Today is a special holiday only here in our town. The name translates to Silly Thursday, wherein people wear long white shirts and white long-johns and paint their noses red to show how wild and crazy they are. And also how drunk they can get. Yeah, Bavarians try to chase away the winter blues with Fasching. It’s the local version of Mardi Gras, and I really should try to get into it, because God knows I need something to distract me from the fact that it’s still winter, but I just can’t. Mardis Gras with no zydeco and no samba? No thank you. Continue reading
Monthly Archives: January 2008
So this exercising thing… no, I’m not seeing much in the way of results, but I do feel better. Stronger, more… balanced, I guess. Less likely to trip over things, more able to gallop up the stairs to get the phone and be able to answer with “Hello?” instead of my usual “Wa-HEEEEEEEZE!” This is progress, right? Continue reading
There’s an organization here in OurTown, called Women for Women (I’m translating), whose function is to help immigrant women adjust to life here. It’s a great idea, you know, mostly the men come to work and have colleagues and such, and usually some kind of employer-provided orientation, and the women are just kind of stuck with the kids, having to do the shopping and deal with bureaucracy and navigate life as a housewife with little or no preparation. So the organization offers tutoring and homework help for the kids (how do you help your kid with their German homework when their German is already better than yours?), German lessons for the moms, playgroups for moms of babies and toddlers, and… every Tuesday from 9-11, a 2-hour breakfast and chitchat session in the Lutheran church hall. Continue reading
Can you even imagine how long it must have taken to organize this?
Song du jour of the day: Ready for the Victory, by Modern Talking. I hate that song, but it is diabolically catchy.
Apparently I love the Austrians only in alternate years. Because in 2006 they let me watch the Seahawks beat the Panthers, but then in 2007 they had snowboarding women on while the Bears were beating the Seahawks (hang on, maybe they were looking out for me after all…). Continue reading
A teenaged cat, that is. Lilu will be a year old in May, but she’s acting like a teenager now, and out of the house most of the time. She scampers into my bedroom every morning, extravagantly snuggly and tracking mud all over my sheets, but otherwise I hardly see her. So yesterday while I was at work, a neighbor turned up to tell Ignatz that Lilu was in their yard, flirting SHAMELESSLY with another neighborhood cat, Eminem, literally flinging herself at his feet (yes, I mean literally – I have seen her do this when she wants a kitty treat from one of her staff, she flings herself down to show off her speckly belly, and her head makes a little thonk sound on the floor, it’s actually kind of alarming). Eminem, says the Helpful Neighbor, is neutered, and clearly at a loss as to how to respond.
Song du jour of the day: Bette Davis Eyes, by Kim Carnes.
It was just one day. And there has been one other day like that, for a total of two since DrBob started working in London last September. Two days in five months, that can happen to anybody. It’s not the permanent state of our relationship. It was just exhausting while I was in it, is all. Continue reading
From screaming at the Sniglet… no, not “all day,” because he only got home from school at 2, and I had his lunch all ready so he didn’t even have a pretext for picking a fight with me until 3 or so. God, has it only been four hours? Four hours of “two words, mama – shut. up,” and “I hate you” and copying everything I say in that wiseass voice kids use when they want to be sold to the gypsies. It only took him four hours to break me. I finally threatened to hit him and sent him to bed, 90 minutes early.
I fought like hell for this child, for Ignatz to have a sibling. A year of fighting with my husband, then a year in couples therapy, then a year of separation before he finally accepted that I shouldn’t have to wait until his entire career is done before I can do (part of) what I want with my life, and then when he did relent, his condition was that I wait another year. Four years in all, I waited.
Song du jour of the day: Why, by Annie Lennox.
So I ordered exercisey, workouty DVDs from amazon.co.uk, had them delivered to DrBob, and he brought them home last weekend. What is this, Wednesday? Okay, so that’s three evenings of Pilates and two mornings of Hip Hop Abs! so far, and hm. I’m not seeing much in the way of results yet. Continue reading
From this article in Time Magazine:
Stress puts into motion a biological cascade involving hormones, glands and neural circuits, all activating one another in a complex feedback loop. When you are stuck in traffic or overwhelmed at work or worn down by the kids, the hypothalamus–a structure buried deep in the midbrain–tells your adrenal gland to pump out a supply of the stress hormone cortisol.