Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch ...

Jasmine E. Michaelson: Soooo ... uhmmm ... hi.
American Dresdner: Well, well, well. If it isn't JEM.
JEM: Yeah, about that ...
AD: Do you have any idea how much you worried me? I had all the neighbors out looking for you! I called the police ...
JEM: You called the police? What did you tell them?
AD: Just that I hadn't heard from you in a long time and it wasn't like you and could they look into it.
JEM: Wow. I had no idea I'd upset you so much.
AD: I just knew you were dead in a ditch somewhere. Anyway, they wanted to know what our relationship was, and when I told them they told me not to abuse emergency services and hung up on me.
JEM: Well, listen, I'm really sorry.
AD: [silent, refuses to make eye contact]
JEM: C'mon! What do you want me to say?
AD: An explanation would be nice.
JEM: I guess I don't really have one. It's actually been a pretty boring couple of weeks. In fact, that's the main reason I haven't stopped by. I haven't had anything interesting to report. For the most part, it's been gray and rainy, and the Chairman of the Board has been a real taskmaster lately.
AD: Who?
JEM: AD: Oh, right, him. He's really starting to hammer a wedge between us.
JEM: Hey now, he's just a baby. He needs lots of care and love.
AD: AND I DON'T?!
JEM: Anyway, we haven't really gotten out lately because he's been sort of moody. But we've had lots of fun here at home! Here, let me show you. [removes photos from wallet]
AD: Oh, jeez. Here we go.
JEM: He rolled over for the first time:


And I finally caught him on video laughing (apparently the way I was fluffing the pillows was pretty funny):


And, when he's not freaking out in public, he's been darn cute.

Thanks for the outfit, Grandma M.

But I can see your eyes are glazing over.
AD: No, no! Please keep going!
JEM: Are you being sarcastic? Because I will keep going, if you want.
AD: I was being sarcastic.
JEM: Oh.
AD: There must've been something interesting that happened. Something with a little drama and intrigue. Something that will hold our two remaining readers.
JEM: Well, today I polished off my last jar of Jif Crunchy Peanut Butter, but fortunately I recently discovered a German peanut butter that's relatively edible. That was pretty exciting.
AD: You know what? Why don't you just disappear again for a little while.
JEM: You don't mean that.
AD: Oh, I do. I really do.

In the Belfry

So there I was last night, sitting in our IKEA cantilevered rocking chair, making a list of potential baby names, when something with a pretty substantial wingspan swoops into our living room from the direction of our open bedroom window.

I, of course, freeze and scream bloody murder, scaring the bejeebies out of Jake, who was in the other room, the baby, who started doing jumping jacks in my belly, and I'm pretty sure the sensitive-eared-creature-intruder, who crash landed on the floor under our living room window and lied there motionless but blinking.

Yeah. That's a bat. And a pretty fine specimen, if I do say so myself.

I think nature may have been trying to send me a sign.



Bruce is a nice name.



JEM

Then, Yes, We're Thinking of the Same City

Today in English class, the students asked me where I was from, exactly, in the United States. I told them Idaho, which is in the Rocky Mountain region of the country, in the west. Usually no one has heard of Idaho, so I explained that it is a big state with not many people and lots of potatoes and cows.

"Do you know of a city called Provo?" one woman asked.

Yes, I told her, stunned that she had, apparently. I studied at a university in Utah, I said, and I had been to Provo many times. "Do you know people in Provo?" I asked her.

Turns out Provo is sister cities with her city, Meissen, which lies 10 miles or so outside Dresden, and the two cities maintain a correspondence.

"Zhey come to our Stadtfest (city festival) every year," she said. "And zhey trink vahter."

Public Service Announcement

Did you know that May, June and July are the three months of the year one is most likely to stumble upon a baby bird that's fallen out of its nest?

If you happen to find a baby bird on the ground, the first thing you should do is look around for its nest and, if you can find it, replace the bird. If you can't find the nest, assess the bird. Is it injured? Is it a nestling or a fledgling? The Interwebs tell us that a fledgling is fully feathered, can flap its wings and hop. If the bird you've found is a very young nestling or if the bird is injured, it's a good idea to consult a veterinarian for suggestions. It is possible to hand-raise a baby bird but the mortality rate is very high and they require a great deal of special attention.

However, if the bird is a healthy fledgling (see above photo), it's likely that it hasn't actually fallen from the nest, but rather has left the nest. Simply place the bird in a nearby bush or tree where it is not in imminent danger. Odds are likely the bird's parent is nearby and will pick up where you leave off.

