While I was out...

Travels

2011-07-01T20:39:00.004+02:00

Being a housewife certainly is consuming, as I see my last post was in February. But recently I traveled to Italy and wrote the following blurb. Here is a pic of my little man running around with his favorite new toy on our terrace in Rome, and hopefully I can put more time aside soon for a nice update. I can tell you this though; being a mom is really awesome...

6-12-11

It's been awhile since I could sit down and articulate, regardless of the fact there is oh so much to say.
Wife, mother, friend... Seems I have been trying my luck in all the finer pursuits in life. Finer, to me. Is there a more
important job than mother? A more difficult job, than wife? I think not, and while trying to be the best I can be, I know
it is only possible from having those beautiful people in my life I can call friends.

From the time I was a girl I knew I wanted to pursue the life of the housewife, knowing I could pull it off so much better
than my own mother. It's funny though, how even though I hold her parenting in such low esteem I still crave her guidance.
I was trained well, through my various jobs in cooking, cleaning, house care and child care. Also within my own nature
there is a tendancy to guide and 'mother' so theoretically I should be golden. But still it is tough, with constant worries
of whether I am doing what is right for my son.

For example, even though I speak german not too shabbily, I am loathe to hear my beautiful little boy speaking german before
english. So while all my other mother friends are sending their children off to KITA, (german equivelant of child care or
preschool) my Alex stays home with me speaking english throughout his days and playing games only with me and other children
who also speak english. Am I robbing him of social interactions? When he is 3, only a short 20 months away, he will definitley
be in KITA because I know at this time he will NEED to be in a learnig program. But now, when his favorite fun is playing with
other people, shouldn't I relent and send him off to become germanized? Such a connundrum. To be entirely honest, I think I
would be quicker to acquiesce to this if I could speak with the KITA people, but again the language barrier comes in and makes
me think differently. Am I just being lazy? Because I know if I were back in California I would have no problems enrolling him
into any number of programs for toddlers his age...

But enough of my guilt, let us dwell upon the finer things in life for a moment. Such as here and now, wine and a beautiful italia
sunset. Yes I am sending this out from beautiful Rome, where I am lucky enough to be spending a week with my 2 beautiful boys.
So many monuments, landmarks, historical sites, culture and all the knowledge that comes with them. But really, what do I want to
do? Walk around and drink wine, of course! Our friends who have traveled here with us have put us to shame with there exuberant
energy for exploring the city from 8am till 10pm, walking and seeing all there is to see. But my family, we just like to stroll..
Chillin' through the city and coming upon what we may. Granted, most the things we have seen so far we have made it to only
because we were lost trying to meet up with our ambitious friends (and very rarely do we actually find them!) but half way though
the trip I have had such a spectacular time.

Never thought I would get here, but here I am. Trying my best and giving my all.

The dearest of friends.

2011-02-20T10:51:00.004+01:00

Sometimes in life we are lucky enough to find a person who we connect with. A person we can love and admire, look up to and learn from, run to for comfort and compassion when it seems the world is dark and cold. Dispel our fears and give us hope. Today I would like to tell you about her.

2006 was a pivotal year for me. I left my fiancee and moved in with a friend, and on the same day was confronted with my father laying sick and asking for death in the hospital, while his wife scoffed me and made known my presence wasn't welcome. It was devastating, but a few months later my greatest dream was coming true; I was finally moving back to Santa Cruz. Needless to say, I was in great need of someone to believe in me and remind me how much joy there is in life, and I found her working as a new office manager in my beloved Calypso.

