Uch... enough of these New Year posts. Here's a thing: what's with all the 'young' folk and their mobile phones? (And, isn't it horrid when you realise you no longer belong in that category? Pass me something that'll reduce the 7 signs of ageing please...and the Pringles while you're at it)
Stevie and I jumped at the opportunity to go to the pictures (that'll be cinema for you non-Scottish folk) when we were back in Scotland. It was offered and we just went "Great. That'll do us. Not got a clue what's on but give us a starting time and we'll find something (that doesn't involve children acting (one of Stevie's pet hates))". So we got there and sat down and, ok, I haven't been to the cinema for a while, but it was aglow with the alert screens of about 100 mobile phones.
What's with the 20-somethings of today? Who are they talking to all the time? What do they have to say? Don't they ever run out of stuff to talk about given the fact that they're updating their pals on their every hair flick? It seems so excessive. We were on the bus as well and there were girls travelling together but each on their respective phones talking to other people. Wouldn't they be better being with the people they're on the phone to, rather than the people they're on the bus with?
My father-in-law has a new joke. He's a taxi driver in Glasgow and has started telling passengers he has a son in Berlin earning a fortune (uh, huh, where's my new lens for my camera then?); another son buying a £300,000 house; and a third son living at home who's a sex machine. The story goes that the passenger says "So tell me about the sex machine then".
So here's the thing. Son number 3 is living at home after the break up of his relationship which is the result of as my Father-in-law puts it 'too much of that texting'. Anyway, son no.3 is a popular guy. His phone never stops. If I had to live with him I'd be tempted after a week to put it on silent with a hammer such is the frequency of his text alert. Anyway, Frank apparently walked into the bathroom one day to find no.3 son in the shower talking on the house phone. Is it just me? Am I so out of touch? Or are you all so busy multi-tasking that you're making toast as well in there?
Friday, 31 December 2010
It's all about 2011
New Years Eve or Hogmanay as it's called in Scotland. It's Silvester over here and I've just checked Wikipedia to see if there are any odd traditions I need to be prepared for:
Since 1972, each New Year's Eve, several German television stations broadcast a short comedy play in English (recorded by West German television in 1963) entitled Dinner for One.[20] A line from the comedy sketch, "the same procedure as every year", has become a catch phrase in Germany.[21] Every year Berlin hosts one of the largest New Year's Eve celebrations in all of Europe which is attended by over a million people. The focal point is the Brandenburg Gate and the fireworks at midnight are centered on that location. Germans have a reputation for spending large amounts of money on firecrackers and fireworks, and so fireworks are to be seen all over the country on this night. When the clock strikes midnight on Silvester, Germans toast the New Year with a glass of Sekt (German sparkling wine) or champagne. 'Bleigießen' is another German New Year's Eve custom, which involves telling fortunes by the shapes made by molten lead dropped into cold water. Other luck bringing things are touching a chimney sweeper or have him rub some ash onto your forehead for good luck and health. Traditionally jelly filled doughnuts with and with out liquor fillings are eaten. An finally a tiny marzipan pig is consumed for more good luck.
Probably no odder than anything that's done in Scotland. Today we have fought the crowds in Edeka (where I met my fish counter friend who I haven't seen in ages) and Orla & I have been into town to look for boots. I think we left it a little too late as all the shops were closing when we got there. So we gave up and came home and made some cakes.
The fireworks have started already. There were some last night, but now they're starting off in earnest. We have heard that in some parts of the city you have people just letting off fireworks in the streets and they're flying all over the place. The Canadians downstairs are going to the Brandenburg Gate tonight with a million other people and were it not for the kids, we'd probably join them. Instead, Stevie is nursing a temperature and I'm considering nursing a packet of shortbread over a big cup of tea. I could watch that English language programme mentioned above, but if "the same procedure every year" is the funniest part, I think I'd be better off with the White Heather Club...
Incidentally, I have made a nice big list of new years resolutions/plans which you can have a nosey at here. There's also a link on the side bar entitled somewhere...somehow...
