so, this weekend I finally went where I hadn't gone before in the ever evolving husband-wife boundary issue. Inspired by some of my male friends' stories, how their wives routinely would throw out questionable (clothing) items of theirs without asking and them apparently accepting this fact of wife-control without any further arguments, I decided it was time to move to this deeper level of intimacy or whatever this kind of behavior could be labeled.
Weeks passed, as I over and over tried to throw out the one item of Dario's I had my eyes on for disposal for years. These old, strangely bleach-stained jeans of his, which I had nicknamed "sperm-pants" due to the nature of the stain's shape and appearance.
Knowing, however, that Dario loved these jeans I found myself unable to overstep this boundary. I just couldn't throw something out that wasn't mine.
One day, I came home as Dario was cleaning up a bit (a rare sight). He had garbage bags set up into which he had dumped large amounts of papers. Glancing into the bags (ok. rummaging suspiciously through them) I found a couple of my things which he had tossed out without asking. I was upset but my short-term memory is too bad to remember these little things and therefore makes it impossible for me to hold a grudge. I probably would if I would only remember.
Anyway, so I told him how this upset me.
"Hey, why are you throwing out my stuff?? I don't throw out yours without asking! That's just not right," I complained.
- "Ahr, I don't care...we have so much sh*t in the house. You can throw my crap out, too. If I won't notice, I don't care," he replied dismissively.
This permission must have registered somewhere in my leaking brain, for about a week ago I took my first step in throwing out Dario-accumulated-garbage WITHOUT asking him (->if I ask him, he always has plans for whatever is in discussion).
It was a crib-rail he had dragged in from the garbage three weeks earlier and which had ever since been standing next to the main entry. Ugly but apparently with potential. He wanted to turn it into a picture holder. Never mind the fact that he needed costum glass plates made and probably would have to saw off one end to make the thing look even.
Dario, I told him when he first brought it in, when are you going to undertake this project? You don't even have time to put up the pictures we have ready-made frames for. I waited a year for you to put up the curtains in Maia's room until finally Rosa did it. I just don't see this happening."
"Don't worry. Everything is planned," he updated me a few days ago not having noticed that I had thrown the cribrail out a week before. I didn't say anything; just felt really guilty, for I had forgotten (thanks to my brain-leakage) that at some point..not too long ago...he had given me permission for such action.
Anyway, yesterday he noticed the thing was gone and I finally had to admit that I threw it out.
He was upset and threatened to start throwing out all of my sh*t, too.
After feeling bad and guilty for about a day, trying to figure out why I would do such a horrible thing and this so isn't like me, I fortunately finally remembered his oral permission and held him to it. Of course, he kept on arguing.
Dude, I pleaded, I'm scarred, ok. I've seen you drag in carburators and other engine parts, leaving them on my foyer table for weeks. Heck, once you spent 800 bucks on an engine laying in someone's basement just because you thought it was a good deal. Never mind the fact that you didn't have a matching car, a way to move the engine from it's location, and no budget to be spending 800 bucks.
- I don't care... I'm gonna start throwing out aaaall your sh*t, he said as if I had said nothing of sense.
At this point of the conversation I just gave up.
All I know is that I still have plenty of things in my house that have no place anywhere but .. oh, so much potential to come into functionality ONE day.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Saturday, March 26, 2005
The Terri Schiavo dilemma
I'm sure by now everyone is familiar with the Terri Schiavo case.
A woman having been in a vegetative state for 15 years, awake but not aware the doctors say. According to her husband her living will was to end an existence as such. He has gone through 19 courts over the years, all of which gave him right. Terri Schiavo's parents are fighting the Supreme Court's decision of disconnecting the tubes... or actually, they have been disconnected and they want them reconnected.
Anyway, what this case made me ponder are two things:
1. Are there actually people who would like to continue their life tied to a bed not being able to move anything at all, being kept alive artificially? And what about a case like this? According to the story Terri Schiavo doesn't even know she is alive. Would anyone want to live such an existence...if they knew beforehand it's coming? I certainly wouldn't want to burden my family with such pain and cost..
2. And this one is a really tough one for me. So, ... if you believe in God you know that suicide is apparently unacceptable (throwing away gift of God and plan or something like that). Murder isn't very much the thing to do either... except when at war, if I'm correct.
So, what does a case like this fall into? Is it suicide, murder, or is it an acceptable death, for she wouldn't live without the medical assistance anyway?
...
