact, I went back a couple days later with Matthias and saw "Hitch"! "Beautiful! Lovely! Wish you were here!" (spontaneous quotes come to mind from the movie "French Kiss"...don't ask me why, they just do!) I didn't get to see any soccer while there, which was sad. But Matthias gave me a scarf and hat from the Berlin EisBaers, which is a hockey team. And I bought a new Hansa jersey in Poland for very very cheap. I even bought one for the Boy. Although, he'll have a few years before he's big enough to wear it. I ALSO got a FC Koeln jersey and one of Matthias' own jerseys from Droegeheide... so that rocked. Everything rocked. I had an awesome time. I played with the new dog! I took lots of pictures! I baked cake! I ate cake! (LOTS of cake...) I rode a bike for, like, 10 km! I touched the Baltic Sea! I saw German movies and watched German TV! I went to Poland! I saw Matthias' apartment, and met Thomas' girlfriend! I worked in the garden! (yes, I said "worked"!) I ate different meats of various and unknown origins with hardly a gag! And finally... in the end... I got back on a plane for America without TOO many tears at the airport....

The sad journey home began at 2 in the morning. I didn't sleep the night before because I was under strict instructions from Matthias not to cry at the airport. Therefore, I did all my crying (I hoped) the night before. I wrote notes to Thomas and Dani, and Matthias and I fancied myself very eloquent and emotional.. The notes brought me to tears... But they were in my horrible German, so who really knows what I actually said! Anyway. At 2 AM we were up... by 3 AM we were on the road to Berlin. Matthias drove. I sat shotgun. Christa and Herbert slept in the backseat. It's kind of a blur, really, because I was trying to make small talk with Matthias without crying or getting sad. But I'm really really glad he was driving. It was nice to spend that time with him. We got my boarding pass, and then sat in a coffee shop until I had to board. Then there were hugs and kisses, and yes -- some tears. I remained fairly strong... Christa wept.. Herbert seemed allright... but even Matthias cried a little, I think... At least it was difficult for him NOT to cry, so that's almost the same thing. I tried to ignore the strange looks I got from the other passengers as I boarded the plane with tears occasionally sneaking out... But the best was when two German passengers next to me thought I was sleeping later in the flight. And they said to each other, in German: "Do you think she's ok?.. Yeah. Except she's wearing a Hansa jersey... Really? Do you think she's German?... If she is, she must be from the DDR -- no one else would wear Hansa..."

Hell yeah.

If I were a rich girl....

If I were super-rich... I would go to Germany all the time. I'd probably have a summer home there, or something. I'd seriously even think about living there if it weren't for my mother who would most assuredly veto such an idea. Anyway. I'd totally go there all the time if I were very rich. But I would never again fly KLM... even if they GAVE me a ticket (which I feel they really should after our last meeting...) SOOOOOO this is how it all went down....

I got on the plane in Chicago at noon. No problem. I hate flying, but I sufficently annesthitized myself with the cunning use of small bottles of airline provided Skyy vodka. (At this point, the airline and I were on friendly -- if somewhat hesistant-- terms.) We took off and landed in Detroit. No problem. I was then allowed enough time to go to McDonalds, tour the lovely Detroit airport (and yes, it really is lovely) and read a book (yes. An entire book.) before my next flight to Amsterdam. From Amsterdam I was slated to fly to Berlin, and there be met by my Mutti (who is really NOT my mom, in case you're tuning in late.. She's the lady I stay with in Germany who is the same age as my mom, and is related to me --- but very distantly -- and saying "mutti" is easier than figuring out the lineage and then vocabulary to describe her correctly...). BUT (and here comes the fun part!!) we had to make an emergency landing in Boston, Mass. Apparently, someone was ill and they had to land. Now I'm not blaming the airline that someone was ill... but I am blaming them for the fact that it took us more than two hours to take off again! Come on!! People! So while sitting there (and we were asked to remain sitting, please, for the remainder of the wait...), I used my cell phone (God bless technology!) to alert my parents who then called Christa (Mutti) in Germany, and told her I would not be arriving as scheduled (if at all!!!). We FINALLY took off, and landed in Amsterdam .. Of course, by the time we arrived in Amsterdam, my flight to Berlin had already left -- and so had the next two flights after that. There were only two more options available... the one in three hours... and the one in three minutes. Of course, of the many languages I studied in my lifetime -- Dutch was never one of them (oh AJ, how I could have used you this trip!!). So I only understood -- Berlin ...blah..blah.. blah..dutch...dutch..dutch... C3. So I look up and am at A7... and I have to run all through the A's back to 1, and then through the B's, and finally to the C's. Where the KLM lady wouldn't let me get on the plane because my boarding pass wasn't for that plane. Nevermind the dozen or so other people from my other flight that were all having the same problem. And I swear to you, it was like that part in "Meet the Parents" when Ben Stiller is trying to get on a plane and the flight attendent is typing ridiculously fast... and then nothing comes up... and then she types again for like ten minutes...?? You know? It was just like that. Finally, she lets me (and my fellow jet-lagged passengers) and there's litterally like three other people on the plane. Basically she could have just let everyone in the airport on that plane, and there would still have been free seats! So by the time we take off and land -- I am about three hours later than I was supposed to be, and I'm praying that somehow my German relatives know about this. THEN -- my suitcase doesn't arrive in Berlin. To make matters worse, all the taking off and landing of the day has completely deafened me in the right ear. I couldn't hear a thing. Then my ear pops and it's the worst pain I have ever personally experienced, and all I could hear was ringing and echoes. Echoes in German are the worst kinds of echoes. I hadn't a clue what was going on around me. I couldn't understand a word!! It was horrid. And then through the sea of strange people speaking a strange language -- my hero! Thomas! My "brother" (see above comments about Mutti and relationship, etc...) was there to take care of me. And take care of me, he did. As soon as he figured from my broken German what the problem was -- he immediately handled everything. And we were the first people in this tiny little office. All the other poor Americans from my flight turned up a while later with that horrible, dazed, sad, scared look on all their faces. The same look I'm sure was on mine right up until I saw Thomas! So he took care of things. BUT of course, KLM wasn't done pissing me off yet. ....

However... the hour grows late,... and I've had enough typing for one night. If you made it to the bottom of this long narative -- congratulations to you... but you probably should find some more things to do to occupy your free time.....

"Give a man a fish..."

Only in this case, the "man" is a girl (me!) and the "fish" is the ability to download pictures to my blog.... (And the rest of that saying goes, "Give a man a fish, and he eats for a day -- teach a man to fish and he will never be hungry..." OR something like that.) The end result is, of course, that now that I know how to download pictures (Thank you, Bradley...), I will be able to do so endlessly until you are all as tired of seeing pictures of Caleb as the rest of my family .. and friends... and colleages.. and strangers... are! Now I'm running a fever, I haven't slept in pretty close to 24 or more hours, my inner clock is still on German time, and well... I'm going to bed. So tune in next time for: "Deutschland: was geht jetzt los??" OR "Why I will never again fly KLM"...