The last year has been beautiful

The last year has been beautiful.

I figured out how to better split domestic responsibilities with Michael and adopted the life-changing weekly spousal one-on-one meeting. I relished no longer having dinner be my problem. I went on daily walks with Maggie and Michael and marveled at the beauty of our home in the San Francisco Bay Area. I biked around San Francisco and enjoyed excellent food with Michael and Maggie, our very good girl. I took a multitude of pictures of Maggie and cut and threw endless pieces of carrots and green beans and radishes for her. I expanded the "foods dogs can eat" list on the fridge. I picked up trash and Maggie's and other dogs' poop at the park. I discovered a great new hike we can enjoy with Maggie. I comforted and distracted Maggie during thunderstorms and fireworks. I had Wellness Wednesdays workouts, dinner, and learning with Michael, Claire, and Maggie.

I took drastic measures to eliminate invasive weeds, built new garden beds, and coaxed the garden to be more like my vision, with strawberries, raspberries, passion fruit, olallieberries, lavender, snapdragons, carnations, blueberries, corn, onions, tomatoes, garlic, green beans, radishes, carrots, potatoes, lemons, limes, pomegranates, plums, apples, avocadoes, peppers, tree dahlias, lettuce, bok choy, nasturtium, cala lilies, camellias, hydrangeas, and more. I sorted a ridiculous amount of objects, mostly trash, dug up in the yard.

I created a baking calendar to make and enjoy my favorite goodies over the course of each year. After Reading How Not to Die, I adopted a vegetarian diet and developed a really healthy and delicious smoothie recipe. I had a delightful conversation with the person in the painting I inherited from my artist grandfather. I meditated and savored my bed. I mourned the decline of Twitter. I set app limits and loved it. I became overwhelmed with all the things I wanted to do. I drew boundaries. I finally processed an email that had been in my inbox for years. I paid someone else to take the headache of taxes for the first time this year and was ecstatic when we filed a few days ago.

I grew as an empathetic manager and cheered on many people at Techtonica. I was censured for advocating for inclusion. I received a raise. I lost a job. I learned about negotiating severance and shared what I learned. Layoffs caused hiring partners to back out of their agreements, so I negotiated contract terminations and found solutions for unplaced grads and launched a new Techtonica program to support past grads looking for jobs. I said goodbye to Techtonica's Partnerships Manager of three years and interviewed and negotiated with job candidates before hiring someone amazing who starts next week. I became the resident feedback expert. I learned about and advised and played Gartic Phone with Techtonica participants. I gathered feedback, implemented changes at Techtonica, and had the satisfaction of seeing participants and staff members thrive. I learned to stop working in the evenings.

I picked up antique woodwork and furniture restoration. I figured out how to safely and effectively strip lead paint through a lot of trial and error while devouring audio books at 2.5x. I acquired a foosball table, Eastlake furniture, and a barrister bookcase. I dusted off my piano skills and the perfect 1895 piano built in San Francisco and learned a song I've liked since I heard a friend play it in Leipzig. I visited lovely historic houses and joined an old house community. I saw a tiny Buddhist temple and learned about the history of Chinese people in Mendocino County. I installed rope caulk, bronze weatherstripping, and portières to make the winter less miserable for us.

After years of mostly business writing, I started writing for me again. I researched my great uncle who died the year I was born and found out some fascinating things about him from past students and schools he worked at, then wrote about him and my grandma. I received a letter in shorthand from my grandma to treasure forever.

I continued to learn about and try to be a better advocate of anti-racism. I managed not to suffer too much from allergies with a dog in the house, but was sick and had a mysterious skin bump and weird allergic reactions to stuff outside. I started having my prescriptions mailed, and was relieved that my doctor could prescribe the restricted daily allergy medicine, Allegra D, that I'd been buying every two weeks for years. I discovered the best non-fogging, sanitizable, breathable mask, Airgami. I lost my keys. I bought two of the most comfortable Duluth coveralls for projects but then couldn't stand to make them dirty.

I appreciated over 100 books, especially A Little Life, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, and Ejaculate Responsibly. I was in charge of the monthly family book club, mostly so I could talk to my family each month. I donated to organizations planting trees every month in hopes of curbing climate change. I grumbled about cars and smoke and noisy motorcycles and junk mail and sexism and people painting woodwork and more.