A woman having been in a vegetative state for 15 years, awake but not aware the doctors say. According to her husband her living will was to end an existence as such. He has gone through 19 courts over the years, all of which gave him right. Terri Schiavo's parents are fighting the Supreme Court's decision of disconnecting the tubes... or actually, they have been disconnected and they want them reconnected.
Anyway, what this case made me ponder are two things:
1. Are there actually people who would like to continue their life tied to a bed not being able to move anything at all, being kept alive artificially? And what about a case like this? According to the story Terri Schiavo doesn't even know she is alive. Would anyone want to live such an existence...if they knew beforehand it's coming? I certainly wouldn't want to burden my family with such pain and cost..
2. And this one is a really tough one for me. So, ... if you believe in God you know that suicide is apparently unacceptable (throwing away gift of God and plan or something like that). Murder isn't very much the thing to do either... except when at war, if I'm correct.
So, what does a case like this fall into? Is it suicide, murder, or is it an acceptable death, for she wouldn't live without the medical assistance anyway?
...
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
asthma??
today wasn't a good day...or at least so far.
first of all, I didn't get much sleep for the 4th night in a row. Nayla caught a cold that once again has become so bad that she's begun weezing, and that all comes in addition to the constant lamenting about her errupting teeth. So, first thing this morning I took her to the pediatrician who once again told me that she won't call this asthma, yet, but then prescribed an asthma medicine and sent me home with an inhaler (or actually, a nebulizer). After I sat with little crying Nayla for twenty minutes in front of the pediatrician office's nebulizer, trying to get her to inhale as much of the medicated steam as possible, I was pretty worked up. The fact that every parent walking by inquired about her condition with empathy in their eyes, didn't exactly help. Unfortunately, I had left my cell-phone at home and I couldn't discuss my anxiety about the word "Asthma" with anyone. I surpressed any kind of emotional outbreaks and carried on as if nothing phased me.
When I got home, I listened to my accumulated voicemails and decided to return my boss' message first. Bad idea. I completely flipped. I cursed around like a hoochie-mama from the street, got loud, and finally ended it with breaking out in tears. I was so embarrassed. Never, ..I mean, NEVER has something like this happened to me.
I am usually way too professional and detached when it comes to business. In other words, business is business. However, this wasn't about the incompetent idiots from the Moving Office who I was bitching to my boss about, this was about Nayla and the fact that I hadn't talked to anyone about this, yet.
I apologized several times, told him not to pay me any mind, and to rest assured that I am not crying about this stupid job story.
I'm an idiot but really ... I don't care about anything at the moment, anyway. I care about Nayla and the fact that I'm going to have to give her steroids and some other crap when she is not even a year old.
The doctor says there are no side-effects to these meds....but I never trust blindly. Have to investigate myself (...Pulmicort Resp. and XOpenex).
first of all, I didn't get much sleep for the 4th night in a row. Nayla caught a cold that once again has become so bad that she's begun weezing, and that all comes in addition to the constant lamenting about her errupting teeth. So, first thing this morning I took her to the pediatrician who once again told me that she won't call this asthma, yet, but then prescribed an asthma medicine and sent me home with an inhaler (or actually, a nebulizer). After I sat with little crying Nayla for twenty minutes in front of the pediatrician office's nebulizer, trying to get her to inhale as much of the medicated steam as possible, I was pretty worked up. The fact that every parent walking by inquired about her condition with empathy in their eyes, didn't exactly help. Unfortunately, I had left my cell-phone at home and I couldn't discuss my anxiety about the word "Asthma" with anyone. I surpressed any kind of emotional outbreaks and carried on as if nothing phased me.
When I got home, I listened to my accumulated voicemails and decided to return my boss' message first. Bad idea. I completely flipped. I cursed around like a hoochie-mama from the street, got loud, and finally ended it with breaking out in tears. I was so embarrassed. Never, ..I mean, NEVER has something like this happened to me.
I am usually way too professional and detached when it comes to business. In other words, business is business. However, this wasn't about the incompetent idiots from the Moving Office who I was bitching to my boss about, this was about Nayla and the fact that I hadn't talked to anyone about this, yet.
I apologized several times, told him not to pay me any mind, and to rest assured that I am not crying about this stupid job story.
I'm an idiot but really ... I don't care about anything at the moment, anyway. I care about Nayla and the fact that I'm going to have to give her steroids and some other crap when she is not even a year old.
The doctor says there are no side-effects to these meds....but I never trust blindly. Have to investigate myself (...Pulmicort Resp. and XOpenex).