It is not, in fact, advised that you panic while standing outside in your pajamas and hustle the little guy back to your apartment in a hand towel. It is further unnecessary to build the bird a nest out of a milk carton and some old socks and attempt to feed it mashed-up hard boiled eggs with a tweezer and water from an eye dropper for several hours.

Now you know.





JEM

Germany Isn't Scary (Anymore): Opening the Window

These are my parents.


In one month they will make the arduous journey from Idaho to Germany to see us. Neither of them have ever left the continental United States, and they're pretty nervous. So, in an effort to quell their anxiety, AD is introducing a sporadic month-long series titled: "Germany Isn't Scary (Anymore)". In this series we will do tutorials on and learn about some of the ins and outs of German life that my parents will likely encounter during their stay.

For our first lesson, we will learn about German windows, which Americans, including myself, always find weird. Here is our living room window, which I will use as an example.


You'll notice it's large, that it's one piece and that it has no screen. It obviously doesn't slide open like American windows. But the apartment's getting stuffy, and you need some fresh air. And fast! Before haphazardly attacking hinges and handles, which will likely result in the window falling off its hinges all together (believe me, I've done it), take a deep breath and remember the following tutorial.

First of all, know that are two ways to open a German window. You can tip it open, like this:


Or you can open it all the way, like this:


Modern German windows are relatively easy to work — you twist the handle so that it's horizontal to open the window all the way and vertically upside-down to tip the window.

But our windows are vintage German Democratic Republic (read: junk) and so it's a little more complicated.

Let's look at the moving parts. First we have the handle.


Next, you'll notice the levers on the two hinges, one along the bottom of the window ...


and the other along the right edge of the window.


The first rule is NEVER EVER EVER open both levers at once. As previously mentioned, the window will fall off.

To tip the window, flip up the the lever on the RIGHT EDGE of the window only. (It's a good idea to check the bottom lever and make sure it is securely closed.)


Then grip and pull up on the handle.


The top of the window will pop out and settle into a perfect tip (see above).

If you want to open the window all the way, simply reverse the levers in the process. Flip open the BOTTOM lever only, making sure the right lever is secure.


Then pull up on the handle, as previously explained, and voila. You are at once one with nature and fully equipped to spit on unsuspecting passers-by.

The end.



JEM

Facelift

Our living room wall before ...


... and after ...


Thanks for your input. You convinced me.



JEM

Rites of Spring

We have a net across our balcony to keep crows and pigeons from trashing it (and they want to, I can see it in those tiny shifty eyes). Anyway, two weeks ago I noticed this surefire sign of spring taking place on our vermin net:


Yes, that would be two bumble bees sharing an intimate moment. It gets no springier. I thought this certainly meant that Dresden's gray but snowless winter would soon conclude. But as of yesterday morning the vermin net looks like this:

And I'm all, "whatevs!!! : ( y cudnt u dun this @ xmas?!?!?"

On another note, I'd just like to let you know that tonight I will be attending something that will be turned around for AD readers as possibly the best FIELDTRIP! to date. Certainly the most cultured. So, don't touch that dial! Actually, it'll take at least a day for me to compile, so go ahead and touch it. But check back. It'll be great. Promise.



Love,
JEM

Poll: The Great Photo Mural Debate

Jake and I have been entertaining the idea of putting a 1970s-inspired, gigantic wallpaper photo mural on one wall of our living room. We feel it could be the touch of class the place really needs. The current debate is which atmosphere-setting theme we want to go with. Here are the options we're considering:


1. Sunset/palm trees/beach. Jake likes this option because the palm trees and sunsets remind him of his home, Las Vegas. He also likes the idea of putting up a landscape that is very different from the one we currently live in as an escape. I worry that during the gray winters I might turn into a vegetable staring at what I can't have.


2. Moon landing. This is arguably the classiest of the options we're considering. We like that's unusual, but Jake is concerned that it will clash with our Christmas decor. Considering our "Christmas decor" is a string of white lights and a white star in our window, I'm not only not concerned, I think it would be the perfect compliment.


3. Forest. This is a nice, safe option. It would likely set off the room well and be a pleasant reference to the woodsy landscape we currently live in.


4. Map. Honestly we haven't found a lot of good photo mural maps, but if we did find one we think it would be a fun way to track or travels and plot our world domination.