Happy New Year everyone xx
Since 1972, each New Year's Eve, several German television stations broadcast a short comedy play in English (recorded by West German television in 1963) entitled Dinner for One.[20] A line from the comedy sketch, "the same procedure as every year", has become a catch phrase in Germany.[21] Every year Berlin hosts one of the largest New Year's Eve celebrations in all of Europe which is attended by over a million people. The focal point is the Brandenburg Gate and the fireworks at midnight are centered on that location. Germans have a reputation for spending large amounts of money on firecrackers and fireworks, and so fireworks are to be seen all over the country on this night. When the clock strikes midnight on Silvester, Germans toast the New Year with a glass of Sekt (German sparkling wine) or champagne. 'Bleigießen' is another German New Year's Eve custom, which involves telling fortunes by the shapes made by molten lead dropped into cold water. Other luck bringing things are touching a chimney sweeper or have him rub some ash onto your forehead for good luck and health. Traditionally jelly filled doughnuts with and with out liquor fillings are eaten. An finally a tiny marzipan pig is consumed for more good luck.
Probably no odder than anything that's done in Scotland. Today we have fought the crowds in Edeka (where I met my fish counter friend who I haven't seen in ages) and Orla & I have been into town to look for boots. I think we left it a little too late as all the shops were closing when we got there. So we gave up and came home and made some cakes.
The fireworks have started already. There were some last night, but now they're starting off in earnest. We have heard that in some parts of the city you have people just letting off fireworks in the streets and they're flying all over the place. The Canadians downstairs are going to the Brandenburg Gate tonight with a million other people and were it not for the kids, we'd probably join them. Instead, Stevie is nursing a temperature and I'm considering nursing a packet of shortbread over a big cup of tea. I could watch that English language programme mentioned above, but if "the same procedure every year" is the funniest part, I think I'd be better off with the White Heather Club...
Incidentally, I have made a nice big list of new years resolutions/plans which you can have a nosey at here. There's also a link on the side bar entitled somewhere...somehow...
Happy New Year everyone xx
Thursday, 30 December 2010
Previously, in my life....
Christmas came, and we went to Scotland, opened presents, played with them for 24 hours, and then horrid mummy packed them away in 2 big 30kg boxes and sent them away badly packaged for the contents to be scattered casually across Europe. 
After the present opening, chocolate eating, boiler/radiator argument on Christmas Day we went down to the beach and played in the truely excellent swing park.
Then we went to Granny Margaret's and did a lot of present opening, crisp eating, dancing, and playing with cousins. And a fair whack of shopping.
And all the children were in their element, and mummy went to bed at 7:30 most nights and felt very happy about this even though she missed most of the good tv programmes and would really have liked to have seen Gavin & Stacey, and really should have studied her German.
And then we came home and Santa had been and we were all shattered, but we did it all over again. And now we are resting and food shopping and putting on washings, and getting ready for the new year. Shortbread? Check. Sparkling wine? Check. New Year's resolutions? Hmm...
Sunday, 19 December 2010
Freezing inside & out
Oh dear Stevie, looks like you're only getting 3 old fishfingers this year seeing as you've been so horrid of late. Impatience never pays. Let that be a lesson to you young man.
Present hiding in this apartment is so hard. There are very few cupboards and those I have are constantly being explored by my two little helpers. I started getting myself organised for Christmas tonight and began the wrapping of the presents. Orla's are the red and white, Hamish's the blue and white. It looks like I'm going for an American theme, but really, it was just the case that the nicest paper I saw was in IKEA. I have really pretty German ribbons to tie them up, but I got bored so that'll be tomorrow nights task.
That, and putting together the Playmobil. (At least I can hide that in the now defunct washing machine)
P.S. This freezer has never been on, so I am not actually freezing the presents. I brought my freezer with me, and since the fridge above this frrezer is crap, I didn't see the point in trying it out.
Saturday, 18 December 2010
Saturday-Shoplifter Stevie
So at the end of my last post I mentioned that I had thought I'd had my purse stolen and then I tried as I thought, unsuccessfully, to cancel my Commerzbank card, and got the neighbours upstairs involved in the cancelling before Stevie came up holding the purse that had been sitting on the sofa.
As things turned out I had quite a lot on my mind the next day what with people poking about with my eyes and then an afternoon split between entertaining the kids and mulling over the prospect of needles in my eye every 8 weeks. Apparently what I should have been doing is going down to the Commerzbank and checking whether I had actually managed to cancel my card. But I didn't. I reasoned that I either had done it, or I hadn't. If I hadn't then, great, next time I used my card all would be fine. If I had cancelleed it then my card wouldn't work and no doubt a new one and a new PIN would be making their way to me some time around Christmas. Or New Year, knowing the Commerzbank.