Monday, March 21, 2005
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
screaming lobsters?
----------------
hey johnny,
[...]
haven't seen arrested development in a long time.... sigh. but it sure is funny ;) . don't get to the TV very often. When the thing is on it's usually playing Cinderella for the 200th time. (<- I realize this sentence doesn't make sense in the mathematical world but I'm gonna ignore this fact for now).
won't be doing wine-tasting class with you guys... I don't really drink, in case you've forgotten [islamic up-bringing]. I've just very recently started to try alcohol [for the first time in my life] and all I can take is heavily diluted 'Malibu Pineapple' or a strong Tiramisu. ;) ... wine tastes wayy too strong to me.
Though, I do know what wine goes with lobster now. Bought lobster the other day (it was Rosa's birthday). I don't eat Lobster, either, so it was the first time I had to pick a live animal out of a crammed tank instead of packed meat from the next isle.
It was embarrassing and traumatic. On the one hand I wanted to bring Rosa her favorite dinner (lobster) for her birthday, on the other hand I was fighting with my principles. The whole lobster as a meal story is just too cruel for me. First they sit all crammed in this tank together with another hundred tied up fellow lobsters. Then they get sold and boiled alive.
I cried for like 10 minutes before I could actually take the kicking plastic-bag to the cashier. I cried in the car, too. And REALLY, I don't cry a lot at all. It usually takes a lot to make me cry. I'm not that girly but this really got to me. I felt so bad for them and I felt horrible for actively contributing to their terrible fate of being thrown into boiling water (aliiiive!)
someone told me (the next day) that they don't really scream when they're put in the water (and that they don't really feel pain) but that these high-pitch "screams" are acutally sounds from the shell coming in contact with the hot water. ... I'll have to see this study in writing before I believe it, but it sure made me feel a little bit better.
ok. I have to run.
ttyl,
s.
hey johnny,
[...]
haven't seen arrested development in a long time.... sigh. but it sure is funny ;) . don't get to the TV very often. When the thing is on it's usually playing Cinderella for the 200th time. (<- I realize this sentence doesn't make sense in the mathematical world but I'm gonna ignore this fact for now).
won't be doing wine-tasting class with you guys... I don't really drink, in case you've forgotten [islamic up-bringing]. I've just very recently started to try alcohol [for the first time in my life] and all I can take is heavily diluted 'Malibu Pineapple' or a strong Tiramisu. ;) ... wine tastes wayy too strong to me.
Though, I do know what wine goes with lobster now. Bought lobster the other day (it was Rosa's birthday). I don't eat Lobster, either, so it was the first time I had to pick a live animal out of a crammed tank instead of packed meat from the next isle.
It was embarrassing and traumatic. On the one hand I wanted to bring Rosa her favorite dinner (lobster) for her birthday, on the other hand I was fighting with my principles. The whole lobster as a meal story is just too cruel for me. First they sit all crammed in this tank together with another hundred tied up fellow lobsters. Then they get sold and boiled alive.
I cried for like 10 minutes before I could actually take the kicking plastic-bag to the cashier. I cried in the car, too. And REALLY, I don't cry a lot at all. It usually takes a lot to make me cry. I'm not that girly but this really got to me. I felt so bad for them and I felt horrible for actively contributing to their terrible fate of being thrown into boiling water (aliiiive!)
someone told me (the next day) that they don't really scream when they're put in the water (and that they don't really feel pain) but that these high-pitch "screams" are acutally sounds from the shell coming in contact with the hot water. ... I'll have to see this study in writing before I believe it, but it sure made me feel a little bit better.
ok. I have to run.
ttyl,
s.
finally enabling comments
ok. I'm finally going to open up the comments section.
better don't trash me or I'll close them back up ;) ... or you'll intimidate me and I'll stop bitching altogether. I'm just that way. Too sensitive to what people say.
Too considerate.
That's why I didn't give this blog url to any of my friends (here in NY). I can write more freely this way.
Although, I've just opened my big mouth today and then had to share the url with my very dear friend Vern... who is probably going to comment me to death. ;) Don't trash me Vern! I'm no Fitzgerald, I know... I'm just rambling around.
better don't trash me or I'll close them back up ;) ... or you'll intimidate me and I'll stop bitching altogether. I'm just that way. Too sensitive to what people say.
Too considerate.
That's why I didn't give this blog url to any of my friends (here in NY). I can write more freely this way.