I enjoyed visits and email and text and cute and funny video exchanges with friends and family.

I'm pleased with the life I've built and who I've become and I hope to grow and experience like this over the next year, too.

Tl;dr: Life has been very full in the last year and I'm looking forward to more.

Adding Maggie to the family

 We adopted a dog! Maggie is a 4-year-old chow mix and she is so sweet. 

We marvel at how lucky we are to have found such a calm, well-behaved dog and I’m really, really glad we got an adult dog that didn't need potty training. She doesn’t chew on things, she rarely barks, she’s never had an accident inside, she doesn't eat human food, she doesn’t care about toys, she rarely whines, she doesn’t seem interested in houseplants, she only goes on grass or wood chips, she's good about not getting on furniture, she doesn't slobber, she doesn't let her tongue hang out, she doesn't often lick faces or jump on people, and she loves attention but can settle down on her own when we’re busy. Plus, she's just so cute and entertaining!

I worried about how a dog would fit into our life, but Maggie showed up and continually brings out the best in us. Having Maggie as part of the family has helped us have more balance—I think we surpassed our last year's number of walks in the first few weeks. We've learned a lot about dog care and she entertains us and sweetens our life every day. Adopting Maggie was a good choice and the top highlight of 2021.

Fogust in San Francisco

I remember wearing sandals and having a couple of warm weeks in August last year, but this "Fogust," Karl the Fog hasn't had many vacation days. Of course, when offices are kept cold enough to turn your hands blue and send you in search of USB-heated gloves, the weather outside doesn't matter much anyway.






I escaped to warmer afternoons and chilly, but Perseid-graced nights at St. Dorothy's Rest with friends. One night, I woke up in the middle of the night and went outside by myself. I drank in the starry sky, the cool, refreshing air, the smell and towering presence of redwoods, and the quiet. Even though it was pretty cold, I had to wrap up that peaceful moment for later.




What do you do when you forgot to bring your contact solution and case with you and your eyes are burn-y? Improvise with eye drops and spoons.




This is Sufi. Though Sufi often looks at me like she's judging me and I'm not usually a huge fan of smaller dogs, Sufi doesn't make messes or bark and I love having her around at work. Sadly, I won't see her anymore after this Friday.

Adventures in Humane Mouse Capture

A couple of weeks ago, I discovered mouse poop in our cupboard. We'd found poop before and blocked the hole in the back of the cupboard, but apparently that wasn't enough this time. A few days later, I went to bed early (which is a clear recipe for Michael forgetting to ever go to bed), and Michael heard scratching before I woke up wondering where he was. When we discovered a bag of chips and a bag of rice had been chewed into despite being moved to a high shelf away from the cupboard, we knew something had to be done.

I really don't like the idea of killing things, and once Michael saw the mouse freeze while using the microwave cable to climb up to the shelf, he started saying, "It's so cuuute. Can we keep it as a pet?" I told him how when I was little, I'd once found a mouse in a mouse trap at my grandparents' cabin. I can't remember if it'd eaten rat poison or if it was in a trap, but it was really weak and unable to run. I felt so bad for it that my dad put it into a box and I watched it and provided it with food. I even gave it a name—Marie. Unfortunately, Marie didn't make it. Telling that story made me remember how my siblings, cousins, and I had caught squirrels, so I told Michael about the squirrel-catching method we used: you attach a string to a stick, prop a box on the stick, put some food under the box, and wait for the squirrel to go for the food before pulling on the string.



City version of the cabin squirrel trap: garbage can, broken chopstick, and packaging string attached to an iPhone charger cable.


Unfortunately, the mouse was too scared to run out in the open and just stuck to the edges. I was really surprised by how little the mouse was; I don't remember them being the few times I saw them at the cabin. Its ability to squeeze under the oven, dart and wriggle into the cupboard, and hide behind the fridge was quite impressive. We blocked off all the good places to hide and put all the chewable packaging into the fridge or a high, closable cupboard.

The next night, after trying to get the mouse again and turning our kitchen into a disaster area, we started googling. We tried the balancing-spoon-with-peanut-butter method with a Blue Apron box (handy). We tried the balance-a-glass-on-a-nickel method. The mouse didn't fall for any of those methods even though I waited and watched each time until it came back out of hiding and wandered around. Finally, I decided to try the string-through-a-plate method and waited and waited. I think because I'd stuck the ramp right into the mouse's hiding place, it was too scared to come out again, so I went to bed after waiting for a long time.