5. Desert. This is also a reference to Jake's American Southwest homeland. We like the bold colors and the stark shapes, but apparently so does everyone else because this wallpaper is sold out everywhere we've looked.

Keeping these arguments in mind, I encourage all readers to place their votes in AD's latest poll: "Which photo mural theme should we use to class up our living room?"

And don't just sit there thinking, "Oh, my vote won't count anyway. I'll let everybody else worry about it," or, "I've got too many things to worry about to be concerned with issues that don't directly affect me and my loved ones," or, "All the candidates disgust me and I wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing I had given my vote to any of them."

Gentle readers, American Dresdner needs you now more than ever. Please exercise your right as an empowered user of the Information Super Highway and make your opinion known viciously and anonymously.

If you don't vote, the terrorists have won.



JEM

JEM Leaves Apartment, Does Stuff

American Dresdner: Where the crap have you been?
Jasmine E. Michaelson: Sorry, AD.
AD: You're not going hermit again, are you?
JEM: No, I've actually been busy, believe it or not.
AD: Not.
JEM: Yeah? Well, get this — I found a job!
AD: (speechless)
JEM: I know. It's very exciting. I'm an English teacher at a language school. I've been observing classes this week.
AD: English teacher, huh? You going to teach these poor saps Idaho spudhead terms like jockey box and borrow pit that'll get the snot kicked out of 'em anywhere else in the world?
JEM: I'm not planning on it. I did, however, get to explain to a student today what the phrase "I don't give a damn" means.
AD: What an inspiring opportunity.
JEM: It really was.
AD: When do you start teaching?
JEM: I've been assigned to an all-day, two-week long class full of German soldiers that starts at the end of the month.
AD: Are you training spies?
JEM: Not that I'm aware of.
AD: Just remember, traitors get executed.
JEM: I'll remember that. It would also be good if you remembered that Germany and the United States are allies now.
AD: Oh, right.
(awkward pause)
AD: Soooo ... you seen any good movies lately?
JEM: I'm glad you asked that, AD, because I have. Twice a week this awesome movie theater downtown shows American movies in English. Problems are, they only show each movie once, they pick movies that have already been out forever, and lots of the movies they pick we're not interested in. But on Wednesday night they showed "I Am Legend" and we decided to forgive Will Smith for everything related to "Big Willie Style", "Fresh Prince of Bel Air", and pretty much everything else he's done in his life and see it.


AD: And?
JEM: It was, I'll say, 85 percent good.
AD: What does that mean?
JEM: I liked it, but it would've been better if I was the director. And if the ending hadn't been so lame. And if they'd explained why in blazes there were African lions in New York.
AD: Have you seen anything else?
JEM: In fact, yes. This has been the week of going to the movies. We noticed that Dresden's friendly neighborhood 3D theater was showing U23D this week, so we had to go see it because Jake loves U2. So much so that he's given me permission to kiss Bono if I ever get the chance because it would be the closest he could ever get to kissing Bono.


AD: Hmmm.
JEM: Of course, that was before this movie came out. Now, I'm pretty sure watching Bono's head on a screen the size of a aircraft carrier in 3D is the closest he'll ever get to kissing Bono.
AD: How was the movie?
JEM: Cool. It was like being at the Vertigo concert all over again. But with better seats. And in Latin America. And occasionally flying. And without the drunk girls next to us who kept saying, "This is f***ing epic!"
AD: Sounds like a good experience.
JEM: It was. But you want to know the best part?
AD: Tell me.
JEM: 3D glasses.


AD: Is that beer you're holding?
JEM: You'd think so, but no. It's Sprite. And Jake had a Fanta. Although they had beer at the concessions stand. Not surprising considering you can buy beer at McDonald's, Burger King, the IKEA cafeteria, and select elementary schools. (I'm kidding about the elementary schools. I think. I actually haven't checked.)
AD: Anything else you'd like to share about this experience?
JEM: Yes. We were two of about 12 people in a theater that could probably seat 1,000. That was fun. Everybody was screaming during the previews while we got used to the 3D.


AD: Anything else you'd like to talk about in this interview?
JEM: Well, there are more things to talk about, but I'll save them for future posts. I will, however, tell you this interesting tidbit.
AD: I'm salivating in anticipation.
JEM: Did you hear about the first ever Korean astronaut being sent into space?
AD: Yes. The Interwebs told me about that.
JEM: Well, I brought this up with my Korean scientist English student at a recent lesson and guess what.
AD: What?
JEM: He applied for the job.
AD: No way.
JEM: Way. He had to do all kinds of physical tests and training. He said he exercised for two hours every day leading up to the tests.
AD: Wow. But he didn't get it.
JEM: Sadly, no. This guy did.


