In which I nearly punch a woman in the face.

We live less than 10 minutes away from the drive thru Starbucks in town. I'm not going to say that's why we picked our place, but it certainly didn't hurt. Today while I was out I needed to pick up some more coffee beans and swung by Starbucks on my way home.

I chose a pound of the Pike Place Roast and got in line. The woman in line in front of me glanced over her shoulder at me and gave a quick forced grin. Her eyes rested on my bag of coffee beans for a moment as the guy behind the counter reached for it and asked if I'd like it ground.

"Sure," I replied.

The woman looked back at me and asked, "Was that from over here? How much is that?"

Thinking that she was considering some for herself, I replied, quite helpfully, "Yes, just there. I think it's $9.95?"

"Ah," she said with a knowing smirk and a raised eyebrow. Next she looked at me and said, pointedly, more like a statement than a question, "Is your husband in the military?"

Now I'd lost my footing a little. Relevance?

"Ummm...Yes?"

"Well, then, you should know that you can get that in the commissary for $5.95. AND last week they had a coupon for a dollar off," she snapped, again with the little knowing smirk.

"........." I said.

".....well, that's good to know," I finished, as I listened to the guy grinding my beans. That would have been great to know before the guy took them to be ground, I thought.

And then she gives me a little laugh and another self-satisfied, condescending little gesture, and places her order for a grande Pike Place Roast, after clarifying to a different barista that NO, the ground bag of Pike Place was NOT part of her order, as if she could be that foolish.

Okay, just a few things here. One, I totally need to not let myself get worked up about this sort of thing, but I do.

Two, I was polite, but what I should have said was, "Gee, first of all, that's none of your business. Secondly, I live not far from here, so the time (40 minutes to get there and back with no traffic) and gas (16 miles round trip) it takes to go on post just doesn't seem to make the savings worth it to me. And even if I did want to save $4, I'd do just about anything to avoid going on post and having to talk to know-it-all busy bodies like YOU."

Point number three: If she was really interested in saving on her coffee, maybe she'd like to know that her little brewed cup of coffee cost her about 6 times (something like $.31 vs. $1.95) what it does to brew a cup at home. So if she buys a cup even three times a month, guess what? Her little commissary savings tip didn't make such a difference.

I have this little problem. Did I mention I have this problem?

It's crazy to me that it's been two weeks since I've posted anything. It's been one of those time paradox things lately where time seems to both drag on forever and fly by. We've been both crazy busy and bored out of our minds. With just the government furniture and what we're carrying with us, it's been a task to try and occupy Evelyn and maintain her usual routine. We've been taking a lot of walks.

A LOT.

The other day I was walking down to the dental clinic to put in a request for my records and one of the orange housing repair trucks drove up to the curb and stopped. The driver got out to go about his business, but not before drawing up short and looking at me, "You are always walking! I see you walking everywhere all the time!"

Our car has shipped now, so it's in part out of necessity. Walking is also often necessary to get Evie to take a nap. She'll fall asleep in the stroller when she simply refuses to in the travel crib. She never has a problem (KNOCK ON WOOD) going to sleep in the crib at night, but during the day, she fights it tooth and nail and will not submit. It makes for a pretty miserable situation for all involved, so when things get too cranky, we just go for a walk. Chokydar is loving it.

I keep thinking of all of these "I can't wait until..."s. I can't wait until we clear housing (Tuesday). I can't wait until we're on the plane (Friday). I can't wait until we're in Houston (Saturday). I can't wait until we get our cell phones, buy our car, get to Oklahoma, find a place to live...the list is kind of endless. Lately, I've begun to get a little sick of myself.

I've been looking forward to this move for MONTHS now. Maybe even years, really. In the past, it's been a low level buzz in my consciousness, always in the far background of my mind. Since about July though, it's been more like rock music (or Broadway showtunes in my case) playing loud and clear, pretty much dominating my every waking thought, and I'm officially tired of it.

There have been so many things to do, so many details to take care of, it's been a kind of dream and nightmare for someone who's pretty detail and planning obsessed as I am. It's fun to see everything coming together, but it's also incredibly nerve racking to ensure that things go off without a hitch. I imagine all the worst case scenarios and worry about them to no end. What if our appointment/reservation at "x" wasn't written down properly on their books and we show up and they have no room for us?? What if I accidentally packed something essential? What if Evie gets sick or hurt? What if we get to the airport and they refuse to let Chokydar fly? It isn't helpful and it isn't productive. And it's downright annoying.