Although, I've just opened my big mouth today and then had to share the url with my very dear friend Vern... who is probably going to comment me to death. ;) Don't trash me Vern! I'm no Fitzgerald, I know... I'm just rambling around.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
this school system could really suck
>---------- Original Message ----------------------------------
>From: JC
>Date: Mon, 14 Mar 2005 14:43:01 -0800 (PST)
[...]
>
>The boys are good. The older is getting really bad
>influencing at school. We need to get him away from
>that. The youngest just turned 4 the other day and I
>can't hide the grays any more. (sigh) Time flies. Oh
>well!!
>
>How are things with the hubbie? We need to catch up.
>
>Ttyl
>JC ;o)
>
---------------------------------------
hey JC,
oh my,...bad school influence is what I am really afraid of. NYC has some of the best schools, though... be picky:
http://www.insideschools.org/
http://www.nycenet.edu/daa/
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9505E0D91031F931A25751C1A9629C8B63
Good luck! ... I am still mad at this system for failing Dario. He was such a geek when he started high-school but entered the worst school in NYC at the time (Alfred E. Smith). His parents didn't know better. They didn't speak a word of English. At first, he would religiously do his homework, come in at 6am for extra credit stuff, etc.
But then he saw how all the "hoodlums" around him would get 80s and 90s for doing nothing, so he tried the same and got away with it.
It made no difference if he studied or tried hard.
He made some really bad friends in HS, too. Just to survive. One of his buddies was one of the Gottis ;) .. I swear.
He saw kids get shot, stabbed, and teachers beat up. ... I guess, this wasn't the place where teachers would take an initiative.
Anyway,... where you send your kids to school makes all the difference. I think the mentality of the kids and the involvement of the parents is most important. You want kids to be kids, right... Not some mini-versions of the thug down the block. It's so sad and this system is pissing me off. Sorry to rant.
Do teachers care at all? Ok, this isn't a fair statement to the ones that do truly care and are involved but the scary thing is that anybody seems to be able to become a teacher, it seems.
There is this one guy I know,...he used to sell weed as his main income...just before he became a HS teacher.
sigh.
ok.
I'm off.
gotta do some more work.
ttyl,
s.
>From: JC
>Date: Mon, 14 Mar 2005 14:43:01 -0800 (PST)
[...]
>
>The boys are good. The older is getting really bad
>influencing at school. We need to get him away from
>that. The youngest just turned 4 the other day and I
>can't hide the grays any more. (sigh) Time flies. Oh
>well!!
>
>How are things with the hubbie? We need to catch up.
>
>Ttyl
>JC ;o)
>
---------------------------------------
hey JC,
oh my,...bad school influence is what I am really afraid of. NYC has some of the best schools, though... be picky:
http://www.insideschools.org/
http://www.nycenet.edu/daa/
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9505E0D91031F931A25751C1A9629C8B63
Good luck! ... I am still mad at this system for failing Dario. He was such a geek when he started high-school but entered the worst school in NYC at the time (Alfred E. Smith). His parents didn't know better. They didn't speak a word of English. At first, he would religiously do his homework, come in at 6am for extra credit stuff, etc.
But then he saw how all the "hoodlums" around him would get 80s and 90s for doing nothing, so he tried the same and got away with it.
It made no difference if he studied or tried hard.
He made some really bad friends in HS, too. Just to survive. One of his buddies was one of the Gottis ;) .. I swear.
He saw kids get shot, stabbed, and teachers beat up. ... I guess, this wasn't the place where teachers would take an initiative.
Anyway,... where you send your kids to school makes all the difference. I think the mentality of the kids and the involvement of the parents is most important. You want kids to be kids, right... Not some mini-versions of the thug down the block. It's so sad and this system is pissing me off. Sorry to rant.
Do teachers care at all? Ok, this isn't a fair statement to the ones that do truly care and are involved but the scary thing is that anybody seems to be able to become a teacher, it seems.
There is this one guy I know,...he used to sell weed as his main income...just before he became a HS teacher.
sigh.
ok.
I'm off.
gotta do some more work.
ttyl,
s.
don't ever honk at a cop
this morning I woke up to a phone-call from my bank telling me we are majorly overdrawn. so much and so often that the overdraft fees went from $30 to $180, thank you very much.
i am usually religious with checking my balance and making sure I don't get screwed by any stupid fees, unfortunately, I forgot about a double-maintenance check I wrote to our building management a few weeks ago (when there was enough money on the account). The management company decided to finally post that check yesterday, completely overdrawing my account. Unluckily, this was just moments before everyone else decided to post their charges (from purchases I made last week), so I got charged an overdraft fee for each one of them (6 times).