Am I too casual about things like this? We had cash and I wasn't in any immediate need to take money out. I didn't really give it much thought, and to be honest by Friday I'd forgotten about it. So by today, it was a near distant memory.
Until we went to IKEA. (Why is it that when you combine IKEA, me, and the Commerzbank things go hideously wrong?? Should I change my bank to get out of this horrid cycle?) We had gone sledging nearby and the kids were starving afterwards so as IKEA was handy we stopped off there for some meatballs and I managed to pick up a few storage boxes for the growing Playmobil collection which (note: I handily stacked so they were easier to carry). Oh and they had the kids basket of fabric vegetables back in so I got one of those, and then as we were passing I also thought I should get a new storage jar for my risotto rice. And then because Stevie was getting impatient to the point of not coping with IKEA on a Saturday and because the vegetables were for Orla, he went to the express checkout to pay with his card and I wandered over to the meatball freezer with the kids.
The first thing that really pissed off Stevie was getting accused of shoplifting. It's easy done when you only listen to the first half of your dear girlfriend's conversation regarding toy storage. "Should I get 2 of these? Would you be opposed to me buying another of these storage units in the New Year? Do you even care? Ok, I'm getting 3! Because I am definetly buying that when the car isn't full of sledges and crates of empty bottles.". So he scanned 1 crate twice, and then he got collared and the first I knew about it was him screaming across at me "What? 3??? You never told me you were getting 3? Moan, moan, moan". At this point I could tell that Stevie was getting to the point where he can easily be tipped over the edge of reasonableness into a foul mood not because he was now being classed as a shoplifter, but because the transaction was taking too long.
So I shouted back, "Just forget it then, just get 2. It really doesn't matter", you know as you do, because even though you really want something you'd rather just have an easy life. And then we got to payment. If I had known better I would have walked out of the shop with my children and run for the hills and never returned. But you see, I'd forgotten all about Wednesday night. But I remembered as quick as a flash when his card got rejected and he got directed over to a 'colleague'. Shoplifter and card stealer!
Well, what can I say? I forgot it was a joint account and that he might be affected. Curse the Commerzbank! Curse my successful telephone cancelling!
I am going to end up with a terrible guilt complex. Not only do I feel bad about cancelling Stevie's card, but when we got home I put on the washing machine (with a final big bag of Playmobil in it) and now the washing machine is broken. It isn't able to drain, and we can't find the blockage, and even though there is no substantiating evidence, I think we all know that there is a high probability that a pride of lions are more than likely the cause of our soaking wet floor. Has anyone got a dark hole I can crawl into before the downstairs neighbours come round to complain about the massive costly damp patch on their ceiling?
As things turned out I had quite a lot on my mind the next day what with people poking about with my eyes and then an afternoon split between entertaining the kids and mulling over the prospect of needles in my eye every 8 weeks. Apparently what I should have been doing is going down to the Commerzbank and checking whether I had actually managed to cancel my card. But I didn't. I reasoned that I either had done it, or I hadn't. If I hadn't then, great, next time I used my card all would be fine. If I had cancelleed it then my card wouldn't work and no doubt a new one and a new PIN would be making their way to me some time around Christmas. Or New Year, knowing the Commerzbank.
Am I too casual about things like this? We had cash and I wasn't in any immediate need to take money out. I didn't really give it much thought, and to be honest by Friday I'd forgotten about it. So by today, it was a near distant memory.
Until we went to IKEA. (Why is it that when you combine IKEA, me, and the Commerzbank things go hideously wrong?? Should I change my bank to get out of this horrid cycle?) We had gone sledging nearby and the kids were starving afterwards so as IKEA was handy we stopped off there for some meatballs and I managed to pick up a few storage boxes for the growing Playmobil collection which (note: I handily stacked so they were easier to carry). Oh and they had the kids basket of fabric vegetables back in so I got one of those, and then as we were passing I also thought I should get a new storage jar for my risotto rice. And then because Stevie was getting impatient to the point of not coping with IKEA on a Saturday and because the vegetables were for Orla, he went to the express checkout to pay with his card and I wandered over to the meatball freezer with the kids.
The first thing that really pissed off Stevie was getting accused of shoplifting. It's easy done when you only listen to the first half of your dear girlfriend's conversation regarding toy storage. "Should I get 2 of these? Would you be opposed to me buying another of these storage units in the New Year? Do you even care? Ok, I'm getting 3! Because I am definetly buying that when the car isn't full of sledges and crates of empty bottles.". So he scanned 1 crate twice, and then he got collared and the first I knew about it was him screaming across at me "What? 3??? You never told me you were getting 3? Moan, moan, moan". At this point I could tell that Stevie was getting to the point where he can easily be tipped over the edge of reasonableness into a foul mood not because he was now being classed as a shoplifter, but because the transaction was taking too long.