The precarious spoon method.



The precarious plate method.


Nothing in the morning. In the evening, when I got home, I saw this in the box:




It looked subdued, like it had jumped itself out and was hopeless. I had no idea how long it had been in there, but it had clearly been jumping and trying to make a hole in a top corner to get out.

As soon as I decided I'd better cover the box, the mouse started going berserk and jumping, and its panic gave it super powers—it jumped right out even though we'd made the walls higher than we thought it could jump (about 18"). I re-set the trap, got some cardboard ready to cover it if I got another chance, and went into another room. A few minutes later, I heard scrabbling, and ran in and taped the cover over the box right away. I didn't really want to do anything with the mouse without Michael, so I left it in the kitchen like that, but I felt nervous that it was going to get out somehow and checked on it several times. Each time it had been jumping and wearing down a corner of the box where I'd added a piece of cardboard to make it taller, so I covered the corner with tape.



Our kitchen was a disaster.



The mouse burrowed its way under the bottom flap of the box whenever I'd go to look at it.


I decided to put my camera on the edge of the counter and film what it was doing when I was gone. It took 10 minutes on the dot for the mouse to make its way out.

When Michael got home, he was excited to see the mouse, but it burrowed its way under the flap and was too scared to come out, even when we put peanut butter close to it. So Michael captured this picture:


Mice can sure get flat!


I said we'd better take it to the park.



Michael was sad, so I agreed to bring along a "care package" to send the mouse on its way: some sunflower seeds.

Our conversation on the way to the park at nearly 11 PM:

Michael: "Are you sure we can't keep it?"
Michelle: "Yes, it'll chew its way out, escape, and then steal our food again."
Michael: "It wasn't stealing; it was hungry."
Michelle: "It moves really fast, so you can't really cuddle it like you can with hamsters."
Michael: "So I'll just look at it."
Michelle: "Our lease doesn't let us have pets."
Michael: "I can feel it shaking in this box. It's so scared. Maybe we can just put it in this yard [across the street] so we can visit it."
Michelle: "No. The Chow Chow that lives there will scare it to death! And it'll get into that house . . . though it'll probably find its way from the park to someone's house anyway."
Michael: "What about this house? No one has moved in yet, so it can have the whole house to itself."
Michelle: "No! Besides, there's no food in there. Whew . . . it is such a clear, cold night; look! There are a few stars!"
Michael: "Won't it be too cold out here?"
Michelle: "No, it'll build a nest and keep itself warm. My hamsters did that with whatever was nearby."
Michael: "Do you think those people are wondering why we are carrying a box into the park late at night?"
Michelle: "Probably. Maybe you should have just given it to them."
Michael: "Let's let it out here."
Michelle: "No."
Michael: "Do we have to go all the way to the top? How about here?"
Michelle: "No."

Finally, we let the mouse go, though we had to use a stick to open the flap to get it to run away.

When we got home, I said, "My parents always said that where there's one mouse, there are multiple mice." I re-set the plate trap but didn't really think we'd catch anything. After three nights of being up really late trying to catch a mouse, I weirdly took my time getting ready for bed. And then suddenly I heard scrabbling again! I turned to Michael with wide eyes and said, "Do you hear that? We've got another one!"

The second trip up the hill and release weren't quite so full of fanfare, though I kept exclaiming at catching another mouse and at the fog that had completely moved in during the ~50 minutes we'd been inside. Michael wanted to know if the mice would find each other and if they were siblings or a couple. "Maybe both," I replied.

When we got to the same spot as before, we could see that the chip and peanut butter we'd left were gone, hopefully to Mouse #1. Mouse #2 never figured out the flap thing, and it darted out and in the opposite direction of where Mouse #1 had gone. Here's a video:




No more mice have been caught. I haven't yet decided if we should ask our property owners to fill the hole or not. I don't want them thinking we have a dirty household (which we do not) and blaming it on us (especially since I'm still hoping that some day I can convince them to replace the old windows), but I also would really rather not to have to lose food and clean up after and catch more mice.

