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?

ABSURD.

I installed iTunes onto my desktop here in Hannover today, and of course it automatically registered as German; so I was checking out the top albums, and at #4 is a band called The Baseballs, with their album, “Strike!”  I clicked.  Here’s what I found.

I can’t find a YouTube for ”Don’t Cha,” but it is particularly innovative, I think.  Sadly, one doesn’t exist for my favorite, “Love In This Club,” either.

But I guess you get the idea.  German dudes who sing top 40 songs in rockabilly style.  And apparently Germany, with just a hint (but no more) of irony, can’t get enough of The Baseballs.  Despite my incredulous head shake, I have to say…I love this country.

CABIN FEVAH

(have I not used this video on the blog yet?  I adore these boys…)

Today I got an email informing me that a boy on whom I had one of those from-afar crushes in college (you know, college-boy cute, deeply intellectual, older than me, comfortable with himself, well-dressed…someone whom I had no chance of getting to know) is following me on Twitter.  Yep.  Me.  Wow, I had no idea he knew me from Adam (or Eve, I guess?  What’s the female equivalent of this phrase?  I want to use it too often).  I then checked his Twitter page, and realized that he is now a reporter in DC, and I guess is using Twitter to get his name out there (as he is following almost 3,000 people).  I suppose I don’t have any commentary to make on this situation.

(I’VE GOT IT TOOOOOOOO)

I’ve gotten to a place in life where I’ve decided:  I need a vacation.  I’m now in a position of having to start from scratch for the second time in four months…new city (which, in Germany, means more than it does in America…remember, they haven’t even been unified for all that long), new family, new church (which I have yet to find), new friends (ditto, clearly)…new blessings, new challenges.  This is gonna be good, I think.  For now, though, I’m on overload.  I need a vaca.  Thank the Lord it’s coming soon:  Cinque Terre!

where I'll be next week...

I’ll meet my mama in Berlin (one of my favorite cities EVER…and she likes it too, which is nice ), and we’ll spend the better part of the day there; the next morning, we fly to Italy for about a week.  Fair Cinque Terre where we will lay our scene, but we’ll spend some time in Florence, too.  I CAN’T WAIT.  We both need it, I think.

OK, now I can’t resist…

 

And, finally, here’s…this.

I’ve added two new friends to my list-o-friends on the side there…and one is the person who directed the above video.  I’ll give you a hint:  it’s not the old friend whose wedding I was in last summer.  (Clearly.)  I know it’s super disturbing, but I still can’t stop laughing at it.  The first line gets me every time.

EDIT:

Here is some very specific info I got when trying to find photos of the police blockade.

MY HOMETOWN IS A ONE-HORSE TOWN, BUT IT’S BIG ENOUGH FOR MEEEEEE

(title from the very cheesy film, By the Light of the Silvery Moon, which I used to watch in my childhood…for whatever reason, this particular song, sung by my childhood crush, Gordon McRae, came to mind:  7:12 here)

I moved yesterday.  All my worldly possessions — all the ones I need, anyway, give or take a few books.  I managed to fit everything into the bags I brought here, and I was proud of myself.  Taking them on the train wasn’t even too bad!  I had help on both sides – it’s always good, I’ve found, to have a strong central European man around.

No, the hard part was being at Hannover Hauptbahnhof, as it turned out.  The night before I left, Joerg informed Karla and me that 1 May (Erste Mai – a national holiday here, like May Day), and there would be lots of neo-Nazis out in the city, and burning cars, and policemen.  “And Hannover will be worse,” he said.  Karla’s been here 11 years, and she didn’t know; she thought he was joking.

Sure enough, as Joerg and Karla and Leah and Luke and I pulled into Hamburg Hauptbahnhof yesterday morning, we glimpsed a line of about fifteen Polizei cars.  Police were milling about everywhere, and I felt a little uneasy.  I got on the train just fine, though, thanks to the help of the sweet Meiers, whom I was sad to leave.

I got to Hannover in about an hour and fifteen minutes – the usual.  Once I finally got out of the train with my two rolling bags, big backpack, overnight bag, and purse (thanks to the help of one kind German man), I headed for the horse statue where I was to meet the Meeks’ neighbors.

imagine me standing at the base of this with all my bags...

I was facing the direction from which this photo was taken.  But imagine that, instead of wearing autumn attire, the folks milling about me were dressed in black…all of them.  And to the left and the right of the statue were rows of polizei, standing there, arms folded.  Loud techno music blasting from some loudspeaker, with someone yelling provoking-sounding German things every once in a while.

I was a bit nervous for a while there.  I think I waited about 10-12 minutes, searching the crowd…until I finally saw Citi!  I smiled largely at her, she smiled at me, we said “hey,” and she grabbed my bag and said “let’s get out of here.”  Music to my ears.

I got here, and I have to tell you…it’s heaven.  This house is gorgeous.  It has three floors, as usual, including the basement…but it is bigger than any house I’ve seen in Germany.  It has 10 rooms.  Five bedrooms.  I don’t even live in the basement.  My room has HUGE windows that face the stables next door.  There’s a room upstairs with a big screen and a projector.  There’s a room downstairs that’s empty except for a tv with the Wii in the corner.  This is a family of six and they don’t have enough stuff to fill this house with.  That’s astounding for Germany.

There’s a church, literally down the street, that I found a picture of:

And the backyard of this house is a huuuuge field, with canola as far as the eye can see and hills in the background…I’ll upload pictures later but this is the basic idea:

imagine more hills in the background...and no words eclipsing the image.

The family is out of town, by the way, so I have some time to settle in.  They’re fellow Texans, so I was immediately able to find all the ingredients to make tortillas, and, consequently, a refried-bean-and-cheese quesadilla.  A couple of Dexter episodes later (I told myself I wouldn’t get hooked, and here we are), and I’m relaxed.

I miss Geesthacht already.  I miss the Meiers, and Carina and Mareike, and Thiago and Andrea, and everyone and everything I was just getting to know.  But, as Karla says, I got comfortable, and it seems like God likes to move us when we get to that place.  I’m a little weary already thinking of starting over, trying to strike up conversation, getting to know the way things work in this family, learning the kids’ strengths and weaknesses and forms of communication, figuring out how to get places, learning more German…but I know it’s for my own good.  I want to know Him more.  I hope this happens.  Here goes.

MY STOMACH WOULD WELCOME YOUR SUGGESTIONS

I’m packing to leave this place, and I think all my emotions are currently being channeled into (a)  packing everything into my two rolling bags, one backpack, and one duffel bag, and (b)  my INTENSE CRAVING for a Chick-Fil-A kids’ meal.  6 chicken nuggets, waffle fries.  I can live without the lemonade (although why would you want to?), but I really really want that kids’ meal.

Which begs the question:  does anyone have a good idea for a substitute?  I guess I can do chicken and fries at some point (not now; I don’t want to take the bus anywhere at this point in the day)…but it’s not the same.  You understand.

In other news, this is very overdue, but I have finally loved a Jeff Buckley song.

LATER EDIT:  I just want you to know that M.I.A.’s “Bird Flu” is playing on my Shuffle feature on my iPod.  I had to share that with someone.