And as if this wasn't enough, on my way home, I received another ticket for not wearing my seatbelt. I think, it was the same cop as last time.
"This is New York City", I mumbled as I handed over my license and registration, "don't you have better things to do than stop me for my seatbelt.." - "I'm going to pretend you didn't say this," said the officer in an equally angry and dismissive tone and I kept my mouth shut, remembering my last incident of bitching at the law. T'was the night before...no I'm kidding... it was sometime last year, I believe; I came to a stop behind a copcar triple-parking in a one-way street to talk to another couple of officers in a double-parked car. After about 6 or seven cars had lined up behind me, there was no more space and cars were now blocking traffic in the big intersection a few hundred feet behind me. So, I thought, this would call for a sign for attention and an encouragement to stop chatting. I honked the horn at the cops. Apparently not so good an idea. One of the officers stepped out the car and walked towards me, and may I note, with his hand on his gun. ;)
Anyway, I lowered the window to hear him ask me in amazement:
"Did you just honk at us?"
"ehm...yes," I replied a bit intimidated, "was this inappropriate?"
"I'd say so," the policeman countered, "license and registration, please."
"I only honked because I was worried about the safety of the drivers further behind."
... I really don't remember much what else he or I said but I have to really watch out for my authority issues. At least when it involves people with guns and the power to put me in jail.
i am usually religious with checking my balance and making sure I don't get screwed by any stupid fees, unfortunately, I forgot about a double-maintenance check I wrote to our building management a few weeks ago (when there was enough money on the account). The management company decided to finally post that check yesterday, completely overdrawing my account. Unluckily, this was just moments before everyone else decided to post their charges (from purchases I made last week), so I got charged an overdraft fee for each one of them (6 times).
And as if this wasn't enough, on my way home, I received another ticket for not wearing my seatbelt. I think, it was the same cop as last time.
"This is New York City", I mumbled as I handed over my license and registration, "don't you have better things to do than stop me for my seatbelt.." - "I'm going to pretend you didn't say this," said the officer in an equally angry and dismissive tone and I kept my mouth shut, remembering my last incident of bitching at the law. T'was the night before...no I'm kidding... it was sometime last year, I believe; I came to a stop behind a copcar triple-parking in a one-way street to talk to another couple of officers in a double-parked car. After about 6 or seven cars had lined up behind me, there was no more space and cars were now blocking traffic in the big intersection a few hundred feet behind me. So, I thought, this would call for a sign for attention and an encouragement to stop chatting. I honked the horn at the cops. Apparently not so good an idea. One of the officers stepped out the car and walked towards me, and may I note, with his hand on his gun. ;)
Anyway, I lowered the window to hear him ask me in amazement:
"Did you just honk at us?"
"ehm...yes," I replied a bit intimidated, "was this inappropriate?"
"I'd say so," the policeman countered, "license and registration, please."
"I only honked because I was worried about the safety of the drivers further behind."
... I really don't remember much what else he or I said but I have to really watch out for my authority issues. At least when it involves people with guns and the power to put me in jail.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
people who make nut and ball jokes...
hilarious ;)
so, does this mean in the future, you will refrain from interrupting people's normal conversations with your "dumb" libido motivated comments?
;)
xxx
s.
---------- Original Message ----------------------------------
From: Dario
Date: Wed, 9 Mar 2005 15:33:38 -0500
>
www.illwillpress.com/vault.html
>
>check out rant V the first on the upper left
so, does this mean in the future, you will refrain from interrupting people's normal conversations with your "dumb" libido motivated comments?
;)
xxx
s.
---------- Original Message ----------------------------------
From: Dario
Date: Wed, 9 Mar 2005 15:33:38 -0500
>
www.illwillpress.com/vault.html
>
>check out rant V the first on the upper left
Monday, March 07, 2005
sunday...bloody sunday...
40 years ago - today...was what they call "Bloody Sunday" (wait..today is Monday...did I hear this newscast yesterday?)
Anyway. here a quick memory refresh:
Monday marks the 40th anniversary of the infamous "Bloody Sunday" in Alabama, when hundreds of civil rights demonstrators -- black and white -- were brutally beaten as they attempted to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Ala. The incident and the subsequent march led by the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. influenced the signing of the 1965 Voting Rights Act.