So I shouted back, "Just forget it then, just get 2. It really doesn't matter", you know as you do, because even though you really want something you'd rather just have an easy life. And then we got to payment. If I had known better I would have walked out of the shop with my children and run for the hills and never returned. But you see, I'd forgotten all about Wednesday night. But I remembered as quick as a flash when his card got rejected and he got directed over to a 'colleague'. Shoplifter and card stealer!
Well, what can I say? I forgot it was a joint account and that he might be affected. Curse the Commerzbank! Curse my successful telephone cancelling!
I am going to end up with a terrible guilt complex. Not only do I feel bad about cancelling Stevie's card, but when we got home I put on the washing machine (with a final big bag of Playmobil in it) and now the washing machine is broken. It isn't able to drain, and we can't find the blockage, and even though there is no substantiating evidence, I think we all know that there is a high probability that a pride of lions are more than likely the cause of our soaking wet floor. Has anyone got a dark hole I can crawl into before the downstairs neighbours come round to complain about the massive costly damp patch on their ceiling?
Thursday, 16 December 2010
Conceptual eating
Taking my mind off things, last night we went out for a final goodbye meal with our friends who left Berlin today to return to Derby. Stevie has been desperate to try out Vapiano which is a chain of restaurants across Europe selling pizza and pasta. There is one not far from where we live and every time I've passed it it has been really busy. As you walk down the street you can look in the window and see chefs making the pasta by hand, and that has made me quite keen to try it too.
So that's where we went as our friends hadn't been there either. When we arrived we noticed that most of the seating is at high tables with high stools. Not ideal really for a 2 and 3 year old (complete with sledge). But we were also pleased to note that the place was mobbed - that's got to be a good sign when eating out, right? We eventually found a table with seats at a height that would not cause spinal injuries if the kids were to fall from them and a lady at the front desk gave us 4 swipe cards and menus and nicely explained to us how ordering worked. The menu is split into price bands (totally pointless to be honest) and once you have decided what you want you queue up at any of 5 or 6 stations to place your order and watch it being made right before your eyes. Everything about it was just a bit gimmicky. I think you are meant to be impressed by the 'coolness' of standing in a queue to watch your food being prepared, but 1 minute in you can't help but think it's an awful lot like standing in a queue in McDonalds and that's not really that cool.
Once you get to the top of your queue you get to watch your very own meal getting prepared. Again this is fun for about 30 seconds. The sullen chef asks you to select which pasta type you want and then you get to watch him take it from a shelf and tip it out of a takeaway container into a wok-like thing. Once he's made your meal you hand him your little swipe card and he adds the cost on to it. I was queueing with my friend and Hamish and I got my food first along with the kids. I went back to the table and then the guys went up and ordered their pizzas. By the time my friend got back to the table with her meal I had finished mine. And 20 minutes later when the pizzas were ready she had finished hers. Call me old fashioned but I quite like eating together and being served by someone.
The food was ok though, there was just a bit too much concept going on.
Oh and then I thought I got my purse stolen. But it turned out I'd left it on the sofa at home. But not before I 'may' have cancelled my Commerzbank card and got confused by the German recorded message on the 'cancelling your card' phoneline and then went upstairs and disturbed my neighbours and got them to phone the Commerzbank to make sure it really was cancelled. Then we got disturbed by Stevie at the door, who it turned out had been sitting looking at my purse the whole time. But it was worth it because I got to check out the inside of their flat which I hadn't seen before. (Sparse, nice wood floors, extremely large abstract art on the walls, and a running machine in the corner - in case you're wondering)
So that's where we went as our friends hadn't been there either. When we arrived we noticed that most of the seating is at high tables with high stools. Not ideal really for a 2 and 3 year old (complete with sledge). But we were also pleased to note that the place was mobbed - that's got to be a good sign when eating out, right? We eventually found a table with seats at a height that would not cause spinal injuries if the kids were to fall from them and a lady at the front desk gave us 4 swipe cards and menus and nicely explained to us how ordering worked. The menu is split into price bands (totally pointless to be honest) and once you have decided what you want you queue up at any of 5 or 6 stations to place your order and watch it being made right before your eyes. Everything about it was just a bit gimmicky. I think you are meant to be impressed by the 'coolness' of standing in a queue to watch your food being prepared, but 1 minute in you can't help but think it's an awful lot like standing in a queue in McDonalds and that's not really that cool.