For now we have an entirely empty cupboard and we're happy to have a quiet kitchen. The mosquitoes in the bedroom, on the other hand, are as annoying as ever . . . they can smell me through the ancient windows and make their way in with the windows, blinds, and curtains closed, and we don't always find them with our perimeter checks before turning off the light. Our neighbors must wonder about the middle-of-the-night circling followed by a sudden slap of a flip flop on the wall or ceiling.

Hamster Art

When I was (how old was I? I don't remember) some undetermined age, I decided I wanted to get a pet hamster like I'd had when I was younger. My grandma said she'd let me pick one for my birthday. At the pet store, I asked, "Is it a boy or a girl?" The store employee picked up the hamster, took a look at its parts, and said, "It will be a boy."

Will be? How strange. And how strange that we didn't really ask for an explanation.

That hamster was easy to name. He became Wilby.

A few weeks later, rushing out the door to piano lessons, I glanced into Wilby's cage. To my surprise, there were things that looked like maggots in the corner of the cage. My first thought was that I had just cleaned the cage and it couldn't have possibly bred maggots that quickly. Then I realized the wiggly pink things were hamster babies.

Wilby was called Wilbyetta after that.

I don't even remember what we did with the babies, but Wilbyetta produced quite the second brood later. Watching those babies grow was fascinating. I learned about separating parents and babies and did so by building elaborate walls for the many-leveled cage I owned. I loved watching their shading develop, and I even recognized personalities. Most memorable was the tiny one I named Boo. He would always get so scared when I opened the cage that he would cower in a corner, holding his paws in shaking fists. (Boo ended up belonging to my next-door neighbor, who loved him until the day he died of cancer. Really. Cancer.)

After the second brood, though, two things happened: there were more babies than we knew what to do with, and an obnoxious and seemingly strategic comment about the smell of hamsters given by a classmate one morning made me a little hesitant about my hamster hobby.

My family joked about giving the babies to someone with a snake. I think my mom was finally the kind one who asked the elementary school teachers if any of them would like to have a class pet.

All of this background information is so you can look at only a tiny sampling of the thank-you notes I received from the elementary school kids. Before I finally toss them, I had to share some of them with you so you can appreciate the cute things kids say and their awesome artistic skills.





(Than cuw=thank you, get it?)




(What an evil-looking, but tired hamster!)




(I just really liked this one.)




(So the teacher told the kids about the horrible ending the hamster might have faced. But isn't that a just-having-eaten lump on that snake? And why is there a dog but no hamster in sight?)



(Nice drawing! And you've gotta love the "hole" instead of "whole.")

Egg Hatching

Baby peregrine falcons:





























Watch here.

Peregrine Falcon Video Stream

My dad has watched hawks nest across from his work for years. He recently sent me a link to a video camera installed to watch peregrine falcons that "nest" (they don't really build nests) on the Joseph Smith Memorial Building in downtown Salt Lake City. I've enjoyed waiting for a glimpse of the eggs/flap of the wings/vocalization more than you'd think.

Watch the falcons yourselves (for Mac users, try using VLC). Here's a screen shot I took a few days ago:




And look at these cool pictures that someone who works across the street took. (I love the comment about being sealed in the Temple. Ha.)

The four eggs should be hatching between May 24th and May 26th, so tune in!

Apparently these are some of the fastest birds in the world (they catch other birds mid-air at speeds up to 200 MPH), and these two birds come back to Salt Lake each year. Fans even block off the sidewalk below when it's time for the baby birds to be pushed out of the nest for flying lessons.

German Animals

Guess who finally saw the Wildpark in Leipzig? That means that within a matter of a few weeks, I had finally seen animals that Germans couldn't believe I'd never seen . . .

• two hedgehogs (one in the headlights--I totally scared the driver with my excited yell--and one up close in Schkeuditz)
• two foxes (one on the sidewalk--I pulled over the car onto the sidewalk and started running towards it until it ran away--and a sleepy one in a fenced-in area at the park)
• wild boars (that I guess aren't so wild since they're taken care of in the Wildpark)
  

Finally! Yes!

Letting Off Balloons

You know what? Lots of people think it's all cutesy to let off balloons. But I consider it littering. You are spreading garbage all over the place, and it seriously can't be healthy for animals to get all entangled in the strings or rubber. Can't we find something a little more nature-friendly to celebrate?

