where magic happens (and not the gathering)

The Castro Theatre in San Francisco is awesome for many reasons.  It’s a historical, beautiful building, it looks like an actual performing arts theater, they have their own organ, centrally located next to all the food you could imagine, bars, and a BART station.  But most importantly, they have the best programming of any movie theater I’ve heard of.

And not just Arnold-the-Governator double features.  I’m talking this weekend’s screening of the first four Harry Potter films – back to back to back to back, nearly 11 hours of magic for the bargain price of $12.  Watching TV costs nearly that much!  When you factor in the cost of electricity bills (discounted), your sofa, and rent, that is.  I know they’ve done these same marathons for Lord of the Rings and Star Wars, but I never cease to be amazed at what an opportunity this is for the die-hard fans.

Of course, nothing can top the pinnacle of all movie-theater experiences that is the Sing-a-long films – music, movie, and a goody bag?  I’m tempted to schedule a trip back in November just to sing-a-long with The Sound of Music and Dreamgirls.

life in the lab

For the past few weeks, our kitchen has been plagued by fruit flies.  Not Bible-level plague, but they’re there.  And no matter how persistant we are in leaving no food out and cleaning all counter space daily, they greet us in the morning with their evil red eyes lurking out from the faucet or garbage.

And the worst part is that not only are they pests, all I can think of is high school biology and the knowledge that these vermin can lay 500 eggs a day and complete a full reproductive cycle in two weeks is enough to drive a person mad.  Giant German spiders are bad enough, but at least those stay outdoors.  And fruit flies are famous for their reproductive capacity.  It doesn’t exactly strike fear into my heart, but it does unleash uncontrollable rage.

Most of the time I’m content to let the vinegar trap do its thing, but sometimes I see a big fat bug on the sink and start smacking away, shrieking, “stop reproducing 8 hours after you’ve hatched, you dirty bitch¹!”

I usually don’t manage to kill it, but it makes me feel better.

¹I know it’s female because it’s larger and lacks a black abdomen.  Thanks, Mrs. McAuliffe.

hochzeit

This weekend I attended my first German hochzeit//wedding.  Based on the overview I was given beforehand, it sounded pretty similar to American weddings – church, champagne and hor d’oeuvres reception, then dinner.  I should have known better, I said to myself, as I crawled into bed at 5am.  German weddings may not be the same marathon experience as Indian weddings, but only because all the activity is on one day instead of three.

Some of the differences start with the engagement, as there are rarely engagement rings, parties, or showers.  And instead of bachelor/bachelorette strip-tastic fetes, there’s a big party in a barn with plates thrown around.  Or something like that, but sadly, we did not attend.  Gotta love the opportunity to throw around some china. 

In the church, there were no attendants, which is kind of cool because you all come in and sit, the bride and groom come down the aisle and you get right down to business.  German efficiency at its finest.  Except, not so much, because the church part lasted well over an hour!  How can that be?  In America, half the church ceremony is just getting all the moms and bridesmaids, and dawdling 5-year-olds down that aisle.  Once that part’s done, you thrown in a little Corinthians, a little ’til death do us part’ and time for champagne and dinner.  But no. 

Instead, there was a lot of singing, which was actually quite nice.  Guest-singing and choir singing (which was infinitely nicer).  Luckily, all of the words and music were printed in the program, which helped me fake it.  The main vows were also printed, and I was able to entertain myself trying to read.  Which was surprisingly easy – Zwei sind besser als einen allein//two are better than one alone - and more along those lines.  But I was a little thrown when the priest deviated and started talking about how three is even better than two.  Since that was the only part I understood, I sat there wondering if she was making a major faux-pas in announcing to the entire gathering that this was a shot gun wedding, or if it’s de rigeur to encourage speedy reproduction.  But later, the German informed me that the third person was God. 

The rest of the time, I entertained myself making faces at the baby sitting in front of me.  But then he started laughing out loud, so I stopped.

