Waiting for Nessie...

Lassies' Night

It's an understatement to say I was excited for my first girls' night in Scotland! Through Davy, I'd met some fantastic girls, and it surprised me to discover how much we had in common (especially Emma, an art teacher with a LOST obsession that rivals my own). We'd visited several times before, but always with our boyfriends, so to get away and have some girl talk was so refreshing...

Being in Germany has been wonderful, but it's also been a bit lonely for both Davy and me. He has some British guys to talk to at work, but no one is there now that he would want to make plans to hang out. I cannot even hold a conversation with people here who already have a grasp of English, so there's really no way any of them would get little jokes or be able to connect with most of my references. That's not to say I'm not enjoying myself here--it just reminds me how much I miss my family and friends back home.

We met up at Leoni's for a glass of wine before hopping in a "people mover" to head into Glasgow to get some supper and out to Boho. We discussed Louise's wedding planning, Emma's teaching, and generally caught up with Amy, Lynette, Leoni and me. It gave me a shot in the arm of estrogen. It also made me appreciate Davy for the fact that he has to be my girlfriend while we're in Deutchland...and, of course, it goes without saying it made me long to catch up with my girls back home! Here's to feeling like one of the girls.

British Day in Hamburg

Celebrating all things British...

Airbus Family Day 2009

This past Saturday was Family Day at Airbus (where my sweetheart is an electrical engineer). When Davy first told me about it, I was a little apprehensive...my only experiences with company picnics bring back hazy memories of the ones my dad took us to when I was a kid. Bless his heart, he only asked us to attend a handful of them before realizing what torture it was for us. Let’s just say that the one year that really sticks out in my mind, the festivities were hosted inside the eye of a tornado, we were greeted by really intoxicated rednecks, and the crawfish had run out as we arrived. Good times.

No, Family Day is a big deal--it only happens approximately every 4 years when Airbus opens its hangars to let curious onlookers gaze at the planes and inner workings of the newest aviation projects they have going. I was informed that tickets were selling for hundreds of pounds on the web and that most workers’ family members were traveling from countries all over. It brought more of a feeling of “Willy Wonka is opening the doors of his chocolate factory!” While they didn’t have fizzy lifting drinks (how appropriate would that have been?!), they did have plenty of beer. (And some free drinks for us when we accidentally found ourselves in the VIP lounge. Score!)

I was looking forward to seeing the place he retreats for many hours a day, although I didn’t get a tour of the nooks and crannies where he spends time studying for his exams OR the tea break area...

We spent the day wandering around the buildings surrounded by thousands of people, all squished in to get a sneak peek of things like new A380--a plane so enormous it features first-class suites with their own bathrooms and showers! This part of the tour was still under a photography ban, making me feel like I should take notes to relay back to Slugworth...if only I had a Slugworth!

Because I know very little about what was on display around me (and the explanations were all in German), I just enjoyed a day holding Davy’s hand, ooh-ing and aah-ing at all the machinery and keeping an eye out for pretzel stands...

Delayed Hysteria

My bike, my bike, I want my bike!

It’s been two weeks since I rode my sweet, one-month-old bicycle to the S-bahn station and hurriedly locked her up to the iron railing at the top of the stairs, rushing along so I could purchase my ticket and not miss my train. It’s also been two weeks since I returned to my stop in Rissen and trudged up the stairs to be greeted by only my bike lock coiled around the iron railing. My reaction:

It had been probably 20 years since I’d even had a bicycle of my own to use on a regular basis. The only other one I’ve ever had was lavendar, had teddy bears and heart decals on the frame, and was later outfitted with so many plastic “spokey dokeys” you could barely see anything else on my wheels. Plus since they made a lot of noise when the wheels spun, I could kiss my stealth mode goodbye. The same sense of freedom afforded to me as a child on the loose in the summertime was granted to me for the one month I had my beloved. *sniff*

I have to admit that riding that bike did make me feel more like I belonged in Hamburg. My “Hallo”s and “danke”s don’t always (but in most cases) call attention to the fact that I don’t fit in, but at least riding on my bike I could mingle about undetected as a foreigner. Plus, it made doing errands a cinch. So it is with a heavy heart that I mourn not only the loss of my bike, but the loss of that carefree feeling.

At least until I get a replacement.

My Suffs!

You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to seeing this fuzzy little face again!