Then I googled the subject and found a really helpful site with these replacement ideas (they also have some awful examples of what balloons can do to animals):

Plant a tree

Create a wildlife garden that will attract butterflies and birds

Blow bubbles (I don't necessarily agree with this one. Soap can also be bad.)

DROP balloons (non-helium filled) from a tall building. Watch people have fun kicking and playing with the balloons. Then, pop them and dispose of correctly.

Release balloons INSIDE a church, gym or ballroom.

Memorial service -- Give everyone a balloon and a sewing pin, and tell them to make a wish for their loved one. On the count of three -- everyone bursts their balloons, sending wishes to heaven.

Cancer-free celebrations -- Give everyone a balloon, a pin and a marking pen. Tell them to write on the balloon the number of years they have been cancer-free. On the count of three -- everyone bursts their balloons. Messages on small pieces of paper can be inserted into each balloon with an inspirational message.

Outdoor Sporting events -- use bands, lights, banners, singers, crowd give-a-ways (towels, noise makers, etc.) to build excitement, but don't release balloons!

Donate books to a local library, food to a local food bank, or pet food to a local animal shelter to celebrate your group's acheivement or to honor a loved one.

And my own idea:

Distribute addressed post cards (with stamps) to random mail boxes and see what comes back! You could write, "Soandso just graduated!" or "Soandso and Soandso2 just got married!" so that the resulting message will be appropriate for the celebration.

Yeah. So let's do something about it.

Nutria

During the GDR, the government tried to help out with the lack of meat by importing what I've just learned from the dictionary is a muskrat. And apparently they kind of just took over and made Germany their home. People ate these "nutria" for Christmas like they used to eat roast goose or duck. At least, that's what I've been told.

I've seen a few nutria swimming around and I finally got this picture:



I want to try eating one. I've heard of a Fleischerei that still sells them.

Bedbugs?

Yesterday, I kept scratching at these mosquito bites that were driving me bonkers. (If you know me, you know it is my personal opinion that you should scratch them as much as you want until they bleed, and then they will stop itching.) I had one on my face, two on my wrist, two on my elbow, and one on my finger, prime spots for getting annoyed what with watches, sleeves, hair, and general movement. And I couldn't find my anti-itch cream. (Actually, do I even have any?) But they didn't seem to be getting better, and when Jenny and Seppl looked at them later, they agreed with me that it was weird there were still mosquitoes around in November. Upon closer inspection, they said they didn't look like mosquito bites at all and suggested fleas or some other bug.

Before I went to bed, I found some slide show online with different bug bites, and it looks like bedbugs! Eek. Apparently they sneak out before daylight and suck your blood, and they can go for 18 months without eating. I think I'd much prefer the mosquito.

Yeah. I do not suggest that you read about bedbugs before going to bed. It was almost like in sixth grade after watching that movie about the bugs that live in our clothes and hair and skin. I remember walking around at recess and shivering with disgust and wishing I could go straight home and stay in the shower forever. But at least those bugs are ones you don't see. And they do something useful--they take care of all those dead skin cells. But bedbugs, no. They sneak out when you're completely unaware and leave you with really itchy bites. Like Alyssa said, sneaky little buggers.

I set my alarm to wake up and try to catch it/them at its/their work, but after about 3 I could barely sleep. I didn't find anything, and I don't have any new bites, but as soon as I have time today and as soon as its late enough to vacuum without incurring wrath, I'm going to clean everything.

I can't help thinking . . . seriously, me? Again? What other health-related thing is going to pop up this year? There's only a month and a half left . . . then again, this could be a good way to get me out of bed early each morning to get things done. That's a good attitude, right?

And at least I can say something that sounds really weird. I currently have the best cold of my life. I can barely notice it and I really think it's because of that nose surgery I had.

Links and Little Goings-On

There's so much I want to tell you about. But, my discoveries of cool things on the internet pile up until I have to share them, so that goes first.

Cute sad bear children's story and illustrations.

Animation of a toddler.

A blog post of funny pictures and videos. My favorite is the little boy who has a mean look on his face when he blows out his sister's candles.

Faces kids make when playing video games.

Calm pictures of the midwest.

You know how I love crazy public transpo experiences. Check out this one with drunk silver miners and this one with the mother who has a garbage bag, beefsticks, and sprite mixed with breast milk.

My talented cousin is going to be a famous movie star some day!

