5 February 2010 - J-E-L-L-O

[Surely you must remember the J-E-L-L-O jingle and can fill in the tune that accompanies it]

For whatever reason yesterday, I had a "hankerin'" for some flavored gelatin (let's call it what it is - jello). So I thought I could just pick up a package of it at the grocery store. Now, I think most of us would agree that a typical grocery store in the U.S. would have a floor-to-top-of-shelf display on jello and pudding products that would be at least 2-3 feet wide. So it should be pretty easy to stumble on the jello aisle here in Germany, right? Not so much.

I finally found flavored gelatin products near the baking supplies area. And not, as you can see from the picture, because the packaging screamed "gelatin" or "jello" or anything like that. Fortunately, I am relatively fluent in reading pictures. ;-) There were only three colors/flavors - red, yellow and green. No fancy kiwi strawberry flavors, nothing with fizz, no sugar-free options, no fat-free options, none of that kind of consumer choice. And no sign of pudding mixes. I took the red (raspberry) package.

Now, I will confess that it has been probably a decade since I have made jello, but I don't recall ever having had to heat water and then dissolve the sugar and jello mix into that water. In fact, I think most of the time the package already included the sugar. But it seemed to work. And then I read the final step on the package that invited me to wait 5 HOURS until the jello would be set and ready to eat. Um, okay, I have clearly been spoiled by the "instant" culture of the U.S.

I woke up in the middle of the night, as I often do. One of my first thoughts (perhaps due to noticing the red light of my BlackBerry that bore a striking resemblance to the jello color) was, "I wonder whether the jello is ready?!" It was. Perhaps the only thing better than cold pizza at 2 AM is fresh, wobbly red jello. Well worth the wait.

31 January 2010 - My Staubsauger Sucks

["What Do You Do With a B.A. in English? [It Sucks to be You]" from the Avenue Q soundtrack.]

As I may have mentioned before, I have hardwood and tile floors throughout my apartment, similar to what I had in Chicago. For day-to-day dust control, I set the Roombas loose when I leave the apartment and they take care of most of the dust bunnies of cat fur and the like. They do a fair job with the floors, though for some reason they seem to have difficulty getting up on the rugs in the living room and foyer. And, unlike in Chicago, my cleaning lady here does not bring her own vacuum cleaner with her.

So, it became clear that I needed to buy a vacuum cleaner (staubsauger). So I purchased the Dirt Devil Centrino pictured here. It looked like it had a lot of features and additional attachments, it was made by a brand I recognized, it was in a beautiful clearcoat metallic red, has a cool built-in retractable cord/storage and was reasonably priced. My cleaning lady seems to be able to work with it, as demonstrated by the dust and fur-free rugs after she visits. So all is good, right? Or not.

There was a casualty this past week. In a butterfingers moment this past week, I dropped a bottle of perfume in the bathroom one morning. It shattered on the tile floor, sending shards of glass and fragrance everywhere. Ruh roh. I sopped up the liquid as much as possible (for future reference, yes, this does create an instant home air freshener, so consider when buying a fragrance whether you would mind your home smelling like that for several week....) and shuffled around in shoes until things were dry, closing the door to the bathroom so the Lads didn't pick up glass in their little padded feet. It wasn't until this morning that I finally decided to address the potential small glass shards that might be lurking out of sight.

So I hauled out the Centrino and went to work. Or tried. There was pretty much no suction from the floor attachment, no matter how I fritzed around with the settings. I was able to figure out how to just get the hose itself free and suck up glass shards piece by piece, that that assumes that I am, with the naked eye, able to spot all such glass shards. I am not pleased. But I am in awe of how the cleaning lady is able to do anything with this machine that approximates cleanliness on the rugs. In the meantime, I have both Roombas caged in the bathroom circling around trying to address the glass issues. Go Roombas!

Update: There are sometimes when timing is really interesting. The day after I posted this was the day the cleaning lady came to visit. When I returned that evening, there was a handwritten note that read as follows: "Liebe SanDee, Staubsauger ist kaput - kein arbeit." Meaning, the Staubsauger is flat out busted. Nice.

27 January 2010 - Parkplatz

I feel like I more or less have my domestic routines down here in Germany. But every once in a while something happens and I feel totally helpless about some of the most basic things. Take parking, for example.

