A LITTLE OBSESSED

{in which I list my latest obsessions.  Let’s see how healthy this makes my brain and body sound.}

1.  This Brandon/Janette duet, choreographed by Wade Robson, from this past season of So You Think You Can Dance.  (Make it full-sized for full effect.)

Just…wow.  Brill-yunt, as Mia Michaels would say.  I’m dying to learn how to do from 1:02 to 1:06.  (And put on round shades and a bowler hat.)

2.  Kettle corn (fresh from the pan) and Nutella.  Oh yeah, it’s gross.  I’m penciling in more Wii Fit time as we speak.

3.  Phoenix, Phoenix, Phoenix!

4.  Related to #3:  looking up things to do on my day off in Paris…(Yes, it’s a month and a half ahead; but what else is a girl to do in that amount of time, but dream of put-together outfits and crepes and lights?)

i guess i'll go up it this time...

 

david sedaris informs the traveller that there is a lovely puppet theatre at luxembourg gardens.

definitely hitting up the marc by marc jacobs store on the rue st. honore.

4.5  My new Anthro dress.  To rock in Paris with a denim jacket (preferably one with a more streamlined edge, with a zipper or two) and killer flats (which I don’t have, either).  And a good scarf.  One thing at a time.

the a-line is fabulous on.

5.  Looking up pictures of all the new babies on Facebook.  I’d post some here (I don’t mind showing off my friends’ cute kids), but that might be creepy.  Instead, I will show Heather Armstrong’s BEYOND ADORABLE baby, who’s being broadcast on computers across the world anyway…here she is, with her big sister Leta.

i can only hope to have kids this cute someday.

6.  The feeling of accomplishment I get when I successfully navigate a foreign language to get to the end result for which I’d hoped.  For some reason, it rarely happens in Italy, but in Germany, it’s a feasible option.  God must have His reasons for sending me here.  (And I just got my concert ticket for Paris…I think I forgot more French than I learned!)

7.   British TV.  I LOVE IT.  And I get it in spades over here, because we have Sky TV (aka British cable)!  I’m very into the following:  “As Time Goes By” (starring Judi Dench…amazing), “Jonathan Creek” (reminds me a little of the charm of Monk), “Snog Marry Avoid” (a “make-under” show…apparently there are women in Liverpool who look a bit like drag queens), “Gavin and Stacey” (ADORABLE…you must watch it), and “Airline” (reality show — helping cure my fear of flight, one episode at a time).  They also show reruns of the odd US show…apparently the Brits love “3rd Rock From the Sun”?

 8.  MAD MEN.  I’m a freak about it.

that joan holloway is an inspiration to curvy girls everywhere, no?

I recently received an email from a friend who’d gathered from Twitter that I’m into the show, and she was feeling unsatisfied with some aspects of the show.  In responding, I realized…I’m just a ’60s fiend.  I didn’t even have many words to back up my love for the show.  I know the writing’s solid, the acting and character development deep, the production value meticulous…but when it comes down to it, I adore the ’60s.

 

And I’m still adding to the list.  What’s one of your current obsessions?

LIPSCHITZZZZZ.

DISCLAIMER:  for Broadway nerds only.

I’m catching up on Hulu (did you know it’s not available overseas?!  Yeah, neither did I.  So I’m watching SNL.), and one skit made me laugh a lot.  I’ll post it here.

http://www.hulu.com/watch/52190/saturday-night-live-save-broadway

Wish I could learn how to embed Hulu videos.

MOST DAYS LATELY I AM CONTENT WITH MY SINGLENESS…

…but some days, all I want is to be thrust into an implausibly romantic situation – which starts out under terrible circumstances but ends with love, imperfect and hopeful – in Alaska with Ryan Reynolds.

BACK HERE, BABY

(you gotta listen to this one.  Austin sent me some songs for my Sicily trip, and I never really cared for Animal Collective before, but this song sticks with me now.  “All I want is four walls and adobe slats for my girls…”)

I started my Sicily-Hannover journey yesterday morning at 8am, when Miz and I left her house in Catania for the airport.  My journey went thusly:  car to Catania airport -> bus to Palermo train station -> bus to Trapani airport -> plane to Bremen (a really cool-seeming city – Palermo is, too – wish I could’ve explored) -> tram to Bremen Hauptbahnhof -> train to Hannover Hauptbahnhof -> taxi home.