My guy totally could've done it, though. He said the main problem they had with him was that he didn't have his Ph.D. yet. And they also wanted somebody fluent in English and Russian.
AD: Tall order.
JEM: Yes. They have to make it tough or else we'd all be astronauts.
AD: Right.
JEM: And nobody'd be down here on Earth to answer the phone.
AD: Can't have that.
JEM: No, we can't.

The Flood of '08

Well, I did it.

Alert readers will remember our apartment's unusual bathroom plumbing arrangement, specifically the washing machine system, which involves laying the machine's open-ended drain hose in the bathtub every time one does a load of laundry. You may recall my expressed dread at the thought of ever forgetting to put the hose in the bathtub when I put in a load of wash. I think I knew somehow that it would eventually happen.

And it did. Yesterday.

The bathroom flooded and I probably should have been electrocuted as I stood barefoot in the inch-deep water cursing like a sailor. But by some miracle (called a circuit breaker) I was saved. Whether Jake will ever trust me to operate a major appliance again is yet to be determined.



JEM

AD Asks the Tough Questions

American Dresdner: Have you become a hermit?
Jasmine E. Michaelson: Well, hermit is such a harsh word.
AD: Let me rephrase that. How many times have you left the apartment in the last three days?
JEM: Twice.
AD: What did you do?
JEM: I met Jake for lunch one time and the other time I took out the garbage.
AD: Taking out the garbage does not count as leaving the apartment.
JEM: Why not? I had to put on shoes.
AD: Did you tie them?
JEM: No.
AD: Then it doesn't count. Why have you become a hermit?
JEM: I still disagree with the word choice, but to answer your question, it just happened. I made no conscious decision to become a "hermit" (makes air quotes with fingers). The weather's been really gray and miserable and I just haven't felt particularly motivated to go out and have adventures.
AD: Critics may say you are wasting the chance of a lifetime by being a hermit while living in Europe, something many people dream of doing, but never get the chance to do. What is your response to these critics?
JEM: I can't visit museums and cathedrals and listen to street musicians every day, I'm sorry.
AD: Why not?
JEM: I've got important stuff to do around the apartment.
AD: Like what?
JEM: Like sweeping up dust bunnies, reheating leftovers and writing my awesome novel.
AD: I suppose that's a legitimate use of time. Assuming it's not complete garbage.
JEM: It's not. Only about 45 percent garbage. The rest is self-indulgent drivel.
AD: How much time have you spent on it today?
JEM: About two hours.
AD: And what did you do the rest of the day?
JEM: Took out the garbage.
AD: And that took six hours?
JEM: This interview is over. (Tears microphone off shirt and storms from room in huff.)

Minority Rule

The kid's got a fistful of fliers or coupons or something, and he's right there. Totally unavoidable. A German could avoid it. They can look straight through people when they want to. But for a small town American the encounter is unavoidable. It's like I can't not make eye contact with him. So I do and he's all smiles and jumps into this sales pitch that I don't understand a word of.

I tell him he's got to slow down, my German's not very good, and now he's curious.

Where are you from?

America.

(Rough translation) Really? Wow! I never would have guessed! You look just like a German at first glance!

Then he asks me all kinds of questions. What am I doing here? How long will I live here? What part of the city do I live in? Do I like it here?

And then he says something like, "This made my day, I've never met an American before."

My entire life I've been a member of the majority. Majority religion, majority race. Heck, at my university I belonged to the majority gender. But of all of my majorities, the one that has always been the most unremarkable was my nationality. And here's some kid telling me how cool it is to meet an American.

And I'm thinking this is pretty cool.



JEM

The View from the Top

I just realized that I haven't formally introduced all of you to the most fabulous aspect of living on the sixth floor of a Plattenbau: the View. And thanks to some rather tumultuous skies of late, I've been able to land a couple of pictures that I think come close to doing it justice.

First, this is our rear view. This is what we can see from our living room and kitchen. You will notice the infamous soup factory in the foreground and the lovely gigantic-chimney-slash-cell-phone-tower. Usually this view is pretty unpleasant. But in the right light, it seems to take on a cool feel. I like the bird on the top edge who managed to get in on the action.


