Mugshot

JEM

German and Not German

Now presenting 11 things that are and aren't German:

1. German chocolate cake. Not German.

2. Gummy bears. German.

3. Adolf Hitler. Not German.


4. The Scorpions. German.

5. Albert Einstein. German.

6. German pancakes. Trick question. Based on a German dish but reinterpreted by Americans, such that it no longer resembles the German dish at all.


7. Mannheim Steamroller. Not German.

8. Almost every fairy tale you've ever heard. German.

9. Arnold Schwarzenegger. Not German.


10. La Bouche. Another trick question. One-quarter German, three-quarters American, but established in Germany.

11. T-Mobile. German.

BONUS: David Hasselhoff. Not German. (Although I'm sure they'd grant him citizenship if he asked.)

A magazine in the waiting room of my OBGYN.

JEM

If You Like Me, Maybe You'll Like ...

If you don't know me, or even if you do, but enjoy reading about the adventures and mishaps of a hot, 25-year-old, Mormon female from the Intermountain West living in an alien land and culture, then please allow me to make two recommendations. The following blogs are operated by two of my girlfriends, who both happen to be hot, 25, Mormon, from the Intermountain West and living in pretty unusual circumstances:

1. The View from the North. This blog comes from the brain of Angie Alston, whom I met in high school. She was the reigning Idaho Junior Miss when we were seniors and can hold a pencil in her cavernous, adorable dimples when she smiles. Strangely, Jake also knows her through entirely different avenues and actually pursued her romantically for a brief time. (Ang, I've never taken the time to thank you for letting him down kindly, but I truly appreciate it.) But now, she's a middle school Social Studies teacher living in Shishmaref, Alaska, a tiny village located 20 miles south of the Arctic Circle that's accessible only by airplane and subject to the occasional polar bear attack. The town doesn't have any flush toilets, and Angie and her endearing hubby Steve (an elementary school teacher) attend church every Sunday via conference call. It's a fascinating, thoroughly entertaining read.

2. The Finnish Line. This blog is operated by our friends Ben and Missy Ames, but from what I gather, primarily by Missy. Missy and I met our freshman year of college at Utah State University and have been tight ever since, but especially since, during college, we both married men who turned out to be one another's tech-geek soul mates. In August, Missy and Ben moved to Jyväskylä, Finland, where Ben is working on a two-year master's program in physics at a campus so breathtaking it looks like it was constructed by God, and Missy is working as an English teacher. Neither of them really speak Finnish, despite Ben's being half-Finish, but they're learning and exploring the landscape almost exclusively by bike. All their entries so far have been interesting and entertaining, but I've especially enjoyed their beautifully-assembled video tours, and I'm looking forward to many more in the next two years.

But, in the words of the immortal LeVar Burton, don't take my word for it!




JEM

T-Minus Six Weeks

American Dresdner: We haven't had a chat in a while.
Jasmine E. Michaelson: I know! How have you been?
AD: I'll ask the questions around here.
JEM: Oh.
AD: How have you been?
JEM: Things have been pretty good. You might be interested to know that as of today I have exactly six weeks left in my pregnancy!

The protuberance as of this writing.

AD: Thank you for volunteering that personal information and yet another semi-nude photo of your torso.
JEM: Anytime! We're just so excited!!! : )
AD: You did NOT just incorporate an emoticon into this interview.
JEM: Oh, I did. What're you gonna do about it? >: } Anyway, the pregnancy is going super except for a few things.
AD: Such as?
JEM: Oh, you know. The usual. Can't tie my shoes or pick things up off the floor without almost passing out. It takes me about 45 minutes to walk up our six flights of stairs. Pretty much need a winch to stand up. Heartburn like the fires of hell. Tiny fists of fury pummeling my lungs and kidneys. Waking up with a dagger buried in my lower back. Generally unable to find a comfortable position for longer than five minutes. And then, of course, there's been the rare but spontaneous lactation.
AD: The miracle of human life.
JEM: Also, after nursing Jake (no connection to the aforementioned spontaneous lactation) back to coherency from his man cold last weekend, I caught it. 
AD: Man cold?
JEM: Yeah. It's like a regular cold, but carried by a man.

