How Fergus Learned That Life Has Its Ups and Downs and I get to go to IKEA

Setting: It’s Friday. I’m in my cleaning clothes, not cleaning, but doing email and reading the Internet, because that’s more fun.

As I am innocently finishing an email, when – *bang* - I hear the crash of something small-ish in the living room. Wanting to finish my email I very effectively yell at my cat Fergus from the other side of the apartment to “cut that shit out, whatever it is he’s doing”.

Silence.

I continue to finish my email. Three minutes later – **!!KA-BLANG!!** – there is a HUGE crash from the living room and I jump out of my chair yelling jesusfuckingchristwhatthefuckisthatgoddamit as I run into the hallway just in time to see a bristle-brush orange tail exiting the living room at top speed and whipping through the doorway into our bedroom, claws scrabbling across the tiles in a hopeless attempt for more speed.

I walk into the living room and the first thing I see is this:

 

After taking that in for a second, I look up and see this:

 

 

Going on a search for the culprit I find he’s taken refuge in his ’safe space’ and other than being scared stiff as a board, and fine-where-he-is-with-no-intention-of-coming-out-any-time-soon-thank-you, apparently unharmed:

 

 

After making sure he wasn’t bleeding internally or broken but in shock, I sent Oliver this cryptic email and then meanly took forever to get around to posting the story online, but there you go. It’s Friday after all…and Friday the 13th at that.

Add home repair to our list of things to do this weekend, honey. And you know how you said that the shelf could take a lot of weight? Well apparently we’ve found the limit: One orange cat.

Now I need to go pick up a lot of crap off the floor.

There’s a story in that first sentence.

{my email to Oliver about five minutes ago}

Fergus is fine but we’re going to need to do some home repairs this weekend.

{his reply 13 minutes later}

???

{my reply}

I think I will write about it on my blog. This will make the whole thing more amusing. OH isn’t this FUN!

Now What?

After years of climbing small personal mountains by moving to Germany, learning the language and getting back into the workforce, I think I’ve reached a plateau of sorts where the hurdles become less extraordinary and life and its challenges have become relatively ‘normal’ again. For a long time my goals were a focused few: get there and stay there (ie visa, language, job, overall: survive).

These all seemed big enough at the time that I wasn’t sure that I’d ever achieve them, so I spent little time and energy looking beyond them to plan for the ‘now what?’ part that comes after. But here I am more or less (still here, still foreign), and now that I have built the foundations for a life over here, I’m realizing that I now have to move forward and actually live it.

Some relocations, one that happened and one that didn’t, also had gotten in the way of me getting serious about long term plans for anything other than being ready to pick up stakes and move. Now we’ve gone and done that move, landed in Nberg, and here I am with no more excuses to not start thinking about the next moves for me.

*crickets*

{thinking…}

Use Your Good Words (Moving Abroad Pt 7)

(My) Expat Guide to sticking it out (beta v 1.2)

The seventh of 10 ( + 2) bits of advice on how to get the hell out there and not come running straight back.

There are plenty of expats I meet who are abroad are on a two-year company plan. They take pictures, write nice letters to the folks, collect their money and go home. They don’t have the drive to integrate themselves; the plan has always been just for an extended visit. The interested ones learn some language anyway, but most stop at the menu/street sign level. That’s enough for their needs.

Even if you fit into that general category, there’s an important communication skill you also need to master.

7. Learn how to effectively communicate

Wait a minute. Didn’t I already tell you twice (1,2) during this line of advice to learn some local language? Yes. I did. And now I am telling you that’s not all there is to communication.

Learning a language is hard. It takes time and a lot of effort. If you’re like me – and most other Americans – you’ll balk at the idea that you have to become fluent. You’ll try and convince yourself that it’s not necessary. You’ll look for blogs and books that will tell you that you don’t have to. Besides, everyone speaks English or is trying to learn it, right?  What’s wrong with speaking it then?

If you’re in an international working environment English will still likely be one of the strongest shared languages. Your English ability is an advantage. That is, if you – and I mean YOU – can use it right.

Wearing the Housewife Title Today With a HUGE Dollop of Irony…Sarcasm

Since I’ve kept my job in Munich (for now) and I’m only allowed to do 50% home office , I now have Fridays off.

This is a mixed blessing as, along with the free time and the long weekends, I still have a husband who has to get up and out the door on Fridays and as this SUCKS, I do get reminded. (Like when I try and get him up after the 5th time hitting snooze. I’ve learned not to take this course of action. Although it does get him going, it’s in a decidedly wrong direction, mood-wise).

Otherwise, a four-day work week is plain old FUCKING AWESOME. It’s the perfect balance between work and play. I will try to enjoy it as long as it lasts (which won’t be too much longer). Everyone should try this at least once.

Very important for someone living in Germany: it means you get to do some of that stuff you otherwise would be forced to cram into your Saturday because Germany is still, almost everywhere, on the “housewife plan”. Meaning that all stores have opening hours that assume you have a wifey sitting at home just waiting to run all those errands before it gets all un-Godly late at like, I dunno, 5:30 or so. For working people to get anything domestic done during the week, you almost have to take an afternoon off.

Have you seen the down side to this though? Yeah. It does mean that I have to do all those errands. So my free day becomes this guilt thing I have to make up for by running domestic errands because unlike SOME people, I am lucky enough to have the time.

So, so far at least, I haven’t managed to have even one of those lazy luxurious Fridays where I put on a beauty mask, take a bubble bath and give myself a pedicure. (What? That’s not selfish if you don’t do it all the time.)