More info and the audio at:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4525046
Anyway. here a quick memory refresh:
Monday marks the 40th anniversary of the infamous "Bloody Sunday" in Alabama, when hundreds of civil rights demonstrators -- black and white -- were brutally beaten as they attempted to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Ala. The incident and the subsequent march led by the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. influenced the signing of the 1965 Voting Rights Act.
More info and the audio at:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4525046
Saturday, March 05, 2005
America of extreme expression
an old highschool friend of dario's called the other day... one of the ones that didn't get killed, landed in prison, or went the wrong turn somewhere else. Every day I am upset about the way this school-system has failed (and still does) its students. But this is another story (which I might blog later).
I just wanted to talk about a curious cultural difference I completely forgot about until this old friend of ours called. He's actually a really nice guy. He must be about 28 now. Has three kids. The youngest is 6.
Anyway,...I am getting off the subject again... I'm such a fan of life...
So, as he ends his conversation with me he says,
"ok, then... Love you guys!"
to which I answered fumbling for words for a moment: "oooh,...we miss you, too".
I was embarrassed to have not been able to return the sentiment. This actually happens to me often. My very good girl-friends tell me this sometimes, and usually I manage to say it back but only because I feel put on a spot. And it's not that I don't feel deeply for my friends and that I wouldn't literally cut my hand off for them (is this an English phrase?...). What I mean is that I would give my life for my friends. ...Now, having said that I wonder ... why is it then so hard for me to tell them that I love them. Maybe it's because I just didn't have enough female presence in my teenage years (having grown up with my father and two brothers), maybe it's just me, ... but really I think, it's a cultural difference.
Austrians just don't do that. They don't tell each other this easily that they love each other. In fact, I don't even remember hearing this from my dad that often even though I know, how important we were to him. He actually refused to get divorced unless he gets custody of the kids.
I remember when I first came to the US, as an au-pair. I lived with this family in a suburb of San Diego and the woman came home the first night telling me that she was "starving to death". I was in shock. How could she say something like that, I wondered. How self-absorbed was this woman, with her house, her pool, and her 3 cars? Did she not know how many people on this planet were/are ACTUALLY starving to death? Obviously, today I use the word starve all the time...although, I must say, ...by the time I usually find time to get a bite to eat I really am "staarving". ;)
Other expressions, which would alienate a foreigner are:
"I HATE xyz." ( -> hate is a really strong word. I don't think I ever used it in the German language...except for maybe describing Hitler or the like.)
"fuck this" (fuck... in German everyday language? forget it...haven't heard this ever. It was very shocking to me when my au-pair host-mother used the word for the first time. ..I could understand...maybe the youngsters...but a grown, college-educated woman?? ...today, this is one of my favorite curse-words to vent with. ;)
"motherfucker" (this is probably the worst one. there is just no way you could say this in German... I mean LOOK AT IT!... I only use this word in two phrases:
"stupid mf." and "sexy mf.". The latter is hardly every used, for I am veeery picky when it comes to men.
As you can see, cursing isn't very popular in the German language. The words exist but only the mild ones are really used. And the more education you have the less you will curse but ..duh...that's pretty much the same here, isn't it? ..except for that "f" word. People looove the "f"-word no matter how high up they are.
Obviously, the above are just my personal observations. Maybe they are not true?
Maybe they just applied to my time growing up in Austria. Maybe things have changed.
Heck, they even have cheap talk-shows on TV there now. They also have more than 2 state-channels now and privately owned radio-stations (well, that's been for a while now). So, ... things have certainly changed.
I just wanted to talk about a curious cultural difference I completely forgot about until this old friend of ours called. He's actually a really nice guy. He must be about 28 now. Has three kids. The youngest is 6.
Anyway,...I am getting off the subject again... I'm such a fan of life...
So, as he ends his conversation with me he says,
"ok, then... Love you guys!"
to which I answered fumbling for words for a moment: "oooh,...we miss you, too".
I was embarrassed to have not been able to return the sentiment. This actually happens to me often. My very good girl-friends tell me this sometimes, and usually I manage to say it back but only because I feel put on a spot. And it's not that I don't feel deeply for my friends and that I wouldn't literally cut my hand off for them (is this an English phrase?...). What I mean is that I would give my life for my friends. ...Now, having said that I wonder ... why is it then so hard for me to tell them that I love them. Maybe it's because I just didn't have enough female presence in my teenage years (having grown up with my father and two brothers), maybe it's just me, ... but really I think, it's a cultural difference.
Austrians just don't do that. They don't tell each other this easily that they love each other. In fact, I don't even remember hearing this from my dad that often even though I know, how important we were to him. He actually refused to get divorced unless he gets custody of the kids.