Gladys was so cool; savy and fun, but wise and strong. She would come and chat about how cute someone was, then share a story that would teach you love for yourself and the freedom to enjoy life. She would tell the funniest stories, but was never afraid to tell you if something from her story was painful or she had been scared shitless. She was a real woman, strong and full of life. Even my defensive heart had no power to not adore this woman, and every day I would come in and share my stories with her. It seems at least once a week I was asking her advice on some seemingly major event. And she was always there, not once turning me away or leading me to believe she had anything but love in her heart for me and everyone around her. So when a sickness swept into a loved ones life, she was there. I was so afraid, but even more afraid to see or let anyone else see how desperately afraid I was. Gladys had known cancer, she had looked it in the eye and told it to step the fuck back! She had beaten it and she gave me the strength to see that our loved one could beat it back too. She put her arm on my shoulder when I couldn't keep back my tears, and taught me that you need to be strong for the people you love.

She was the first person I told of my prince that was whisking me to Germany, the first hug I ran to in 2009 when my own mother took a bullet. She was the first one I called when my son was born. She gave me life, by showing me how to love myself and enjoy my life for the fun ride that it is.

I will miss her so much. THE WORLD will miss her. Anyone who ever was lucky enough to be touched by Gladys' smile will feel the pain of her absence. Strength to us all now, and I will hold every memory tight, so she lives on forever within us.

Looking forward

2011-01-20T15:49:00.005+01:00

Winter in Germany.. Cold, gray, depressive in mind and body. You gotta give it to the german people man, they know how to brave the elements. I remember last winter, pregnant and hating the rain, seeing the people all out and about their business and wondering how they managed it. They're not chipper mind you, but they get up and do it. More than I can say for myself most days. Hence the age old german mantra, "Da ist nicht schrecklich wetter, nur schrecklich kleidung" which directly translated means "there is no bad weather only bad clothing."

And when I get us all dressed up and go out, I look to the trees bare and desolate, and I remember the leaves as they were in the spring and summer. I conjure the vision to push myself through the snow drifts and the tight lipped population.

But now on my desk there is a stack of forms, labeled USCIS.
United States Citizenship and Immigration Services.
Roberts green card application, and my ruby red slippers taking me home.

Sounds great, right? I mean, since my return in April of 2009 I have been cursing this country for taking me so far from my loved ones, and now everything is set up to start the process of returning home, but I falter. I pause.

What if I bring us back to poverty and destitution? What if my pushing to come home lands Alex in a school that introduces him to Americas highly dangerous and addictive drug culture? What happens if we have no money to send Alex and Robert back to Germany to visit their family here, and Alex misses out on knowing them?

So many questions, and I hesitate more and more. Perhaps it is the human condition that we are all afraid of change, but before I had another life resting in my heart I had never known it. I have always believed in the freedom to get up and go when you felt it was right, and always had the confidence in myself to know I would be just fine. Salem, OR: Reno, NV: San Jose, CA: Santa Cruz, CA: Hamburg, DE. It was no thing to just get up and go, but now that this beautiful person so full of life is hanging onto my heart, I stammer in my purpose and wonder if my motivations for going home are best for us or for just me. Cause it isn't just me anymore...

The Application of Appreciation; Paying Attention to the Details

2010-12-06T23:14:00.009+01:00

Happiness can be defined for me as an exquisite feeling of love, and connection to the space you occupy at the moment. Complacency.

Going home, to my beautiful land of the free and home of the brave, gave me happiness in many more ways than the obvious. Being home gave me the peace of mind to stop for a moment, appreciate my life wherever the path may lead, and pay attention to the little things that make it all so beautiful.

Starting out in Philadelphia, we were greeted by the warmth and style of our dear friends home, which they graciously opened to us to the fullest extent. We were provided with a high chair and sleeping bed for Alex, as well as toys and most importantly the ambiance achieved when around people who love you. Alex was a hit, charming everyone he met, including the playfully good natured dog, Miles. I was in love with the house, a 3 story colorfully decorated jewel located, I believe, in fish town. I would wander from room to room admiring the art on the walls, and even the shades of colors the rooms were painted in. It was an unbelievably warm and lovely space, and I appreciated every moment of spending time there. I enjoyed an incredible girls night out, complete with crazy taxi drivers and an excellent combination of girl power and fun. Too soon, it was time to leave to go to California..