After the church, we drove up to this castle in the hills for the reception and dinner.  It was really pretty, with big hills and trees everywhere.  And no traffic, as we had left a town so small that someone stopped to ask who was getting married and then said, “Schmitt?  There’s no Schmitt family in this town!”  I was already full off the reception nibbles, which was unfortunate as that was only the beginning of the continuous feeding that lasted until 3am.  Luckily, there were long breaks between each course, where people could mingle and try to walk off the previous course.  Possibly the best part was that instead of one wedding cake, all the ladies of the town bring cakes so you have a ginormous cake buffet.  With MILLIONS of cakes.  Okay, maybe 20 or 30, but still.  Awesome.  The table was literally bending with the weight.  That’s what I like to see.

We finally left just before 4am.  And the craziest part was, it wasn’t even over!  Grandma was still rocking out!  The only reason we didn’t leave at 3am (or midnight) was so we wouldn’t be the first ones to go.  Of course, only at 1am, does the German tell me that this is completely normal and weddings usually don’t end until 3am.  And of course, was shocked that this information had not been conveyed through the description of “church, reception, dinner”.  If I had known, I would have had a lot more coffee during breakfast.  At least I’m prepared for his brother’s wedding next year.

productivity

Somehow, my days of reading in my pjs and drinking hot tea to cure my cold managed to pay off in an actual job interview yesterday.  Which then necessitated a 7am crash course in typical German interviews.  Even though none of this new knowledge proved necessary, I still found many tidbits fascinating.

1.  Salary is often expressed in terms of monthly salary.  Except that you can have more than 12 months a year – so instead of saying you get an annual bonus, they’d say you have a month salary of X, and you are paid 13.5 months a year.

2.  Asking about benefits becomes completely unnecessary, as universal health care and lack of 401ks mean you talk about salary and that’s it.  And I suppose, whether you’re getting 25, 30 or 35 days of holiday.

3.  It is both legal and normal to ask for photos and to inquire about the jobs of parents/spouses and your immediate child-bearing plans.  And many other things that would be discrimination lawsuit fodder in the America. 

Of course, none of these items actually came up, me and big German man just had a chat.  But you learn something new every day.  And now that the job search is actually progressing beyond the surfing the web/playing freecell stage, I have to wonder what it would be like working in an office full of Germans, all day, five days a week.  The German’s family is wonderful, but even just one day of struggling to keep up with all the conversation is tiring and frustrating.  So struggling to keep up while also producing something….

But, finding a job first, worrying about co-workers and mentally spending a salary in euros later.  In other worries, if I ask my friend to bring me toothpaste, baking soda, and barbeque chili paste, will TSA think those are the makings of a bomb?  I would think not, as the toothpaste and baking soda would be redundant factors.

On my way home, I also had a completely unexpected encounter.  I was carrying my heels and wearing my flipflops, which I had stashed away in my purse and pulled out once I was a safe distance from the office.  I sat down at the bus stop next to a little old Oma who looked at my shoes in amusement.  And then little old Oma started talking to me!  I had heard the Germans are not big on casual conversation with strangers at the bus stop, but what do you know.  So we chatted for a bit in my limited German and then my bus came, but Oma stopped me and gave me a bag, indicating that I should use it to hold my shoes.  Niceness from strangers and the bus stop…ahh, it feels like home.

11 countries, 14 days

There’s an article in Der Spiegel about the Chinese marathon take on European holidays, which is funny in a way because it’s so so true.  And living in the center of Munich, I see a busload of Chinese tourists virtually every day (well, every day that I’m not sitting at home and reading in my pjs).  I understand that it seems crazy to Europeans that busloads of Chinese, Americans, Japanese, and others drive around the continent trying to cram in as many “photo opportunities” and designer stores as possible.  And I agree that yes, it’s far better and more educational to meander about taking your own sweet time and meeting “real” Europeans and such. 