I remember when I first came to the US, as an au-pair. I lived with this family in a suburb of San Diego and the woman came home the first night telling me that she was "starving to death". I was in shock. How could she say something like that, I wondered. How self-absorbed was this woman, with her house, her pool, and her 3 cars? Did she not know how many people on this planet were/are ACTUALLY starving to death? Obviously, today I use the word starve all the time...although, I must say, ...by the time I usually find time to get a bite to eat I really am "staarving". ;)
Other expressions, which would alienate a foreigner are:
"I HATE xyz." ( -> hate is a really strong word. I don't think I ever used it in the German language...except for maybe describing Hitler or the like.)
"fuck this" (fuck... in German everyday language? forget it...haven't heard this ever. It was very shocking to me when my au-pair host-mother used the word for the first time. ..I could understand...maybe the youngsters...but a grown, college-educated woman?? ...today, this is one of my favorite curse-words to vent with. ;)
"motherfucker" (this is probably the worst one. there is just no way you could say this in German... I mean LOOK AT IT!... I only use this word in two phrases:
"stupid mf." and "sexy mf.". The latter is hardly every used, for I am veeery picky when it comes to men.
As you can see, cursing isn't very popular in the German language. The words exist but only the mild ones are really used. And the more education you have the less you will curse but ..duh...that's pretty much the same here, isn't it? ..except for that "f" word. People looove the "f"-word no matter how high up they are.
Obviously, the above are just my personal observations. Maybe they are not true?
Maybe they just applied to my time growing up in Austria. Maybe things have changed.
Heck, they even have cheap talk-shows on TV there now. They also have more than 2 state-channels now and privately owned radio-stations (well, that's been for a while now). So, ... things have certainly changed.
Friday, March 04, 2005
who is to blame?
Dario is pissing me off. I asked him if he'd be ok if I go to the Dominican Republic with my girlfriends for a few days. Plain out, said no. First he was honest about his problem ... all he can think of is me in the DR, with a bunch of his own people, apparently the horniest folk on this planet.
So, what the f does that mean? I cannot be trusted to go there? All I want is a long weekend with my book on the beach. I don't care about anybody or anything social. I just want to be on the beach. Water, sun or actually preferrably shade, and my books. Maybe a couple of horse-back riding trips and long unimportant chats with my girlfriends.
But no, he can't have it. And after he realized that his first reason was kind of offensive to me, he made up other excuses. He ended his argument with the fact that he had been wanting to go on such trips way before I did.
So? What is your point? ... I have never been in the way of these plans. Have given him the go-ahead with every single one of them, including the trips he wanted to make to Miami Beach at Spring Break and we all know why people go there at this time of year.
If it weren't for me he wouldn't be traveling anywhere, simply because he doesn't organize shit. Oh, I'm so pissed off.
And now he's telling me that I have wasted his whole vacation time with the trip I am planning to Austria. DON'T blame me! I asked you before I booked, if you wanted to go and you said yes. Now he is telling me, he never wanted to go and he's said that before. Point is, I asked him before I booked anything and he said yes. He just cannot blame me for messing up his traveling plans now. But he does. And it makes me feel like shit because I don't EVER want to be accused of making someone do something they do not want to do.
It's like one of my pillars of relationship ettiquette. Right next to honesty and loyality and all that shit.
ok. I am cursing to much.
I'll stop bitching now.
It seems that we like to blame our partners for our unaccomplished shit sometimes. I, myself, would like to blame Dario for a thing or two. Things I haven't done or accomplished due to his passive-aggressive behavior. I don't need much to be steered off the things I would like to do. I am such a f-ing push-over.
But here I go, I am blaming him...when REALLY I shouldn't, for it is my own fault. WE are responsible for our own happiness.
Although, by not being ok with me going to DR now, he IS to blame for my unfulfilled happiness.) ;) shit. can't apply my general Zen formula today.
So, what the f does that mean? I cannot be trusted to go there? All I want is a long weekend with my book on the beach. I don't care about anybody or anything social. I just want to be on the beach. Water, sun or actually preferrably shade, and my books. Maybe a couple of horse-back riding trips and long unimportant chats with my girlfriends.
But no, he can't have it. And after he realized that his first reason was kind of offensive to me, he made up other excuses. He ended his argument with the fact that he had been wanting to go on such trips way before I did.
So? What is your point? ... I have never been in the way of these plans. Have given him the go-ahead with every single one of them, including the trips he wanted to make to Miami Beach at Spring Break and we all know why people go there at this time of year.