I caught myself the other day repeating the same thing to Justin for the third time in a row. Okay, maybe not in a row...I probably threw in a random sentence every other line to make it seem like I wasn't harping on the same worry over and over again. I could tell by his exasperated but loving expression that I was starting to grate on his nerves, and suddenly I realized I was grating on my own nerves. I told him, "I'm going to try and stop repeating myself. I'm doing it all the time and it's beginning to get really old. I know it's just because I'm stressed and worried but I just keep saying the same things over and over and so" [pause] "So I going to try and stop...repeating...myself...OH CRAP I'M DOING IT AGAIN!"

It's been an exciting few months, but I'm ready to be settled. I'm ready to pick up my "real" life again, to get back into my drawing and crafts, to cook real food, to run errands, to visit with friends and family, to grow and begin a new chapter.

And apropos of nothing, here are some great videos of Evie--one of her playing with Chokydar and one where she tries to mail herself to Abu Dhabi. Enjoy!

IF: Impatient

It's been forever since I've posted a drawing to Illustration Friday, but when I saw this week's word, "Impatient," I knew I had to do something. I am the definition of impatient lately. After nearly four years of not setting foot in my home land, we're getting ready to move back to the states. Our stuff is packed, save a few essentials (i.e. Evie's swing, travel crib, our laptops, etc.) and I'm just itching to go. We have about a month left to go until we fly and I'm having a really hard time waiting...

We're having a bad day today

When things are going bad, I have the tendency to want them to stay that way. "What?!?" you ask, "Michele, that makes no sense! Don't you want things to get better?" The real answer is, of course I do. The answer when I'm in the depths of my pity party (You're not invited, thanks, it's a party for one. I like feeling alone. And miserable. Go away, I have no friends.) is No. Life sucks. And then you die. The world is out to get me. Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, guess I'll go eat worms.

Today just started off on the wrong foot. I was up really late last night finishing my homework for class--I'd put it off until the last minute and HAD to get it done last night. Evelyn was cranky when she woke up. She didn't want to take her nap this morning. I somehow feel a little dizzy and keep bumping into things today. I've hit my head twice already. Ouch. I haven't showered in a day. (I should be showering now, but it feels better when you're miserable to be dirty too. Don't want to do anything that might accidentally make me feel better.) The weather is super crappy and cold. We went out to run errands and of course no one was friendly. I felt fat and dirty and blech. We came home and I called the Nurse's hotline--I've been meaning to for a week now; Evie has a bit of an orangey tint to her skin that comes and goes. I don't think it's jaundice; her eyes are perfectly white and she doesn't have the other symptoms listed online for jaundice. I think it's much more likely that it's something like carotenemia but I want to make sure of course that she's okay and I'm not brushing off something serious.

Well, the nurse on the hotline said I should have her seen within 3 days. Now I feel kinda guilty because I've noticed this orangey-ness for a while now and haven't been compelled to spring into action on it. It seems to come and go and she acts normal and healthy. But I called in to get an appointment, and of course, they don't have any appointments. My options are 1)the emergency room 2)call non-stop and be on hold for the next 5 hours of my life to see if they have an opening that becomes available. I freaked out on the woman on the phone, pushed to the point of tears as Evelyn spat apricots at me and I stared blankly out the window at the gray. She gave me the number for the nurses line here in Baumholder; the other line was apparently stateside.

On top of it all, I can't help but have these huge nagging paranoid doubts about my ability to be a human being, let alone a mother. I haven't been eating that well--nothing sounds good, and I worry that Evelyn's diet isn't up to snuff or that maybe my breastmilk isn't giving her all of what she needs. I'm afraid that my lifelong food issues are going to be passed on to her.

I know it isn't as bleak as it feels right now. Thankfully, Evie has settled down for a nap, and will most likely be in a better mood when she wakes. I probably just need some more sleep myself and to go take a shower (and workout--which I haven't done in over a week!).

On a completely unrelated note, here are some pictures of Evelyn being adorable with my growing afghan:

And then I'm done. For real. For now...

I'm in a listy mood.