But I also think it’s a little unfair to interpert these whirlwind expeditions as lack of interest in real Europe and historical and cultural ignorance.  People are truly interested in the history and culture – my dad could be a university professor or tour guide with his knowledge of historical events.  And I know there are countless Australians forging their way through China and India alone, but if you’re in your 50s, maybe it’s nice to have someone help you find your way, show you around, arrange a nice hotel.  Would Herr Wagner not be pleased if his parents had wandered off the road in rural China and everyone was giving them funny looks and then some nice German man came their way and said, here, let me help you?  I personally enjoy aimless wandering and adventure, but if people want a guide, to know what they’re looking at, to understand more about the history and significance, what’s wrong with that?

And as for the pace of travel, which also never fails to scandalize and bemuse, we are not all residents of countries where 20 days of vacation is laughable and 30 is the norm.  Nor is it common in places like America and China to take gap years after college and frolick about.  Even if we did have the luxury of taking a year off before clawing our way into a rare opening at a Fortune 500 firm, how does one expect to pay for such things after funding our valuable university educations?  Maybe if we didn’t shell out $10,000 a year (or $40,000, for private education) or have monthly salaries less than the cost of a pair of jeans in Europe, we would have saved up a little backpacking money, but as we do, food and rent suddenly become more essential than spending a week lying out on the Riviera or trying to spot celebrities in Ibiza’s nightclubs.  We had a little discussion about the cost of attending university in my German class last week and the other students nearly had fits hearing about what I paid.  I didn’t even point out that this was at a public university in California, one of the relatively cheaper state systems.  Nor did I have the heart to lay down the cost of living in the Bay Area, which essentially triples the cost of your education.

I certainly don’t criticize Europeans for enjoying their free educations and extensive time off.  I would do the same (and fully intend to take advantage of the latter).  But perhaps a little less ridicule for those who are unable to do the same?

There was also an article about the increasing costs of the artificial glucose, oils, and other elements of gummi bears that reminds me I still have a 500g bucket of Schlümpfe sitting around somewhere.

you’re the feingold to my mccain

You would think a daily persual of three major newspaper sites, scanning of Google News, and forwarded articles on latebreaking news such as “Couple Tries to Name Their Child ‘@’ Symbol” and “Nightclubs Are Hell” would be enough to keep me abreast of current events in my native land.  But sometimes a desire for greater speculation on the 2008 election combined with even greater desire to avoid looking for work leads to further online research.

Which, invariably, leads to the discovery of what You Tube can do for political debate.  When I watch these clips for the third time in a row, I think of the millions of campaign dollars wasted on producing commercials people Tivo through and laugh.  Also, in an era where ‘American Idol’ alumni are considered musicians, I have to say that in addition to being incredible hilarious, the songs are not half bad.  And the lyrics downright inspired – “I like my men like I like my coffee”?  Such lyrical depth has not been shown since the days of “I love you like a fat kid love cake”.  I suggest P. Diddy get on the ball and sign up these new talents for MTV 2008: Vote or Die, II.  And as one of the relatively few artists with whom 50 Cent has no beef, I see great potential for a 2008 election collaboration disc. 

Speaking of love, the German and I were playing a game in which we took turns saying “you’re the…to my….”  I started off with salt and pepper and this quickly took a turn for the ridiculous with statements such as “you’re the Dolce to my Gabbana” and “you’re the weisswurst to my susser senf”.  However, the crowning moment of joy was when that fool goes, “you’re the ketchup to my mayonaise”.  Which apparently, Germans think go together, but I nearly fell down on the sidewalk laughing.  I love when people are funny.

trivia

The other day, our teacher asked who knew the sixteen German states and I had my shining moment of glory (because god knows it certainly didn’t come during the review of declination of adjectives in the accusative).  But states and capitals are my forte!  No matter what country!  Okay, only if we’re in Germany or America.  Still.  I knew memorizing a map would someday prove to be more impressive than memorizing yet another list of irregular verbs.  In fact, it’s proved to be impressive twice while conversing with the natives.  Clearly, the next thing to do will be to memorize a list of chancellors.  And much like the mere 16 states, committing to memory the line of chancellors since reunification is bound to be an over-tea-and-cookies task.