West Side Story and an awesome version of Romeo and Juliet (with impressive dancing).

I've been enjoying the White House blog, which is not only proof to me of the role of technology in our times, but also a good way of getting me to at least be a good citizen and know what Germany's beloved American president is doing is going on in politics. If you're not an Obama fan, I encourage you to at least read this just to see what he's doing. I was especially interested by this post about women's opportunities.

Mormon young women advice in 1912. "Don't let yourself become constipated." Huh? Whoever let's themself become constipated? How is that even done?

Lips with two different colors of lipstick? I'm still debating. I think if there were ever anyone who could pull it off, it would be Melissa Esplin.

Pretty music performed in Leipzig recently (it was a Sunday so I didn't go).

Magnets on crocs' heads? Can you just imagine? "Hey, Crocky, nice hat." "You've got one too." "What? So that's why those dang scientists tranquilized me."

Doesn't that stink about the collapse of the library in Köln/Cologne?


And now for the things I want to share:

I made tortillas for the first time ever in my life. They turned out really well and they are so easy. I'm not sure why I always thought they were so healthy, though. Lard, flour, salt, and water. Hmm. At least they aren't fried in the pan.

I've been looking for the name of this TV show I used to watch after church when I was little. All I remember is that the main character was a teenage girl whose dad was an alien (she could talk to him through this glass pyramid thing and he never appeared on the show), and she could pause time. Pretty classy, huh? Anyone?

I started a sourdough starter. I was kind of mad that I didn't realize you have to refresh it every day and then after a while, once a week. I don't think I'll be making sourdough bread enough to warrant all that wasted flour. However, it smelled sour enough after one day that I think I can just make a new starter a day or two before I want to make sourdough bread.

I was discussing sports with my favorite English student who also happens to live across the street from me, and she again mentioned that I should see her husband, an orthopedic specialist, about my knee. So, on Friday night I went over to their posh loft that looks out into the park, bringing some corn bread with me (it was too fluffy and crumbly, thanks to some yeast that accidentally got into it, a long story). After some small talk, he asked the normal questions and proceeded to play with my leg asking, "Does this hurt? Does this hurt?" He told me that it shouldn't still be hurting and he might suggest an MRI if it continues hurting, just to be sure that it's not ripped. He said the meniscus was definitely traumatized and that something connected to it was also traumatized and thus the hard, tender part at the top of my shin. He said something else about the sensitivity of the "bone skin"--we never figured out what the real medical term is in English. He said I could try jogging, but if I had a lot of pain, I should stop, but that there would definitely be pain at the start. My leg hurt a lot after the re-examination, so that I had to make sure to sleep without my knee resting on the other knee. The next morning, I went for a very slow, very short jog (the first time since December) and it was okay (even though I wasted at least 5 hours looking at very supportive running shoes and trying to decide if it was worth it to spend 64 Euros at the least--even on sale, shoes are very expensive here--and I did not end up buying any).

I played Oh My Soul Hungered at the Relief Society birthday party while a friend played the violin. It went pretty well. I think I'm getting better at playing with feeling. (A brother here told me I need to work on that and that I should think of my boyfriend. When I said that wasn't possible, he told me to think of the mountains.)

I don't know if I need to pay taxes in America since I've only earned money in Germany and since I have a visa here. Anyone? I'm scared to start the German process. I hear it's super hard, but I can't afford to hire anyone.

Today I translated Sister Dixon's farewell testimony. I only made one mistake (that I noticed, and which I tried to fix but got lost in her starting to talk again). Also today, Mike told me I'm looking skinny and that I should eat something (ha ha) and Sister Werner told me I need to eat more. That's hilarious to me, because I'm still chubbier than I was when I first got to Germany--I know only because some of my clothes don't fit anymore. I have been trying to work out every day and eat less (see my fear of starving post if you don't know why that's necessary). My trick is to drink a lot of water while I'm eating so I feel full faster. But that leads to the nice side effect of needing to pee often.

There are some really cool new investigators, one of whom showed up for an appointment yesterday to have a church tour, and we were both surprised to see each other. She was in my class last year. Her prayer after we talked was beautiful. Some day, a friend of mine will start coming to church with me, and I will be so happy that they can share the joy of the gospel with me.