First of all, thanks to all of you guys who sent encouragement and happy thougts my way after my little meltdown earlier this week. I try to keep things in perspective--I know that I am INCREDIBLY lucky and blessed and really do not have the right to complain. I know sometimes it must seem, well, really annoying. "Oh, poor Michele. Stuck living in Europe. Waaaaaa." I think I've become increasingly negative about certain aspects of life here over the past few years, and that is not the person I want to be. I have more thoughts on this subject, but will save them for another post, as this one is already getting pretty long and it's quite late.

That being said, I still do have stuff to complain about, and I'd like to get it off my chest. Just because I don't like the way I feel doesn't stop me from feeling that way.

***Disclaimer: Not all of these things are Germany's fault. Some of them are Army specific, living on post specific, and all of them are me specific. I'd like to reiterate, despite my "I hate Baumholder" diatribes, it's not a terrible place--I'm just tired of living here. For me, Europe is for vacations not life. The list is in no particular order. Without further ado...

THINGS I WON'T MISS ABOUT LIVING IN GERMANY:

1. THE WEATHER.
2. Many of the people--albeit here I am mostly referring to Americans (Ahem, for instance, Rude Mail Room Guy, Grouchy Car Inspection Dude, Nasty Neighbor Woman, Passive Agressive Mystery Neighbor Person, I could go on and on and on...)
3. The general attitude and atmosphere. NEG-A-TIVE. (I know, I know. Look at me not helping, right?)
4. The toilet paper holders.
5. The toilet flushing mechanisms.
6. Having to pay to use a public toilet.
7. Having to pay inside at the gas station.
8. Messing with currency exchange.
9. The crappy exchange rate.
10. VAT forms.
11. DEUTSCHTELECOM (TKS).
12. Not speaking the language.
13. The laughable idea of "customer service."
14. The 6/7 hour time difference between here and friends and family.
15. Having to pay "International direct dialing rates" for 800 numbers.
16. Having to convert to the metric system. I know it makes more sense, but my mind just doesn't think in those terms.
17. Living on post.
18. Living in an apartment.
19. Not having any studs into which things can be nailed. There's about a half inch of plaster before you hit solid concrete, or something equally impervious. It's been a royal pain trying to hang things.
20. The fishbowl feel of the community--the fact that EVERYONE knows your buisness...what you order online, what you buy for groceries, how often your dog poops and when you leave the house...
21. Not having screens on the windows. I've become accustomed to not having air conditioning and actually like having fresh air circulate. Not having screens is a problem, though. Once I heard a girl convey a story about asking a German why they don't have window screens. His earnest reply? "But with screens...how would the bugs get out?"
22. The radiators in our apartment. They have a mind of their own. The temperature can be constant outside and the dial set to the same place yet one day the setting is fine, the next we're burning up. The dial ranges from "snowflake" (a symbol) to 0-5. What the hell does "snowflake" mean???
23. AFN (Armed Forces Network--the American television programming available here). We don't even watch TV here, but I miss "real" commercials.
24. The mailroom. The idea that a mail man might actually deliver my mail TO ME at our place of residence is so magical, I can't even begin to describe it to you.
25. The commissary.
26. Having to drive 45 minutes to get to ANYTHING.
27. Not being able to use FedEx or UPS. I can't tell you how many times I've been disappointed by "Sorry, no shipment to APOs."
28. German pastries and cakes. I want my sweets to be...well, sweet. Theirs aren't.
29. Having to be in constant "vacation mode." Do you know that feeling when you're in unfamiliar territory? The extra effort you have to put forward to finding things, always having everything be new and unexplored? It's exhausting to be in "vacation mode" for 3.5 years. When we take trips here, I sometimes feel like I'm vacationing while on a vacation--like I'm taking the life raft I live on in my river out onto the ocean.
30. European sized things. Everything is small, from the dishwasher to furniture to parking spaces and roads. I will not miss "two lane" roads that, in fact, are actually not even big enough to be one full lane.
31. How often I am denied access to things online (like streaming media and certain downloads) because I'm "Outside the U.S."
32. Randomly having web pages I frequent switch everything to German language defaults.

I may think of more and tack them on in subsequent posts.

And, in fairness, I would also like to list...