As a student of many teachers who believed in the necessity of rote memorization, I am a strong believer that it doesn’t teach you anything.  What good is naming of the presidents if you don’t also know the years they served and what relevant historical events occurred under their leadership?  How is it helpful to know the states and capitals if you can’t label them on a map and recognize their geographical, economic, and social contributions to the country?  Not much.  In fact, pretty much all it helps with is impressing people on the once-a-month opportunities you are given a venue to spout inane facts, winning (or at least not coming dead last) local pub trivia nights, and identifying those kindred spirits who also view The Wizard of Oz as a metaphor for William Jennings Bryan and his “Cross of Gold” speech.

However irrelevant single facts may be, there is something to be said for a bit of rote memorization.  After all, it’s embarrassing not to know the states that make up your country!  Doesn’t everyone want to at least be smarter than a fifth grader?  I blame universities for producing class upon class of math students who haven’t written essays since high school until it comes time to apply to grad school, and english students who only have to do math when it comes time to buy books.  Not only should a mandatory personal finance class be instituted (actually, I think this should take place in high school), perhaps a general knowledge test to be passed so that alumni of your distinguished institution are not running around saying, “Oh yeah, isn’t NYC the capital of NY?”

Speaking of math, at a shop yesterday I saw a 2′x3′ neon pink calculator and I couldn’t help thinking how completely awesome it would be to have a job just so I could keep that at my desk.  And when my boss stopped by to chat, I would be all, I don’t think those numbers are quite right…let me double check.

Weeks and weeks of German class and watching ‘The OC’ today, the only conversation I completely understood was an exchange that went like this:

“Oh mein gott, du magst ihm!”//Ohmygod, you like him!

“Oh mein gott, nein!  Absolut nicht!”//Ohmygod, no!  Absolutely not!

easy as A-B-C

I like to think the Deutsch is going along pretty well, what with all my newly-forged friendships with the produce man and the baker and the slow reading of various media (cooking magazines are especially fun – lots of pictures and pretty much the same words used over and over).  I even successfully made a doctor’s appointment, conducting a phone call in German that drew heavily from ‘Lektion 24: Arzt//Lesson 24: The Doctor’  Actually, other than the spelling of my name and the date/time, I pretty much recited the dialogue on pg. 243 word for word.  Excellent text book. 

However, when it came time to spell my name, I was faced with my Achilles heel: I can’t spell my name in German.  I realize my last name only has two letters, but I think the receptionist ended up writing down something like ‘L-I-E-A-Ä’.

I find the alphabet incredibly difficult because a) I never have to use it and therefore never practice and b) It’s uses all of the same letters as English, but differently!  Well, except the umlated vowels, but I can’t say those anyways.  Learning the Russian alphabet was not so difficult because it was the memorization of completely new symbols and sounds.  But it’s hard to look at an E, W, or X and think of it as something entirely different.  I envy my classmates who can spell their names without pause.  Especially the ones with at least 10 letters.

Cupcakes appear to be a foreign concept and I struggle to explain why they are different from muffins since I don’t have a firm definition myself.  Butter vs. oil?  Breakfast vs. dessert?  Frosting?  Cuteness?

inner beauty

When this¹ becomes news and when 00 becomes the new 2, it’s both endearing and incredibly hilarious to watch ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ and have a man turn to you after the first 15 minutes and say, “I don’t get it – what’s wrong with her?  She’s hot!”  Literally, thousands of dollars of designer clothing, shoes, handbags, and an extensive line of make up completely passed up by the male audience in favor of a Gap sweater-and-button down combo.  And he’s even European!