Once you get to the top of your queue you get to watch your very own meal getting prepared. Again this is fun for about 30 seconds. The sullen chef asks you to select which pasta type you want and then you get to watch him take it from a shelf and tip it out of a takeaway container into a wok-like thing. Once he's made your meal you hand him your little swipe card and he adds the cost on to it. I was queueing with my friend and Hamish and I got my food first along with the kids. I went back to the table and then the guys went up and ordered their pizzas. By the time my friend got back to the table with her meal I had finished mine. And 20 minutes later when the pizzas were ready she had finished hers. Call me old fashioned but I quite like eating together and being served by someone.
The food was ok though, there was just a bit too much concept going on.
Oh and then I thought I got my purse stolen. But it turned out I'd left it on the sofa at home. But not before I 'may' have cancelled my Commerzbank card and got confused by the German recorded message on the 'cancelling your card' phoneline and then went upstairs and disturbed my neighbours and got them to phone the Commerzbank to make sure it really was cancelled. Then we got disturbed by Stevie at the door, who it turned out had been sitting looking at my purse the whole time. But it was worth it because I got to check out the inside of their flat which I hadn't seen before. (Sparse, nice wood floors, extremely large abstract art on the walls, and a running machine in the corner - in case you're wondering)
Eye spy something beginning with Aaaaaahhhh!!
check out that pupil dilation!
I had my proper eye clinic appointment this morning. I was meant to go when I arrived here as I had seen my own opthalmic surgeon the day before we moved here and he suspected that I might need some additional laser surgery. It has taken me 6 months to actually see a doctor. At first I went to find a GP and I got that crazy woman doctor that loved clowns. She seemed to be reluctant to refer me to anyone and as I didn't know the system here very well I just didn't really do anything about it. Eventually on my second or third time seeing her she told me that I could just go to any clinic and get it done, saying there was even one on the corner.
At that point I realised that she probably didn't know what she was talking about as the 'clinic' on the corner turned out to be more or less an opticians who also carried out laser vision correction surgery - not the same thing at all. The thought of letting some Saturday boy loose on my eyes doesn't really appeal.
Then I changed doctor (GP) and at the same time found myself a diabetes consultant. I asked my diabetes consultant for a name/recommendation and she gave me a card for a woman who she said was understanding (for those with phobias) and would be qualified to do my laser surgery. I made an appointment with her and then looked up her website. Isn't the internet a wonderful thing? I found out that this doctor practised cosmetic eye surgery and acupuncture. Yes, quite. I do have massive bags under my eyes that need seeing to, but once again, not quite what I was really after.
Throughout all this I was having lots of appointments where I kept having problems with not having my passport with me, or my health insurance company wasn't being recognised as a proper health insurance company and of course the language barrier was a little troublesome. With my phobia I like to know exactly what is going to be happening to my eyes and I like to be able to ask to administer my own eye drops, and I generally like to explain that I am not mental, I just don't like people near my eyes and that I find it all quite difficult. So there was a bit of me that really wanted to delay the appointment until I could scream "Woah, what do you think you're doing to me???" in German.
So, I ended up going on the Toytown website and found a recommendation for a doctor at the eye clinic in the Red Cross hospital. So today was the day, and I managed to answer nearly all the questions in German despite being a nervous wreck. I assumed my German would go out the window when I felt so nervous, but I think I did ok. Luckily I recognised most of the equipment so I knew what tests were being done, and the words for 'vitrectomy' and 'retinopathy' seem practically identical.
The doctor when I eventually saw him spoke very good English (though when I made the appointment my number one concern was more that he was a specialist in the area that I needed him to be a specialist and not his language skills), and he had a really lovely manner and was very gentle around my eyes. The good news for me is that I got away today without needing to get anything done. The bad news is that I have a new problem at the back of my right eye where I have some liquid pooling that if it gets worse would require me to have a drug injected into my eye every 8 weeks. I go back in 3 months to see how the situation is, but as long as I take good care of my diabetes and watch my blood pressure then it should be no worse. I will be accepting donations of high strength valium and diazapam in the event that eye injections become necessary.
Thank god it's over for now. I am shattered with the stress of it all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