THINGS I WILL MISS ABOUT LIVING IN GERMANY:

1. The autobahn. Although I have gotten two speeding tickets (yes, you read that right), I do love the laid back feel and general not-traffic-y-ness of the autobahn.
2. Ordering out from Portofino's. Especially their pizzas and Jagerschnitzel.
3. Being so close to Belgium. I love Belgium.
4. The proximity to so much art, history, culture and architecture. Just wow.
5. The "tilt" option on the (screenless-boo) windows.
6. The deli sandwiches from the commissary.
7. The cheese streudel muffins from the commissary.
8. Super cheap, delicious, and ubiquitous local wines.
9. The yellow flowers that cover the countryside in summer.
10. This specific lone tree on a hill top as you approach Baumholder from the east.
11. Julia's Mickey Mouse tree.
12. Christmas markets.
13. Bernkastel Kues. I love that town.
14. This specific view of a valley off to the left as you cross a bridge going towards Kaiserslautern. Breathtaking.
15. The windmills.
16. The really awesome people I have met here.

Again, I will add to this list as well as things occur to me.

Passive aggressive much?

Someone in my apartment building apparently hates me. Or my dog. Or my baby. It's unclear which of us is the object of loathing because the only tip off I've gotten is a framed note on my doormat "politely" warning about the dangers of noise in the stairwell.

I find this really hilarious for several reasons. First of which is that I just had a conversation the other day with two of my neighbors about said framed notice, which mysteriously appeared at floor level on the landing between my apartment and the one across the hall from us. The two other women both have dogs. One woman is the one that lives directly above us; I've previously referenced them here. She apologized if her dog, Leo, ever disturbs Evie. It was a very nice gesture and--even though sometimes I curse Leo for all the noise he does make, I'm not about to give the woman a hard time about it, especially because she's nice and sensitive to the fact that I have a baby. They have a right to live too. These are just crappy apartments with thin walls. What are you going to do? Anyway, I apologized in turn if Choky ever bothers them, and they both replied that she's not a problem. They actually said, "we never hear her." They're obviously just being polite--sometimes they must hear her. They both wondered aloud about the mysterious appearance of the sign and we all guessed as to who might have placed it there.

Our apartment is on the first floor, so I didn't take the sign's placement personally--although after this morning, I guess I should have. When I opened my door to take Choky out this morning, right smack in the middle of my doormat, there was the sign. I suppose when the Mystery Person's brilliantly subtle tactic didn't work they decided they needed to step it up a notch to make sure I know it's ME they're trying to send a message to. This leads me to the second reason I find this hilarious:

We aren't that noisy. Honestly. Really. I mean, I have a baby and a dog, and yes, they sometimes make noise. Sue me. Evelyn doesn't cry that often, and never really in the middle of the night where it would keep someone awake, and Chokydar only barks when she hears someone else making noise loud enough to be heard in the hallway. I keep her partitioned off with us in the living room (away from the part of the apartment that faces the street) all day so that she's less likely to hear people coming and going. If anything, I get annoyed at people making noise in the stairwell because more often than not, their noise will set Choky off, which in turn threatens to wake MY sleeping baby. Can anyone else see the irony in this???

The notice doesn't even specifically mention dogs at all, which is funny, because Choky is the loudest one in our family for sure. Loud footsteps? Hello, I've just lost 50 lbs, thanks, no loud footsteps here. Metal doors slamming? I take special care to NOT slam my door. Voices? And who exactly am I supposed to be carrying on with in the hallway?

I hate living in an apartment. Most of all, I just wish Mystery Person had balls enough to knock on my door and talk to me about it if they have a problem with me. I'm just trying to get by here.

Monday, Monday

Evie has graduated from her infant car seat to a bigger "convertable" car seat that has the capacity to be rear facing now, and forward facing when she gets older. I ordered this new car seat online and had been expecting its arrival since before Christmas. Sometimes things take forever to get here, and I wasn't in any real rush, except that in my mind, this car seat would make things better and easier as far as running errands is concerned. The infant car seat was very convenient in that it snapped into a base that remained secure in the car, enabling you to pop the carrier out and go rather than struggling to unbelt and resecure the baby with every stop. The problem became, however, that while still within the weight limit, the infant seat was becoming a tight squeeze for Evelyn. It was apparent that she didn't like the contained feeling down in that little bucket and would struggle against being secured each time I needed to get her in. I thought this problem would be eliminated by the new seat. Also, while the quick carry option was very low hassle, it was getting really heavy to haul both baby AND carrier, and I was really looking forward to just having the girl to carry around rather than the girl plus 10+ extra pounds of plastic.