My dad always said that when he got a cold it was worse for him than it was for the rest of us because he was bigger.
AD: I don't follow.
JEM: More of him to get sick.
AD: Hmmm. Fascinating logic.
JEM: I think it also applies to pregnant women, because in addition to generally having more mass, you are literally being sick for two people.
AD: Are you sure this theory is scientifically valid?
JEM: Oh, it's no theory. You want to sit in this body for a spell?
AD: Tempting, but ...
JEM: Lightweight. Which reminds me. Jake gave me a new pet name this weekend. We were leaving the apartment and he said, "OK, Blimpy, you ready to go?"
AD: Blimpy?
JEM: He means it in the best way.
AD: Sure he does. So, as you close in on the blessed event, do you have any worries?
JEM: No. None at all.
AD: None?
JEM: Well, maybe there a couple of worries.
AD: Would you care to share a few?
JEM: Oh, there's not a lot to share. Just little things like, will my bellybutton ever look normal again? What pain have I experienced thus far in my life that could possibly compare to the pain I will soon experience during labor? Or, after watching me push a human being out of my body, will Jake ever again be able to see me as a mysterious and alluring creature? Or, what if my water breaks and I'm nowhere near a telephone or a taxi? Or, what if I'm home alone at go-time and have to get myself down all these stairs? Or, what if there's a lot of traffic and I have to deliver the baby in the backseat of a taxi with a cigarette-smoking-beer-swilling-soccer-hooligan cabbie named Olf as my only support? 
AD: So, the usual concerns?
JEM: Of course, those are just dealing with the birth itself. There are other worries, like, what if the hospital staff are so out of practice with circumcisions, since the only Europeans who have their boys circumcized are the occasional Jews, that they flub it up and we have to raise Junior as a girl?
AD: That doesn't seem terribly likely.
JEM: I'm just trying to prepare myself for every possibility.
AD: Do you have a name picked out yet?
JEM: We're leaning, but we're not making anything public or official yet.
AD: Any clues?
JEM: Only that some reactions we've had to it so far have included:
"It sounds kind of evil." —Melissa Rojas, Jake's little sister
"It sounds like he'd be a cool kid. Like Ponyboy Curtis." —Ford Erickson, my little brother
"(Stunned silence)" —Anne Michaelson, Jake's mother
AD: Sounds like a keeper.
JEM: Can I say something else?
AD: I told you I'm the one asking the questions.
JEM: Fine. I'm going to say something else.
AD: I'm all ears.
JEM: In all seriousness, though, Jake and I really are so excited and so at peace with all of this. I've always been terrified at the prospect of crossing this bridge into parenthood, but it's been incredible to witness the peace that's come into our lives as this has panned out.
AD: That's beautiful. :´)
JEM: Oh, now don't you start.

AD: <: 0 Start what?

Happy German Unity Day!

On Nov. 9, 1989, buckling under the pressure of a collapsing regime, the communist government of the German Democratic Republic lifted all travel restrictions previously placed on East Germans.

From 1945, when the Soviets took control of Germany's five eastern states and the eastern half of the city-state of Berlin in the fallout of World War II, to 1961, the border between East and West Germany was relatively soft, resulting in many East Germans emigrating to the West in pursuit of better wages and fleeing political oppression. But on Aug. 13, 1961, East German troops sealed the border and construction began on the Berlin Wall. For the next 28 years, it was virtually impossible for ordinary East German citizens to travel west of the Iron Curtain. At least 136 people were killed attempting it.

So, when the announcement was made on Nov. 9, 1989, that East Germans could now cross the border at their whim and leisure, it was understandably epic. In Berlin Westerners and Easterners flooded to the wall that divided the city and tore it apart in their efforts to embrace each other.

Nearly one year later, on Oct. 3, 1990, the Federal Republic of Germany (a.k.a. West Germany) formally welcomed back their Eastern brothers and sisters, reuniting a nation that had been severed for 45 years.

Germans refer to those events as "die Wende", or "the turning point", and since that day have dubbed every Oct. 3 "der Tag der deutschen Einheit", or "the Day of German Unity".

And that, dear readers, is why we over here in Germany don't have to go to work today. So I don't want to hear any whining. You want a day off? Reunite a nation and peacefully play a major role in the fall of a massive, corrupt regime and then we'll talk.



JEM

Paul Newman, 1925-2008

Paul Newman, you were a man among men. A scoundrel with an angel's looks and a heart of gold.
And one of the coolest sons-of-a-gun ever to walk the Earth.
You'll be missed.

Shindig

Last weekend a bunch of sweet girls from church threw a surprise baby shower for me and another prego gal in the ward (the lovely lady sitting on the floor in the bottom right of the above photo — who, incidentally, had her baby earlier this week, leaving me at the top of the pile as the ward's pregnantest person).

It was really fun.
And a happy coincidence that my sister-in-law Amy was in town from Las Vegas so she was able to attend. And take lots of unflattering pictures of me. (I mentioned this was a surprise, right? I totally would've done my hair had I known what I was walking into. Really.)

Baby food taste test game. I'll never make Junior eat the zucchini flavor.More games.
Then and now: Me and my baby self.Chugging Kool-Aid from a baby bottle. Officially more work than it's worth.

I'd be lying if I said that I haven't privately experienced a couple of panicky moments in regard to my situation: that of embarking into the completely uncharted waters of pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood thousands of miles from my family, culture and native language. But something I've learned here is that, of the many blessings that being a member of the LDS Church has brought me, one is a knowledge that almost anywhere I go in this world, I will have a family in the nearest LDS congregation. The Dresden Ward has been that for us. They have befriended us, given us opportunities to serve and contribute, and just looked out for us when there wasn't really anyone else to do so. This baby shower was only the most recent in a string of acts of kindness these good people have undertaken to help two anxious foreigners feel a little more at home. And to help one young, expectant mother feel a little more at ease with her current state of affairs.

If any members of the ward happen to be reading this, thank you. You don't know what all this means to us.

JEM