The sisters promised to cut my hair, but the lady in my ward who promised to bring her scissors forgets to give them to me or forgets them on the days I ask. On Thursday, I needed a change (okay, let's be honest here, it was also to cover a huge zit on my temple--the kind that people see and ask if you bumped your head) so I started parting my hair on the other side, which gave me a nice swept-across-the-forehead look. Ever since, people keep saying I look different (according to the sisters, more German) or asking if I've cut my hair. Here's a nice mug shot for you.

My roommate moved out, so there are now two empty rooms. I opened the doors so that light spills into the hallway. I like how quiet it is, but I'm kind of sad about that roommate being gone. People are now coming to look at the one room besides mine that is still available. We're going to be living with one fridge and no vacuum from now on. :(

I've written 2 pages of my essay. Wahoo. More to come.

I'm excited to hear your comments about any of the above . . . (that means "please leave a comment").

More Random Links and Videos

How about Google's new favicon? It still throws me off when digging through my tabs.

Four fingers to play the piano? Wow.



Scrabble keyboard.


The 80s are back never went away.




This website makes me laugh, though it might be a little harsh. If I were to make one, I would add something about a snaggle tooth in there.

I can't stop watching this and laughing:





I like this bag.

I like this short photo review of Obama's people. Did you see that there's a 24-year-old? What about the two guys with scary-looking eyes? I loved the inauguration speech though it seemed contradictory to talk about ending the war immediately and then conquering anyone who tries to fight us. (Isn't that what started the war? And is quitting conquering?) I'm still looking forward to seeing what big changes the next four to eight years will bring.

Two little kids wanted to elope to Africa. What's amazing about this story (to me) is that they're German. That means they're talking about marriage at least 30 years too early. ;)

Speaking of Africa, I don't know why I think this is so amazing, but a pet lion?




Avant-garde East German music?

I've almost survived January, though there are challenges yet to come: a friend is moving back to Ohio this week, I've got to start writing my papers, and I need to make some expensive decisions. Wish me luck!

Animals in America Course

Today I went to the first of a short series of classes being given by a guest professor, Paula Lee. Since she came late in the semester, the class was scheduled for Fridays from 1-4, killer for weekend plans and bad for the highest, warmest room in the building. I have to admit, I had some major doubts. Three hours? Yeah right.

However, I was completely blown away. The woman is brilliant. I immensely enjoyed every minute and every thought. We went from the characteristics we learn to identify with different animals (lions are courageous), to the marginalization of man from animal, to display of wealth through animals that don't need to be eaten, modern-day pets, animals too big to be pets being mass-produced to support post-industrial habits, etc. It is no wonder that she's working for Harvard. And I thought Scott would like to hear that she studied in Chicago. During class, I was typing a million miles an hour and processing every thought because she led to each higher conclusion quite nicely and with good examples--a perfect combination of literary theory, application to art, and real-life stories. I realized that if I had simply typed every word she said, I would have had a well-organized essay. I wish every professor could have such good ideas and talk about them so engagingly. I wish I could do that. Some day.

Here's some info about her at the Leipzig American Studies page.

German Visitor, German/Russian Sites, German Cooking, and German Style

Another eventful weekend has gone by. A dude from Jeff's mission (Matti) came to visit. I finally got a closer look at the Russian church here in Leipzig.



















I didn't want to pay a Euro to go in, so here's the door.






















I thought this old Russian word looked like "Utah." Agree?



















Another view from the top of the Völkerschlachtdenkmal (a monument of the Battle of Nations between a whole bunch of allied countries and Napoleon in 1813) gave us this view. Don't tell me this isn't beautiful.



















One-fourth of the way up (or three-fourth of the way down, depending how you look at it), you can already see Leipzig's skyline:



















This is a sneak preview of what you'll see inside (it's Lord of the Rings-ish) when you come to visit me!


















I saw my first Deutsche Dogge. Man, it was huge. Its head was bigger than Jeffy Big Head's. I found it completely hilarious that the lady who owned the dog kept trying to get the dog to look at the camera while she took this picture. It's a dog! I wanted a picture of the size, not the dog smiling or something. Ha ha.

















City center picture: not sure what Matti's hiding from.



















Since I was staying at the Skibbes, Philipp and I did some mad cooking together while Jule and Matti played with the kids. I've wanted to learn how to make rouladen for a long time. Now I know how, and it tasted fabulous! (I taught Philipp how to make banana bread and apple pie.)




