Struck by Sigmar

I'm not nearly art scholar I was during my college days. While studying for my Visual Art degree, I spent countless hours pouring over my art text books (the only text books I didn't completely resent having to shell over my hard-earned cash each semester), committing their contents to my (apparently short-term) memory. The sad warning "If you don't use it, you lose it" comes back to haunt me every time I try to recall the same details of art and artists I once could recount at the drop of a hat. I've spent a lot of time lamenting the fact that I don't have the need or drive to do anything artistic the way I once did, which is why being struck by this desire again is so refreshing. I didn't even realize how much I miss drawing, creating, generally keeping my head, heart and hands busy, until Davy and I went to tour the Hamburger Kunsthalle (City Art Gallery).

Seeing the thumbnail pics I once knew so well in actual canvas form takes my breath away every time. Emotion in the brushstrokes are visible; the paint lumps make shadows that photographs don't always pick up. The masterpieces that hang mere inches away from my eyes are the products of so much talent and labor...it makes everything I studied finally become real to me.

However, as much as I enjoyed getting reacquainted with Monet, Manet, Picasso and the rest, my excitement came when we toured the back building where the contemporary pieces are housed, most notably the exhibition celebrating German artist Sigmar Polke. It's most likely because I have been raised surrounded by marketing messages, but I've always found graphic art to be the most visually engaging. His pieces filled me with a completely different energy than traditional ones. Instead of carefully dipping my toes into the Pissarros Van Goughs, quietly appreciating the technique that went into the work before me, I was finding myself swan-diving into Sigmar Polke's canvases, devouring all their symbols and bathing in their irreverence... (figuratively, of course...otherwise, I would've had a hard time explaining that to the gallery's curators.)

Davy was sweet enough to tag along with the "old masters" portion and would chime in every now in then that something looked "nice". We were both confused by some of the videos being projected for one installation ("why is that guy pretending to kayak on dry land?" is as valid a question as "and why are we watching it?"), but he soon became in awe of Polke, finding little ways to make the pieces personal ("That's what your nephew Evan says!" upon seeing the words here). We both were drawn to the nostalgic feel and pop culture references, probably in the vein hope that the lives we lead would be important enough to be captured for posterity and displayed in a gallery... plus, it's easier for us to connect with the humor of modern art. (Refined, we ain't.)

I remember learning that the meaning of a piece is directly related to the experience the viewer brings to it. That's why the reserved admiration I felt for the classic works was overshadowed by the overwhelming joy I felt viewing Polke's collection...regular patterns, symbols and modern images had been rearranged by Polke in a way that made me question what I knew about them or how I felt toward them--they really spoke to me. This is exactly why I will recommend Sigmar Polke to anyone who will listen from now on... It's also why I'm off to get started on my own version of pop art with symbols for Davy and me that speak a language all our own.

My 29th year

Let's see...what all has happened in this past year?

I skipped along the streets of London.

I kissed my Sweetheart from the top of the Eiffel Tower.

I was harassed by gondoliers in Venice.

I ate Japanese food in Milan (ha!) and I saw tartan plaid being made in Edinburgh.

I sold my house in Shreveport and said "Auf Wiedersehn" to my thankless job.

I took a road trip with my middle sister to spend quality time with our oldest sister in Georgia.

I realized how much I was going to miss having girlfriends nearby (or at least being able to pick up the phone anytime).

I packed my 2 airline-alotted suitcases and moved to Hamburg, leaving my precious Sophie in my mom's care (as collateral).

I realized Davy and I dated long-distance enough to ensure I will never take for granted the fact that I am finally able to wake up every morning next to the one who makes my heart melt.

I spent a ton of time wandering around IKEA to homeify our "flat" and am learning to communicate with German sales clerks without breaking into a flop sweat.

I stepped in the Atlantic Ocean, camped out in the south of France and got to appreciate how bright the stars were at our campsite there.

I have gone to Scotland a few more times since moving here and have loved getting to know Davy's family more.

I've found that Hamburg loves throwing a festival and that I don't have to wait too long before I have another excuse to buy some cotton candy.

I finally feel the urge to do something creative with this free time.

For the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm learning something new.

I have never been more excited or in love.

For all these reasons (and not because of the wrinkles I may get or stigma of growing older), I wish to remain 29 forever...

The Road near Callander, Scotland...

Maybe home someday, who knows?