Traveling alone is this weird dichotomy – in one regard, I feel spoiled by it, as Mary Elizabeth and I commiserated.  We both get easily annoyed with our families now when we travel with them – they’re too loud, too whiny, too in-our-business, too anxious.  Being alone negates the possibility of having an outlet for frustration, so we’re forced to “get over it” sooner rather than later. 

But at the same time, I wished for someone to share the adventures with me.  I saw the most impressive monk crossing the road in Palermo – brown robe, grey bowl cut and long beard, cross necklace, Bible in hand – and wanted desperately to whisper “monk!” to someone standing next to me.  No such opportunity.

In the Bremen airport, I had a sudden craving to photograph the people getting on the train.  I want to share with you the people who rode high in the air with me:  the bespectacled boy wearing a shirt that proclaimed “War of the Robots”; the hippie-chic girl with the effortless curly bob, beautiful breezy olive dress, and ponytailed Eurogorgeous boyfriend (ok, so I kind of wanted to be her); the tall redheaded boy wearing some kind of shirt printed for abitur (Sophie Schule in Hamburg?  Didn’t ring any bells) with Borat’s face on it; the German boy, tanned from holiday, wearing a “The Godfather” BRAND shirt (in Sicily!!!!); the obvious Americans in their chacos; the Italian mama with a bedazzled shirt declaring, “Shake Your Life!”

And I wanted you there with me when the fiftysomething taxi driver, stuck in the awkward situation of driving a 22-year-old girl 30 minutes to her house, turned on the radio and flipped past three stations (German rock, mainstream pop…I enjoyed them) before settling on “I Kissed a Girl.”  (Also, after running a red light, he told me that red is a taxi driver’s green.)

Anyway.  I’m all set to do it again tomorrow – minus about a million buses, thank goodness!  I’m headed for Tejas.  Maybe I’ll see you there.

SICILIA, YOU’RE BREAKIN MY HEART.

(go listen to Simon and Garfunkel’s “Cecilia” if you haven’t in a while.  For some reason I can’t find a good YouTube version of it.)

I’m here in Sicily with Mary Elizabeth, and I can’t tell you how wonderful it is.  You know when you hang out with someone and your soul feels revived?  That’s how it’s been.

So far, we’ve been to the market in Catania (where I bought a dress for 8 euros!), seen Star Trek (fantastic) at the movie theater on base (where they play the national anthem before every showing of a film), played copious amounts of Rock Band (M.E.’s sister Katherine made up words to the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ “Give It Away”), slept late, fried lumpia (delicious Filipino food…long story), devoured grenitas (yummy Sicilian dessert), seen a castle, and mutually adored Paul Simon and Steve Martin’s banter on Jimmy Fallon.

And God is reminding me:  we need Christians around us.  It’s like home.

OBLIGATORY…

…but really not.  I wasn’t planning on making a “Michael Jackson Post”; I didn’t deem it necessary, because what could I say that hasn’t already been said?

That still remains clear, but I had to say something.  I’ve caught pieces of media coverage – I live in Germany, not Mars – and it’s hard not to have a reaction.  He was – IS, I think – the most famous person on the planet, and we all have some idea about who he was.  Most of us have very personal memories involving his music/various bits of pop culture, and we appropriate him as our own.

That’s not to be taken lightly.  Neither is the fact that he was a great sinner.  So am I, by the way.

Some of the points in the memorial seemed calculated (cough cough Brooke Shields) or creepy (pained MJ voiceover with cursive subtitles) or downright wrong, but the genuine moments broke me.  The two main points were:

(a)  when they showed the video clip I posted at the top of this post.  That little boy is undeniable.  He’s just bursting with life right there.  He hits notes and does runs I think most pop stars couldn’t manage today.  But mostly what made me cry was thinking of everything that’s happened since.  I think this is self-explanatory.  Someone mentioned, too, that it’s strange to see how Michael seemed so emotionally grounded during these sorts of childhood performances – and as he aged physically, he seemed to get more childlike.  This breaks my heart.