I’m also doing more housework than I’m accustomed to* because for several complex reasons (and a few simple ones like being lazy or having no time depending on how you look at it) we still haven’t gotten a cleaning lady. I’m cautious on this topic because although 1) at 80% salary, I admittedly earn less, and 2) I have more time, 3) I really suck at cleaning and 4) I get really grumpy when things aren’t done right although for some reason I can’t for the life of me do it right myself. I also don’t want us to spend the time we have together doing stuff like this. So I’m theoretically saving us time and money now by more of the cleaning myself, but I don’t do a great job and end up really grumpy and pissed off about it.

Plus, I have this “housewife” issue. I don’t want to feel that I am one. There I said it. Hate me. I have power issues and am not cool with anything that makes me feel surrendered. And housework does that. Don’t get me wrong, I do my share, but once things progress past the point where the other person no longer feels like they have to thank you for doing it and it just becomes one of the obvious parts of ‘your job or share of the work around here’, I get allergic**.

But until we get a cleaning lady, I am still doing understudy work, so I do little things to keep the hives at bay and remind myself that this is not permanently my new role. A week or so before we went on vacation Oliver came home early to find me in slim black cigarette pants, peep-toe high heels and a sassy halter-top apron, vacuum cleaner in one hand, gimlet in the other.

My thought was, ‘why not let housework be an opportunity to flaunt gender roles by taking the stereotype to the extreme by pulling a June Cleaver and break in my new shoes at the same time?’

It worked like a charm, so I made a ThisNext list about it. My apron of choice is not available right now, but there’s plenty of others to choose from:

And now that I’ve wasted a few good hours of my Friday complaining telling you about it, I’ve got to get back to cleaning and errands. TGIF everyone!

*(see I am being very careful not to say that I am doing most or close to all of it because SOMEONE else sometimes cleans the kitchen, pushes the occasional mop, but never empties the dishwasher…anyway)

** Oliver is also on the record not wanting me immersed in domestic duties, at least not any more than he is, because we BOTH suck and these are the kinds of things best left up to the professionals. I concur darling… I so do.

Hey, that’s me there.

I just happened to be browsing* the blog at  ThisNext, the social shopping site where I started putting up lists about two years ago and was (at first totally and then pleasantly) surprised to see my Oktoberfest picks staring back at me. Hey now, if I’d known I’d be a contender for recognition, I would have put a leettle more thought into my punctuation.

Meh. Ah well. Still, it’s nice to be recognized, no?

To see the post in its full glory so you can be astounded all over again, click on the pic above. I suggest quickly moving on since O’Fest is over and have a browse through my list on pasties. Christmas is coming faster than you think and there’s a Santa’s Helper pair in there! Jingle Bells for everyone!

*full disclosure: this is not true. I was snooping. Their intern wrote me just before my vacation last month asking me if I’d submit an interview for their blog. The questions I got included a haiku request. This is not the normal thing I would jump at doing, but I feel challenged to swallow my skepitcal pride and give it a whirl.  I needed to see what the others have done first, of course.

Pt VI – Lost in translation

(My) Expat Guide to sticking it out (beta v 1.2)

Part six of 10 ( + 2) bits of advice on how to survive the transition without throwing in the towel.

You, the American in Germany, smile at someone on the street and get a blank stare in return. You offer small talk to your cashier and get no response. You think you’re doing a good job but your boss just tells you how he didn’t like your presentation, in extreme detail. You often tell your colleague how good she looks and she’s only asked you once if you’re ill because you look like hell.

What the hell is wrong with these people?

6. Germans are stiff and seemingly unfriendly.

Assuming for a moment that you’re with a German partner or have been to Germany on occasion, you then should know at least a bit about the cultural differences between Germany and Americans. Specifically, the fact that they are blunt as spoons.

Postcard from Sylt

Postcard from Sylt, originally uploaded by meganinmunich.

Just came back from a lovely, blustery few days on Sylt, a small island just off the coast of Germany in the North Sea.

As a former San Franciscan, I love the combination of cold beaches, rainy weather and salty air. If only they had fog, it’d be perfect.

For those who can read German, Spiegel posted an article about Sylt in the Fall.

Who’s Driving? (Moving Abroad Pt 5)

(My) Expat Guide to a Happy Transition (beta v 1.2)

Part five of 10 ( + 2) bits of advice on how to survive the transition to life abroad without going postal.

Here’s a short but important one: Sure, you’re aware of the fact that by moving abroad you’re leaving behind a country, a culture and a language.  But if you’re part of an international couple moving from one’s familiar turf to the natural habitat of the other half, there may be something else lost in the transition that you haven’t considered yet, but should be prepared for…

5. Be aware of the shift in power.

Stuff I love – Oktoberfest edition

Just for the record, I’m a consumer of more than just wine and too much food. I like stuff, all kinds of stuff.

Since others may like some of that stuff too, I make lists of stuff I like over here. I also park links to them under the tab at the top of the page entitled “I Love Stuff“. (It should be clear how I feel about this stuff by now.)

My latest list is about my favorite options for traditional Bavarian outfits (click on the image below to view). I have three dirndls and I’m feeling about ready for a new one. This could have something to do with the fact that we’re in the middle of Oktoberfest and there are dirndls afoot everywhere.

Admit it girls, you want one.

I wasn’t so sure about dirndls when I first came over. I saw them as a little sexist, but then I relaxed and turned down my overactive feminist radar left over from my college days and saw them for what they are: sexy-yet-strangely-wholesome traditional outfits that show off most women to their best advantage. That’s actually quite remarkable. You can’t say that about most clothes.