There is underground parking in my building so Hudson has a place to call his own. This parking garage is connected to the underground parking for the Rewe supermarket that is adjacent to my building. So, to get to my parking space, I must first use a plastic security card to raise the arm of the gate to the Rewe parking lot. (This lot is also accessible for the general public, of course, so drivers can take a paper ticket from the machine and then pay at a pay station machine before leaving. There is no live attendant.) I then drive down into the garage, hang a right, and have to use a separate garage door opener for a metal gate that rolls up to allow access to the parking beneath my building. The reverse process is followed to leave the building.

Yesterday, I was attempting to leave the main/Rewe parking garage on my way to work. I put the card on the reader and it returned a message of something "falsche" which clearly suggested there was an authentication issue of some sort. Hmmm. Tried it again. Same result. Again? No change. Hmmmm.... Not so good. There was a button with a phone icon printed on it that was part of the machine. Pushed it. No response. Hmmm...

Now, before you tell me to do the obvious (run up and get a paper ticket from the incoming gate, pay, and use that to exit), allow me to remind you that I am an auditor by training. So I had long ago tested that process to see if there was a sort of control. There is, not the least of which is that you have to have the weight or mass of a vehicle in order to trigger the ability to get a paper ticket. I may be overweight, but I'm not quite car weight yet...

There appeared to be another communication option in the form of a button/call box of some sort underneath a Notruf sign that was not at all accessible from the lane. So I backed the car up so others could get out and walked up to the call box, pressed the button and waited. As I waited, it occurred to me that I had no idea how to explain this in German, which language would most certainly be necessary for such an exchange. Uh oh.... About this time, a voice started talking to me from the box. Following is my recollection of the conversation that followed.

SIP: Hallo.... Ich bin in der Tiefgarage von Rewe. Meine Tiefgaragekarte fur Bruchstrasse 18 ist kaput. [My attempt to say that I was the underground parking at the Rewe and that my parking card for Bruchstrasse 18 was broken.]
Operator: La la la la problem la la la.....?
SIP: Um, ja, die Tiefgaragemaschine sagt etwas "falsche." [The machine is saying something about false.]
Operator: La la la la la la ihren Kartenummer?
SIP: Meine Kartenummer is null, vier, sieben. [My card number is 047]
Operator: La la la la komme la la la.
SIP: Wie bitte? [Huh?]
[No answer]

Hmmmm..... I hoped that the reference to komme meant that he was coming to meet me. But I wasn't at all sure. Now, since I was still underground, I had only one bar on my BlackBerry that kept fading out, so a call to my assistant was not possible. I sent her an email confessing that I was trapped in my own parking garage and, um, yeah, if the dude didn't come, I might need her to call someone to help me get out. Went back to my car parked oddly in the garage, crossing my fingers that I would soon be released.

Well, sure enough, about 5 minutes later a guy showed up. I drove back up to the gate. He asked when the last time was that I had used the car. I paused and then said, "Last night." At which point he started speaking English. Doh! Apparently, the gate had been up the night before and I must have not waited for my card to clear, so the system had no record that I had arrived and, as a result, would not allow me to exit. A good control, if you think about it, otherwise, I could let a bunch of people in to park. I still felt like an idiot. But an idiot who almost spoke enough German to get herself out of her own parking garage. It's these little things....

19 January 2010 - Gettin' my German on

This is so remarkable that I am breaking my "too busy to blog" excuse line.

Last night I was to meet some American colleagues at the Zum Scharzen Stern restaurant. Okay.... Finally found it. When I walked in, a server met me at the door. I started to say, in German, "I have three American colleauges" at which point said server cut me off and took me directly to my table. Okay, apparently not a lot of Americans at the restaurant.

But with this brief exchange, the server seemed to have the impression that I spoke German. Um, not so much. Though I do know my food terms.... (Priorities, priorities....)

The first issue was the (other) American partner was a vegetarian. Now, let's be clear, the server could understand English just fine. Maybe speaking English was a bit more difficult for her, not unlike how speaking German is just a BIT more difficult for me. But she was great, as are most young Europeans. Anyway, the partner asked in English if there were any vegetarian dishes available other than the salads. The server said she'd check. Cool.

She came back with a vegetarian option that she explained in German. My US partner looked a bit befuddled. She looked at me and repeated the what they had.

Oh! So I explained to my colleague that there was an option for an eggplant with steamed vegetables and a light cream sauce. And then I wondered how I knew that.... And then I realized I might, a year after moving, actually be capable of understanding food preparation. Maybe. But the colleague ordered the item and it looked quite tasty.....