Following the film, there was an attempt to demonstrate “what was wrong” by a fashion show of grubby casual/nice casual and grubby work/nice work.  And while it was agreed that the “nice” category is nicer, I think the male mind still lacks the ability to articulate what exactly is going on.  Kind of like a child who can tell that something is good or bad or pretty or ugly, but not why.  And much like a child who eats cavier and doesn’t know it’s supposed to be a delicacy and finds it disgusting – do we really like the designer gear and size 00 models better or have we just heard too often that it is?  As women, we’ve been brain-washed well-trained to recognize the difference and appreciate the luxury of designer goods.  But if men are walking around saying the “fat smart girl” is hot and Mischa Barton is creepy, maybe the emperor really is wearing no clothes.

When I first started shopping browsing for clothes here, I reacted to the limited sizing with indignation at stereotypes of Americans as fatties.  After all, if I’m American and can’t find clothing small enough to fit me, clearly we’re doing just fine.  No XS?  No 32?  I know plenty of Americans that thin!  But then, there are also no XXL and whatever the numerical equivilant of that is.  No extremeties.  That strikes me as both fascinating and very very healthy.  Maybe if the purveyors of the fashion world didn’t spread the message that gaining a size is the equivilant of losing $10,000 from your salary, we could settle into a nice little bell curve too. 

But since that clearly isn’t going to happen, let me focus on the smaller battles in my own neighborhood – why are small shoes crammed into the back of the store like a dirty forgotten child???  I wander about and see every model with samples lined up from 37-42.  And then I have to find my way all the way back to the dark corners where a pile of shoes is buried next to socks and shoelaces.  Hmph.  Don’t they know us people with small feet also have short legs so it’s twice as tiring to hike all the way back there??

¹”I like to play piano and play Go”?  Hahaha…I like to wet myself laughing while reading the NYT.

warming up

The other night, I saw An Inconvenient Truth.  While many have rightfully criticized the film for conveying virtually no information not covered by high school science class, it’s also true that for a documentary preaching environmental awaremess, it is really doing its job well.  I mean, Al Gore lectures with his powerpoint for over 90 minutes and I did not fall asleep.  I might have done the head-bob, but compared to Bio 82 and Environmental Science 61, that’s nothing.  Plus, he managed to accomplish the same feat as that French woman who isn’t fat – getting people to pay to be preached at.  Just think, this time 8 years ago he couldn’t get people to switch to the presidential debates and watch him for free - now they’re shelling out $20 apiece. 

Okay, they’re probably Netflixing it, but still.  People + enviromental documentary + voluntary viewing.  Certainly an accomplishment worthy of an Oscar.  And speaking from personal experience, such joy has not been brought to me from a documentary since they sank the Lusitania.

When Al does his bit about the oceans rising 20 feet when chunks of Anatartica and Greenland start to break off, it occurs to me that this could be a major plus in the “living in Germany” column.  It doesn’t counteract the minuses of “no beach” and “no seafood”, but it’s a start.  Also, I guess I’m supposed to be concerned about my 80+ grandma living a mere 8 blocks from the ocean, but please.  If the woman can procure drugs and syringes from Walgreens, take weekend road trips to Reno, and con small children into doing manual labor while switching their payment from ice cream to durian, I have no doubt that she’ll be #1 Chinese Lady Elbowing People Out of the N-Judah.  No need to worry about Grandma.

On a completely unrelated note, two hilarious news stories:

Yao Ming refuese to dilute his gene pool and Countries A and B bring back the guns vs. butter debate.

real football

The combination of the passing of the legendary Bill Walsh and a friendly reminder from my university athletic department reminds me that football season is fast approaching!  While this would confuse my new friends and neighbors who say football has already started and is being broadcast on tv every night, I beg to differ.

I mean football.  You know, the great fall tradition of dragging yourself up early to hitch a ride to the game, drinking beer before noon, hiking up to the stadium hoping you make it through security before kick-off, 4-5 hours of abusing opponents and making new best friends with your fellow fans, hours of BBQ and then home to watch highlights on the evening news.  In the battle between pro and college sports, I think Saturday afternoon games are reason enough for college to pull out ahead.