But of course, stepping off the plane into the warm California air, I knew it was indeed time; I was home.

Now I was born in and spent a good 20 years of my life in California, so being back was the most natural thing in the world for me, but this was different. I was home with my family. 'Family' being like an entity separate unto itself that required much of my time and attention.

But I was home.

How can a person begin to describe the feeling of being back, after so long. Lets not forget when last I was home, fleeing back for respite after my moms s-word, finding out after 2 weeks I was pregnant. Intense is too dull of a word for it. I was in shock. But this time, I soaked up every ounce of it. I have such regret there weren't twice as many hours in the day.

I have snapshots in my head. Dee and Angie singing to a screaming Alex in the backseat. RT grubbing on some begniet goodness. Maya, wine, picnic table.. Silliness. Andy and Chris and Allen, teasing me in front of the fire. San Francisco. Dancing. Oh, heaven.

I relished every second. Within the first few days of leaving Germany I completely lost my voice, I believe because I wasn't accustomed to talking so much. When I know everyone around me speaks my language, I tend to enjoy pontificating and trying to be funny. My humor however is not that great, so in translation I don't believe it does anything more than make me look confused. Which I do oh so well by myself =)

So I talked and laughed and danced, and found myself really thawing out from Germanys chill. Like a battery, I tried to soak it all in for use over the winter. And Robert, my dear husband whose life has changed as fast and as surely as mine, was able to see me in my element. I can't know what it is that he saw, but I saw a change come over me in the way of the application of appreciation, and paying attention to the details. I saw it as me holding his hand just a little bit longer, laughing at jokes just a little bit harder, glancing at him with just a little more pride. Perhaps it was just the time we spent uninterrupted by his work, but it really really was nice.

It wasn't all fun, as is to be expected for sure, and many times I would find myself stretched so thin I would literally have to schedule every minute of my time. Alex, and his disdain for being in the car, forced me by the end of the first week to ensure we were stationed by 7pm, and that helped. But still it was crazy busy. I was so tired sometimes, I would force myself to not talk to anyone and sleep because I knew my brain was not functioning properly. But it was so hard, since everything in the way of comfort and home was right there in front of me!

We were pimped out in the cabin in the forest, looking out over the redwoods and into the sky. My lovelies there provided us with everything we needed, including all the wood we could burn to keep the home fires burning. I was amazed at the ease and comfort we were shown, especially since we were there for almost 3 weeks straight. Even now, having been back a week, I wake up sad to know I won't be able to give Mayers some coffee on her way out the door. We LOVED it there.

Every day, driving down San Jose Soquel Road, I would drive gazing through eyes of immense appreciation. Rain or shine, that house at the bottom of the hill with the bright yellow leaves falling from its branches would whisper to me, "welcome home melissa mary." So beautiful. And Robert even got to enjoy some of Californias natural beauty, when our awesome buddies took him up to San Francisco for the day, and even to Yosemite for the day. Very awesome, considering I had no time and Alex had no patience for 4 hour trips in the car.

And then just like that, it was time to go.
So many things I didn't do, people I didn't see, things I didn't eat. (Not one burrito from Cali!)
I cried all day.

But I went...

Right back to Philly, to an incredible feast of great conversation and even better food! Oh my, Nellys mom makes a BOMB ASS brisket!! You see it was Thanksgiving day, my favorite holiday of the year, and we were living it up Philadelphia Russian-Jewish-Catholic style! Everyone was so nice, and there was like 30 people!! Nelly was the best hostess ever, always on top of what everyone needed. It was such a joy to me, because since I've known Nelly shes talked about the domestic stamina and vivaciousness of the women in her family, and it was an absolute joy to see it live in action. So we had a fabulous Thanksgiving, and for the next 2 days were able to chill out at home saving energy for the weekend..