As it turns out, the new car seat has somewhat failed to live up to the super-powered vision I had created in my mind. It's perfectly fine...seems very safe and is relatively user friendly, but Evelyn still hates getting strapped in, and now that the seat doesn't pop out, she gets strapped in with EVERY stop. She is not pleased with this new development, and I can't say that I'm thrilled about it either. Also, the infant seat had a little umbrella cover thing that was adjustable and blocked the sun. The new seat is without such a feature, and Evie has made clear this is not acceptable.

Anyway, all that to say, we're adjusting to this new way of getting about. In preparation for a shopping trip tomorrow we stopped by to fill up on gas today. I should state first that the military has special arrangements to get gas on post at a reduced price compared to the German economy. With this arrangement comes certain regulations, however, and our gas consumption is rationed. There's also a whole system in place for how you're able to purchase it. This system has fairly recently been "upgraded" (haha), and now you must first present your papers to a cashier before you can even begin to pump. For those of us with infants, this means getting gas suddenly becomes a rather involved chore.

I pull into the station and notice a sign that states that regular unleaded is no longer going to be delivered on post. It's either Super or Super Plus (read Expensive or Expensive Plus). Yay. I unlatch Evie and we trot across the parking lot and into the store so as to show the cashier our papers and get authorization to pump. We then march back out to the car, I set Evie back in the car seat while I pump, then retrieve her once more so that we can trudge back inside to pay (there's no pay at the pump). Whew.

While we're inside, the guy in front of us in line asked the cashier about how the price converts to liters and whether we pay in euro or dollars. After getting his answer he responded, "Wow." Thinking this was a kindred soul, I commisserated, "Kinda sucky, huh?"

"Actually, it's great!" he replied. "Compared to the economy (the price of gas on the German economy), that's amazing!"

Of course, he's totally right. We have a really sweet deal compared to the price of gas in Europe, but there I stood, fixated on my forced Super gas, annoyed at the production it was to get it, and comparing instead to the lower prices in America.

I end up venting on here a lot, so I know it must seem that I'm full of complaints. The truth is, I do appreciate what an opportunity it has been to live here. I get annoyed listening to people in the community complain about EVERYTHING, and yet I end up complaining myself. It's really not that bad. I know that. On the other hand, I can't help but be slightly annoyed when people rant and rave about how much they love it here and how they hate to leave. To clarify, that's a totally valid opinion and I fully respect it. Europe definitely has a different pace and lifestyle and I can see how some people would prefer it. I think the reason I get annoyed is because I feel like I've failed by not sharing in that opinion. I have kind of a lot more to say on this thought, and I think I'll save it for another time. It's getting late and we have a fun-filled day tomorrow.

One final note--I started my online class today! I'll be learning about the Adobe Creative Suite and hopefully will soon dazzle you with all of the things that I will learn this semester.

Just another way Baumholder is out to get me...

I need Evelyn to hurry up and get to the age where she can solve my technological problems with ease and perhaps a pitying glance at her poor old mother.

I'm not sure how I did it--I know I did something--but the clock on the oven no longer functions properly. The timer is still fine and the oven functions properly in every other regard, but the clock, no matter how I try to reset the time, ends up marching to it's own beat. After a couple of hours, it's WAY off, saying it's 2 when it's 11 or 6 when it's 5. There doesn't seem to be rhyme or reason in it's rebellion. I've gotten so tired of looking at it and then remembering it's wrong, I've taken to just leaving it on the timer mode. Every time I look over, I just see "0:00" and then sigh and seek out another clock.

Which might be alright, if the other clocks weren't starting to get in on the joke.

The clock in the bathroom is battery operated and NEW, so I'm not sure why it's taken to tormenting me. I only realized this the other day, but it's running fast. It's now about 20 minutes ahead of where it should be.

My bedside clock is about five minutes ahead of my wrist watch, which is a crappy blue plastic stop watch I bought explicitly because I didn't have a watch with a second hand for timing contractions during labor. I wear this ugly clunker all the time, day and night for two reasons. First, because it has a glow in the dark button and is easy to read if I'm up in the middle of the night. The second reason is because my REAL watch, a rectangle-faced silver beauty, needs a new battery, and to date, I can't for the life of me find somewhere that can repair it for me. The PX has watch batteries to do it yourself, but they don't stock what I need and even if they did, I can't see a way to even open up the back to get at the battery.

Sigh.