(b)  Seeing his daughter speak at the end.  It brought to sober life one of the creepy voiceovers from the service:  “It’s nice to be seen as a person, and not as a persona.”  (I’m loosely paraphrasing.)  A girl lost her daddy.  We all, to some degree, know what that feels like.

Anyway.  I’m sad today.  And it’s a complex sadness – like I don’t feel entitled to be sad, because I didn’t KNOW him or anything, and furthermore, wasn’t he weird or something?  At any rate, I really do want the press to back off.  Show some dignity, people, and let a human being’s family have some actual time to process.  Death is one of those ultimate realities, and if this life, so devoid of contact with reality, does not get the decency of experiencing reality now…well, I’m going to be royally pissed, and I guess that’s all I can do.

That’s all.

YOUR SUGGESTIONS, PLEASE.

(currently listening to this one on repeat – can’t get enough – wish I’d been in Houston for the show last month!)

Tomorrow is the Fourth of July, and, as luck would have it, I am spending this American holiday – which is best spent on a lawn somewhere, with family and friends, free entertainment, good food, and lovely fireworks (and preferably some kind of sing-along) – by myself, in a town where I know approximately five people.  (And, lest you forget, in a country where we just don’t do fireworks…even for our own independence-esque day…unless it’s New Year’s.)

I’ve decided I’m going to celebrate nonetheless, dammit, and I want your contributions!  Here are the plans thus far:

-dress in a patriotic manner (Sarah Jechow, remember when we’d paint our toenails to look like the American flag?  I only had access to red paint, so we’ll have to manage with a monochromatic look for 2009.  I’m sure the world will cope. )
-make a yummy dinner…and I’m not wanting to go to the grocery store, so it’ll have to be chicken wings, sweet potato fries, macaroni and cheese, and tomato slices (for healthfulness…and the red color).  It has been suggested that I track down something blue to drink, and I think this is wise.  Dessert will be cherry ice cream and SMORES, using the graham crackers I brought from America!
-lots of Wii Baseball.  Yes, against the computer.
-tracking down some fireworks on YouTube.
-reading up on some current American issues/happenings.  I was about to write some lame excuse about Michael Jackson hijacking my news radar, but truthfully, I’m not great at keeping up.  Even when I live in America.
-renting and watching some kind of great American movie.  If I can’t find the video rental place, this will mean a double feature of Elizabethtown and The Graduate (the latter of which I have not seen yet).

That’s about it thus far.  Other suggestions include doing a game of hopscotch, participating in one of the American traditions like reciting the pledge of allegiance, and eating apple pie.  That last thing I could do, but with some difficulty…we shall see.

I’m grateful to Manders for posting a fabulous video on her blog (my favorite moment comes at 1:06).  Any other ideas?  I will document and produce proof of my having celebrated our nation’s birth.  And don’t you disappoint me by not doing something great with your family!

WELL THIS IS OBNOXIOUS

U2 is on tour, and I kept forgetting to check the dates.  Now I’ve checked, and it appears that…

(a)  They are playing in Milan the night I fly from Germany to Sicily.  (I was thinking of flying into Milan, but it’d be too much hassle.)

(b)  They are playing in Berlin the night after I fly from Berlin to Houston.

(c)  They are playing in Houston two months after I leave Houston for Germany.  (That date is also two days before I go to Paris for a weekend…of course, U2 will have played Paris months prior.)

I suppose this is God’s way of gently saying, “Hannah, love, you’ve spent a buttload of money to see U2 once, and I’m thinking that’s enough for now.”

Well, this just means I’m all the more determined to see the even-less-hipster-friendly Coldplay in August.  Who’s with me?!

(seriously…off my favorite album of theirs and everything.)

LIKE THE OREGON TRAIL?