And for my new countrymen who think soccer is “real” football, reasons why Americans do it better:

1. Stadium food.  If the 49s had made the Silicon Valley sponsored move to the Peninsula, they would have sold out, but there would also probably have been a gourmet restaurant in there.  Still, as anyone who’s been to Pac Bell Park knows, American teams know how to cater to fans who couldn’t care less about what’s happening on the field – with free wifi, wine, and the ubiquitous garlic fries, chicken wings, and burritos.  Which makes everyone happy.

2. Value.  While Europeans may deride the frequent time outs, penalties, and media time outs of football, think of how much more bang you get for your buck!  Especially considering the rapidly declining value of the dollar against the euro.  4-5 hours versus 2, 2 hours 15 min?  Plus, without time outs, when do you use the facilities/get food/discuss the last awesome play with your neighbor?

3.  Commercials.  SuperBowl commercials = the stuff legends (and tv shows) are made of.  European soccer commercials//werbung = the same cell phone ads you see on every channel that are also the same as the posters in the cell phone store.

4. Tailgating.  Meat.  Fire.  Meat.  Drinks.  Meat.  Family fun.  Meat.

I’m even more nostalgic because in Germany, being from San Francisco is pretty awesome because a) the 49s are so famous people here know them and b) they do not know they now suck.  In fact, now that I’ve been reminded of the fun of football season, I think I’ll move back to America.  Because, crazy as it may sound, there’s no ESPN here!  Who would have thought?  What do people watch at the gym?  Weekend activity: cost analysis of satellite tv vs. plane ticket home + football tickets.

give me a reason

I don’t know why people need sitcoms and the funnies when you have the Times for comic relief.  While I find this list incredibly entertaining (especially the excerts below¹), I am more intrigued by the taxonomy of reasons.  There’s nothing I love more than an afternoon of taxonomy.  In fact, I think I’m going to add taxonomy to my list of skills on my resume.  I kick ass at taxonomy.  An organized life is the sign of an organized mind.  And all those other cliches.

So Mssrs. Buss and Meston have broken down the main reasons for having sex into four categories:

• Physical

• Goal Attainment

• Emotional

• Insecurity

While I do find enjoy the break down, aren’t these also the underlying motivations behind all human behavior?  Eating (physical), going to German class (goal attainment), studying yourself in the mirror (emotional or insecurity, take your pick).  In fact, psychologists take it down another level with the whole internal/external motivation and reward/incentive structure.  Why the two good doctors did not take advantage of the myriad of reward/incentive-as-reasons-for-sex jokes available to them, I cannot understand.

I also enjoy the hierarchical approach: at the more basic end, actions driven by insecurity and physical need, and work towards emotional fulfillment and goal attainment.  In fact, this could serve as a blueprint for developing my ten year plan.  Maybe we could reorganize society so we work towards goals in this order: first sleeping, eating, health (okay, we’ve got that much in place already), then family and friendship, then confidence and achievement, then morality, sponteniety, and problem solving.  It makes so much sense.  Why bother telling a 3-year-old it’s wrong to eat her sister’s cookie when she barely knows what a cookie is?  And can’t tell her sister apart from grandpa?  This is brilliant!  At at a more basic level, clearly we need to have sleeping, eating, and health in place before trying to instill the confidence and self-esteem.  And above all, there should be serious growth and fulfillment before attempting any sponteniety and problem solving.  Otherwise you end up with people like my trying to solve the society’s ails using only wikipedia and Haribo candies.  Although, I think if you threw Craigslist and green tea in there, you really could solve all of soceity’s ails.

¹I wanted to feel closer to God//I was competing with someone else to get the person//It would get me gifts//I was slumming//Because of a bet//I was cold//I wanted to burn calories