Saturday was my birthday, and we went out. Oh my did we go out, and it was the BEST birthday I can remember. If you were there, you know it ;-D If you weren't there, well ladies must keep their secrets..

Sunday we went to New York, and although I had to stay in the hotel all night watching Alex, Robert was able to join Nelly and Ben for Nellys birthday night and from what I hear a good time was had by all.

Monday morning came like a kick to the stomach, as today we were leaving. REALLY leaving. Not just flying across the country, but out of the country, back to cold grey germany.

The Application of Appreciation; Paying Attention to the Details
In the coming months I plan to appreciate every smallest facet of the German Hausfrau lifestyle. I'll hold my sunshine in my heart, and let it guide my way.

Burning Expats

2010-09-08T23:25:00.006+02:00

It doesn't take much. A will I suppose is the hardest, but once you acquire your passion and the diligence to follow it, things align I think. And so, Burn night numero dos minus playa, I made the walls dusty with celebration.

After spending awhile thinking about another year NOT on the playa, I realized a fest needed to be created. In 2009, after discovering my pregnancy, I was rather numbly able to let go of my love of Black Rock City in lieu of the health of my child. I think I could have gone, but I didn't KNOW. And after everything that had just transpired I knew it would be nothing short of a miracle for my child to come to fruition. Truth be told, I expected to lose my little seedling, as the self can endure only so much and still be able to bear fruit. But all was well, and the beginning of his life WAS a beginning; new and pure, joyous.

And then, I had really no idea of how much..

Burn night 2010. A night of celebration, fire, old friends and new. I decided to plan a gathering to bring the playa to me, as many wise people have said. I was very nervous, as my party planning skills had been sorely neglected over the past year or two. But the night was fabulous! Candles and fire spinning and talk of burning man a steady thread through various conversations. I am certain this is the first time I had been around so many people who hadn't had a glimpse of playa in their lives, and it was heavenly to me to be able to talk freely, aber manchmal auf deutsch...

And the playa did come to me then; being surrounded by happy people, opening up my space to celebration and friendship. I was running around most of the time I think, getting drinks and welcoming new faces, but that is alot of what BRC means to me. Camp mom is what I am called by some. If you love people feed them, has always been my motto, and doling out my happy pills as freely as I dare.

So we celebrated, and can you believe it I took not 1 picture! Too busy having fun I suppose, and as the wine and... Yes folks, MANGO FLAVORED VODKA!!!! was freely flowing, I reached my max at around midnight and snuck off to sleep. As I look back, it was the only bummer of the night, that I didn't have the stamina to see the dawn. Mama can't handle her liquor as well anymore, for sure!

But I feel truly blessed, and as last year I had the good fortune of spending burn night with someone I love, even 7000 miles away from home I can say again I had love around me. For 13 years I have pined for the desert towards the end of summer, and still I hope next year my yearning can be realized, but here and now, we have a type of complacency.

My new year has dawned, and looking backward, and inward, I see there is much yet to deal with. The loss of my mother preceded my pregnancy by a short 2 months, and I know I have tucked away much of my grief to make way for the new love in my life. But now it is time to take stock, and slowly let the grief surface and let the love and comfort of my family help to gently pull me through the tears. In November I will return to California, where photo albums and momentos wait for me to come and gather them. And the gun, of course, that too waits for me.

And even though I am truly afraid of the process of letting go and realizing, I know I have love on one shoulder and strength on the other, coaching me through. I said earlier I didn't realize how much this new beginning named Alex would bring joy into my life, but every day it becomes a little stronger. Now I feel there is no possible way I could love him more, but I know tomorrow will bring more love, more joy, more life to help staunch the wounds I am soon to reopen.

And this is what I realize, burn night 2010..

I will heal.
Life will grow.
Love will flow.
I am blessed.