The inevitable finally happened: I wore brown and black together, very acceptable in Germany. It started with just the black tights and the tiny bit of brown on the shoes. Then Jule told me my skirt was too dirty after making pie and had me put on her brown skirt before we went to the fireside that was not a fireside. (The speaker showed pictures and told stories about his trip to Tahiti and then we ate salad and cake. I wrote one thing in my small plates: "President Bauerfeind fireside.")























Now a reward for all of you are still reading. This morning on my way back home from the Skibbes, I was listening to my iPod in the train when I felt something buzz and heard a noise behind me. I had my backpack on and thought, "Phone?" but I had my handy (cell phone) in my coat pocket. I decided it was the train and ignored it. Then when I was walking up the stairs in my apartment building, I heard it very clearly, and I racked my brains for what in my backpack could possibly be buzzing. Then it hit me and I laughed: my electric toothbrush had somehow switched on! Ha ha.

Bunny Rabbit for Dinner

I ate rabbit today for the first time. It was so lecker (that's "yummy"). Of course, I think anything would taste good that Phillip had made. His culinary skills have impressed me several times now. The most interesting thing, I think, was knowing that I had petted this bunny and now I was eating it. I thought I might be repelled or something, but I wasn't. Maybe it's the killing. I couldn't kill the bunny myself. I don't even kill spiders that I think should be killed, let alone an innocent, nose-wiggling, carrot-eating bunny.

Squeaky Deaky

I think Heidi would like this one. I thought it was funny at about 2:30.

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Guess Who?

Guess who caught up on blog reading (not commenting), listened to a wonderful 18-minute recording of general authorities' testimonies of Christ that Mike put on my computer, learned that a mole is a lot smaller than I thought, saw a dead mole, saw Elder Mateer drop-kick a dead mole, laughed as mini Elder Mateer for some unknown reasons dragged around a really big branch (Scots), laughed as Elder Mateer shimmied up a tree, made no goals in football (more like had some horrible misses) but had a fun time anyway, enjoyed the lovely spring weather (57 degrees Fahrenheit with a nice breeze), petted a pregnant pony named Lotte, gave Lotte's owner a pamphlet and told her about the Church website, scored a whole bunch of leftover Christmas candy from the sisters, resisted going to the institute for a lunch of delicious Klöse because she had homework to do, revised her final eight-page story for creative writing, resisted taking a nap because she had homework to do, ate two 150-gram chocolate Santas, resisted chatting because she had homework to do, ate the rest of the chocolate ice cream and a few mini candy-bars, realized some research at the library was needed, went to the library and remembered that she liked to do research as long as she understood it and had the motivation to get started, thoroughly enjoyed the first six pages of my new literary theory book, organized a wonderful document for her peers to use for editing, listened to a German book on tape of Faust, listened to a German radio station for language practice, did a ton of editing herself, remembered that she likes editing, is hoping to do everyone else's editing or at least make the editing consistent but is waiting patiently until the others try first, and is feeling so much better now about having a day of rest tomorrow?

Me!

Robins

I watched a robin hop around on our front lawn today. Why do they take three or four bobbing steps and then pause?

Nestle's Birthdogday

Today is my sister Heidi's dog's third birthday. Or the day Heidi picked as her birthday. In tribute to the whiney dog that is often overlooked, I want to say:

Nestle, I hope you like that I started to actually sometimes take you with me when I jog even though you seem too wimpy to run with compared to Kota.

Nestle, I still think you look like an Egyptian cat dog, but it's great that you'll sit sometimes when I tell you to.

Nestle, I hope you realize that when I jog painfully slow to get you to use all four legs and I continuously bend down to pull on your bum leg, it's for your own good.

Nestle, I'm sorry for all the times I fake out you and Kota by tapping on the door so I can see you. Sometimes viewing dogs is better than touching because of fur, smell, and slobber.

Nestle, you are now old enough in dog years to start drinking. Not that I would suggest it. All the other things you have shred in the yard probably have gotten enough harmful things in you.

Nestle, you will pass me up in dog years shortly, but that doesn't mean you are wiser than I. It does mean that you should stop arguing with Kota all the time (haven't you noticed all the notches you've got in your cat ears?).

Nestle, happy birthday.