Throughout the evening, the server continued to look to me for terms in German that she had difficulty translating. Most of them I got, but a few might've slipped by me. But in any event, I felt for one of the first times in the last year that I actually kinda knew what was going on and was the link between English and German. And it was good. And I felt like I belonged and was being accepted into the German collective. All good!!!!

But I will admit that when the server asked if I had been there before for an event on the second floor, I just smiled, nodded and said "ja" to fit in. I would do it again. In a heartbeat. Wonderful people. I LOVE GERMANY!!!!

15 August 2009 -

["Jump Around" by House of Pain]

This is, like many other postings, a long overdue one. When back in the US and more recently in December, people were asking how the Lads were. As I answered, I realized that I had neglected to post one of their escapades here that is somewhat relevant to the general purpose of this blog.

Way back in May or June on one of the many random banking holidays here, I had a Thursday off. Most normal people (and who have the full complement of German vacation days, which exceeds my American alottment by quite a few days) took the opportunity to turn the holiday into a four-day weekend. I had to work the following day and merely took the holiday as an excuse to watch movies late into the night the night before and then sleep in (as much as any Preuscher really ever sleeps in).

So Thursday morning I was conscious around 9 AM, got up, opened the balcony door to let in some fresh air, turned on the Nespresso machine and went into the study to check email and the download status of the Rachel Maddow podcast from the night before. I wasn't quite awake. I thought I heard someone call my name, but realized I was not only sleepy, but also hearing things. But then I really did hear something -- my doorbell ringing. Hmmm....


It was my neighbors in a high state of excitement, so much so that they were actually speaking German to me (not unusual since they are German, but unusual in that they kindly usually speak English to me). But I heard the key words -- schwarze Katze, Balkon, springen. Black cat, balcony, to jump. Accompanied by a lot of gestures. Ruh roh.


So I headed out to the balcony, where I saw Banes looking curiously over the edge. Following his gaze I saw Oxley. Yes, the neighbors had witnessed Oxley jumping from the balcony down to the roof of the building next to ours. The building next to ours (the Rewe supermarket) has a rounded roof like an aircraft hangar and is parallel to our building. So if Oxley had jumped off the lond edge of the balcony, he would have landed on a higher portion of the curved roof, hence a shorter jump. Obviously, a longer jump of a full story if he had gone off one of the ends of the balcony. Nevertheless, he was walking around on the roof and having a fine time, it seemed.

The next question, of course, is how would I be able to rescue him (which assumes, of course, that he wanted to be rescued). The direct option would be to go to the Rewe and ask for access to their roof. Alas, they were closed since it was a holiday. Hmmm....

Next idea was to ask the tenants of my building on the lower floor to see if I could try to get Oxley through their windows, which opened roughly onto the roof level of the Rewe. My neighbor and I went downstairs and tried knocking on the doors of both neighbors, but didn't get an answer. It appeared that they had taken advantage of the long weekend to get out of town. Hmmm....

My neighbor thought of another idea, though. The only remaining option (before I started trying to figure out how to craft some sort of ladder for getting down onto the roof, rescuing the feline, and then climbing back up) was the other building that is part of our building and shares a garage with our building and also happens to be adjacent to the Rewe. So outside we went. Assuming that the mailboxes at the other unit were arranged the same as ours, we hit two numbers that we calculated would be on the second floor. After a while, there was finally an answer by a rather sleepy-sounding guy. My neighbor fortunately speaks German and quickly explained the situation to him and asked if we could try the rescue attempt through his window. He invited us up.

Poor guy was still in his PJs and had apparently had a long night and I felt like a heel for having had to wake him up, but he was a good sport about it. Oxley was less of a good sport and was having a great time exploring the roof. He had no intention whatsoever of answering my call and coming to the window. So I had to launch myself up onto the window ledge and crawl out of the window and onto the roof and chase down the darn animal. My neighbor and the young guy were watching all of this with a great deal of amusement. I finally got Oxley and passed him through the window and made a rather clumsy re-entrance through the building. After thanking the guy, we headed back outside, where of course Oxley started clawing at me trying to get away. Imagine how that might have turned out. I finally made it back inside, though, and the day's drama was over.

Suffice it to say, the Lads are now only allowed on the balcony with direct supervision. It seems rather unfair to Banes since he didn't do anything wrong (and seriously, who knew these porkers could even fit through the railing to make their great escape?), but it is what it is. I consider hin at least guilty of aiding and abetting.