Part of my daily life involves going to Google Uebersetzer to make sure I know what the recipes on the backs of packages are saying.  This keyboard I’m using is American, and thus does not have all necessary letters (umlauts, etc.) that the German language requires…so, after typing in a line from the back of this Dr. Oetker’s Quarkfein (instant pudding), here is the translation I received:

250 g edible Quark (skimmed-level) and stir unt* with the whisk smooth dysentery.

I wish I could think of a witty quip for this – but now I must get back to my work of nannying.  Sans dysentery, one hopes.

 

*yes, I misspelled “und”…I was typing by sound, ok?

IT’S THAT TIME OF THE YEAR

(i think i will never tire of neko case singing in my headphones.)

I’m back in Germany, and have been for a week; and there is much to tell.  In the course of three weeks, I…

…saw my mom, brothers, and “extended family” of friends from college
…slept…a lot
…ate increasingly less Nutella as time went on (!victory!)
…swam in the Ligurian Sea
…saw the Italian Riviera
…saw my dear, dear friend Amy Long get married to the love of her life
…saw Sir Ian McKellen, Patrick Stewart, and JUDE LAW onstage (my stomach’s still fluttering from that last one)
…got lost in Florence for a few hours…unfortunately, it wasn’t as breezy as it may sound
…took in art and artifacts at both Tate museums and Victoria and Albert (all of which are great, but V&A is stunning!  I can’t wait to go back someday!)
…saw Up! in 3D…well worth your time
…headed to Wal-Mart, Chick-Fil-A, Hamilton Place Mall, Plato’s Closet, World Market, Barnes and Noble…THANK YOU to dear Ashley Saturday for her love in this way
…received my very own copy of The Fountain of Youth – way to go, guys!!
…hiked a bit.

And more, even.

But all of that’s to come.  Right now, I have something plaguing my mind, and I decided to take it to the blog.  Naturalich.

I was puttering about online, and came across a wedding slideshow of an acquaintance of mine.  Worth a watch, I figured.  So I watched.  30 minutes later, I’ve completed that, discovered a new engagement also in my circle of acquaintances (and sifted through two Facebook albums documenting said engagement), and proceeded to scrutinize profiles of friends of mine who, now that I think about it, I could swear are THIS close to changing that relationship status.

Now, this doesn’t happen to me often…but I started to get so envious.  My stomach churned and my mouth pursed and the next thing I knew I was sticking out my tongue at the girls in the pictures.  Of COURSE the pictures are perfect…what else would befit these perfect girls with their perfect legs and their perfectly handsome fiances/husbands and their perfectly-sized groups of friends and their perfectly whole families!  Wedded bliss just around the corner, after a delightful season of party-planning and dress-shopping AND WHYARENTIONEOFTHEM.

I got up for a bathroom break (mercifully) and a little voice said, “But wait – you’re not jealous of Amy, are you?”  It doesn’t take long for me to realize:  no.  “Wait a minute,” the voice said – “isn’t there a pattern in these people you’re sticking out your tongue at?”  I thought.  Yes.  I don’t really know any of them.  Not really.  Going through all the people whom I hold close to my heart, though, I can’t think of any I’d stick out my tongue at.  I’m really, honestly happy for them.

And immediately I remembered last summer, being at Corinne and Josh Mather’s wedding, and talking with Charlotte Okie.  “I think it’s a miracle whenever anyone gets married,” she said in that quiet I’m-just-observing way.  She and I agreed:  whenever two sinful people love each other enough to say, “I pledge my life – body and soul – to you, sinful person whom I love”…and then it happens?  God HAS to be involved.  What a miraculous, mysterious, weird, beautiful thing!

I can’t stick my tongue out at these women whom I don’t know, because if it’s right (and as far as I can tell, it is), then it’s a divine appointment, having little to do with their perfect legs.  They’re just like Amy, whose new husband we prayed for even before we knew him.  They’re like Mrs. Miller, who was the first woman Mr. Miller ever dated.  They’re like Kara, whom Cantley finally got up the courage to pursue years after they’d known each other.  They’re like Mrs. Ward, whose Mr. Ward loved her and her kids enough to marry her and adopt them after they lost their husband and dad.

How can you be jealous of that?