But here, my friends, is the crown jewel. This is the view from our massive bedroom windows. You will notice THE ENTIRE CITY OF DRESDEN. When we looked at this place for the first time, it smelled like asparagus (in retrospect, that probably was related somehow to the soup factory), was coated with dust, and had all the charm of storage unit. And then we looked out the window. And we took it immediately. We have not regretted the decision.


Not bad, eh?



JEM

P.S. I've got our next FIELDTRIP! on the stove. We'll be going to Dresden's world-famous Christmas market, the Striezelmarkt. And a good time WILL be had by all or I will happily refund your money.

Communist Plumbing and You

I feel that our bathroom plumbing warrants a word. You can see here that we do not have a shower. Not that I didn't try to shower when we first moved here. It didn't work very well. Mostly I just splashed all over the non-tiled walls and the place smelled like wet, musty paint for a while. So I relunctantly succumbed to the bath. Before this I hadn't bathed since childhood. Well, in the sense that I didn't sit in a person-sized ceramic bowl of hot water. I did clean myself. I just showered, was all. At first I hated my return to the bath. I hated all the contortions involved with leg-shaving and washing all those parts that aren't very accessible when sitting. But I've gotten my routine down, now, and I thoroughly enjoy my baths. Maybe you can tell from my happy boiled lobster toes in this picture. I even (with my dear husband's help) created a bathtime mix on iTunes. I'd always hated the Beatles' song "Octopus's Garden", but it turns it that's only because I'd never listened to it while scrubbing up in a tub.

But enough about my hygiene. The really interesting thing here is our stunning faucet arrangement. I'm not sure why the communists were opposed to having two faucets in the bathroom, but I have to admit, I find the set up rather ingenious engineering-wise, if not sort of useless. The faucet, as you can tell, swivels between the sink and the tub, and the shower head comes straight out of the sink faucet. Making it impossible to brush your teeth while running a bath. I suppose with my schedule, I can afford to lose a little multi-tasking.

That third fixture, between the shower and the faucet is our washer hookup. The hose runs along the base of the tub and attaches to the washer, which sits right next to your head when you're sitting in the tub. The washing machines drains, as I've mentioned before, but still haven't gotten over, through an open-ended hose that I have to remember to lay in the tub anytime I do a load. So there goes another multi-tasking option: No doing laundry while anyone's taking a bath. Unless they like to bathe in dirty laundry water.

Strange that my amazing Doc Brown bathroom is able to do all the multi-tasking it wants, but in the process it leaves me even less productive than normal.



JEM

Was machst du?

Yikes! Sorry for not posting in so long.

Today I would like to address the question I am asked most frequently. Well, maybe not most frequently, that would probably be "Are you homesick?", but it is the question that I prefer most to avoid.

In German the question is: "Was machst du hier in Dresden?"

In English it is: "What do you do here in Dresden?"

I don't have a job. I submitted a resumé to a language teaching bureau seeking native English speakers to teach business and advanced English, but never heard back. And I don't go to school. I would love to take one of the immersion German courses at the Goethe Institute here, but they're pretty pricey, and we're pretty poor. So, that answers the first two questions that automatically follow the initial question if I ask for clarification. Work? No. School? No. I also don't have any children, so the plot thickens. How does a person pass nine to 10 hours every weekday all alone in a foreign country with no pressing responsibilities?

Here is how I do it (ideally): Get up, eat breakfast, exercise, bathe and get ready. Do general housework stuff for a while. Study German for two hours. Eat lunch. Run errands (mostly grocery shopping). Then spend the rest of the afternoon working on my novel, which will make us millions so that I can take that German course and Jake can buy computer parts. My goal is 1,000 words a day, and I currently have almost 70 pages.

However, some days are better than others. Here's what happened today: Get up, eat breakfast, exercise, bathe and get ready. Throw in laundry. Study German for one hour. Fall asleep on the couch. Wake up one hour later, deliriously. Make a sandwich and eat it whilst watching "America's Next Top Model" on YouTube. Knit and watch more "America's Next Top Model" on YouTube. Get disgusted with myself. Take out garbage. Take bus to the bank to withdraw week's grocery moolah. Go to the grocery store. Buy milk. Come home. Listen to geeky sci-fi podcast "Escape Pod" (short story about one man's romance with a robot) while I sweep the house and do the dishes. Write in blog. Hate myself for not writing in my novel. End.

Do you think that's what I should tell people?