If it weren't for me he wouldn't be traveling anywhere, simply because he doesn't organize shit. Oh, I'm so pissed off.
And now he's telling me that I have wasted his whole vacation time with the trip I am planning to Austria. DON'T blame me! I asked you before I booked, if you wanted to go and you said yes. Now he is telling me, he never wanted to go and he's said that before. Point is, I asked him before I booked anything and he said yes. He just cannot blame me for messing up his traveling plans now. But he does. And it makes me feel like shit because I don't EVER want to be accused of making someone do something they do not want to do.
It's like one of my pillars of relationship ettiquette. Right next to honesty and loyality and all that shit.
ok. I am cursing to much.
I'll stop bitching now.
It seems that we like to blame our partners for our unaccomplished shit sometimes. I, myself, would like to blame Dario for a thing or two. Things I haven't done or accomplished due to his passive-aggressive behavior. I don't need much to be steered off the things I would like to do. I am such a f-ing push-over.
But here I go, I am blaming him...when REALLY I shouldn't, for it is my own fault. WE are responsible for our own happiness.
Although, by not being ok with me going to DR now, he IS to blame for my unfulfilled happiness.) ;) shit. can't apply my general Zen formula today.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
can men and women be friends?
well, given the fact that a lot of my friends are guys and when I was younger most of them were (what can I say, I always was kind of a tomboy) I should answer this question with a YES. And I am .. but I am saying this with the awareness of the fact that even though women can have male "friends", most of those "friends" would probably like to have sex with her and/or would do so if circumstances would allow so.
This post is for a particular friend of mine. He is just too freaked out by the fact that he might like me and thus cannot be friends with me (out of loyality to Dario, I suppose). Why not? Most of my very good male friends used to have a crush on me. It's OK! Nobody cares.
Now, if I were a slut..then this would be a problem. Fortunately, I am not. ... In fact, even if I were single, I wouldn't be with ANY of my male friends. This is why those relationships work for me. I have no (sexual) interest in them whatsoever. I like them as people...no gender attached.
One of my best friends, Vern, actually told Dario himself that he used to have a crush on me. He could have kept that to himself but I agree with him ... it's no big deal.... as long as nobody acts on it... geez,..I mean, I know this guy so long, ...he used to have a crush on a new girl every other week. ;) Lucky man. Or ...just 'man'? ... I can't even remember the last time I had a crush on anyone.
Actually that's not true... but really, it takes years for me to meet another person I find attractive ... if this is the case I usually don't mingle with them at all.... I'm too aware of danger. Don't want to get in a mess.
Dario on the other hand seems to have no problem hanging out with girls he likes.
AAAAAAAAAASSSSSHHOOOOOOOLEEEEEEEEE. ( <- obviously, I appear to have some latent and unresolved issues here).
;)
well, so ... to my dear friend, who I miss a lot (AS A FRIEND!) ... get over it already and please, let's talk again...and hang out like we used to.
Friendship can be a beautiful thing. Even with a female. Try it. ;)
This post is for a particular friend of mine. He is just too freaked out by the fact that he might like me and thus cannot be friends with me (out of loyality to Dario, I suppose). Why not? Most of my very good male friends used to have a crush on me. It's OK! Nobody cares.
Now, if I were a slut..then this would be a problem. Fortunately, I am not. ... In fact, even if I were single, I wouldn't be with ANY of my male friends. This is why those relationships work for me. I have no (sexual) interest in them whatsoever. I like them as people...no gender attached.
One of my best friends, Vern, actually told Dario himself that he used to have a crush on me. He could have kept that to himself but I agree with him ... it's no big deal.... as long as nobody acts on it... geez,..I mean, I know this guy so long, ...he used to have a crush on a new girl every other week. ;) Lucky man. Or ...just 'man'? ... I can't even remember the last time I had a crush on anyone.
Actually that's not true... but really, it takes years for me to meet another person I find attractive ... if this is the case I usually don't mingle with them at all.... I'm too aware of danger. Don't want to get in a mess.
Dario on the other hand seems to have no problem hanging out with girls he likes.
AAAAAAAAAASSSSSHHOOOOOOOLEEEEEEEEE. ( <- obviously, I appear to have some latent and unresolved issues here).
;)
well, so ... to my dear friend, who I miss a lot (AS A FRIEND!) ... get over it already and please, let's talk again...and hang out like we used to.
Friendship can be a beautiful thing. Even with a female. Try it. ;)
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