Playa Blues

2010-09-01T21:22:00.003+02:00

The dust is not thick upon my skin, but upon my tables.
So I clean the dust

The music is not what keeps me awake, but my 6 month old son.
So at 4am I am yet still awake, as naturally as anything.

My nights are not filled with bright lights and unimaginable art, but I keep bluebies in my sons room so when I put him to bed I can read by the light.
And so I see light and color throughout the night.

My body is yet here, typing away in a dimmly lit room, but my mind...
It dances, to the tune of the desert.

Can you see me there my dusty friend, dancing with you?
I feel you next to me.
Where we can finally take off the headphones...
And dance.

Summertime

2010-08-27T10:09:00.011+02:00

Alas, it has come and gone, and now I sit again staring out at the drizzly grey world. Truthfully it frightens it a bit, sitting alone here through another winter. Last year I had company, and this year I have Alex, but still... I just hope the friendships I have made will sustain my need for sunshine through the next 7 months. And who knows, soon after I could be home.

But the summer was good! Starting in May and ending today, we had temps up to the high 90s for a month or so, and even in the cooler times it stayed in the 70s. And the nights! Oh what a trip looking out into the midnight sky and still seeing light. Didn't help my fire spinning, since spinning in the daylight is only fun after an all nighter (or all weekender as me and my peeps roll), but now that I have my mommy power on staying up past 11 is usually a chore. So now, as we march toward September, I see the darkness take over about 9.

And as I look toward it, I glance back at the fun we have had over the summer. Festivals and picnics, beach clubs and trips to far away cities. Here are somepictures from our adventures...

The 4th of July we had a wonderful picnic in the park, and for the fußbol matches we went to the Oktober next door to us and cheered with all the other Germans as Germany scored a win!

We went to a small town in Germany to the 25th wedding anniversery of some family friends, and wouldn't you know it they roasted a whole pig!!!

We visited the town of Scwerin and its castles and lakes.

We went on a boat tour and to the fair...

Even visited the beach club on the Elbe right near our home!

And had an awesome time creating many pinics in the park.

Overall, a great summer, spent with my boys who I love so dearly. Also with many of our new friends, but to protect their privacy I have included only pictures of the family. I think the winter will come swiftly, but I will be ready from soaking up the California sunshine in November. I hope you all have had fun summers full of warmth and light, and you're all welcome to my home come winter for glüwein by the fire =)

serenity

2010-08-14T08:45:00.004+02:00

God, grant me the serenity, to accept the things I can not change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

As an agnostic pushing atheism, I still hold this verse to be of the utmost importance, even if God is irrelevent. The other day I was travelling through some dark places in my mind, and the verse was uttered by that consiousness that comes in and tries to create content. Like a light it shined on the dark corners and brought into perception the futility of hanging out and musing. The benefit of bringing it up to see; owing it, so to speak.

You see, as much as I have tried to keep this blog from delving back into the past, in order to explore the present honestly, all the aspects must be made clear. Something that recently I have known more than ever. Taking it out and looking at it, instead of hiding it in the corner like the forgotten spoon, hoping no one sees it. So here we are, and I prey for serenity.

But these things I know...
You have 2 chances of a family; the first you have no choice, the second you create to your own desire.
Mistakes, while sometimes painful and full of remorse, are the cornerstones of creating knowledge of yourself, your parenting, and your life.
I can survive whatever I set out to, and it is my choice to be the person I am.

Everyday I am reminded of the nessecity of love, when I look into my sons eyes and see the reflection of a mother. I am reminded of how essential a mothers love is, and the dull ache starts in recognition of my deprivation. But now the cycle begins anew, and I choose to the best mother I can be.

Photogenic

2010-08-08T12:00:00.003+02:00

Thats my little man...

USA Bitches! (aka Passport Abholden)

2010-06-21T11:33:00.016+02:00

When I was pregnant I decided we needed to have a passport for Alex by the time he was 6 months old. So given Northern Europe's crazy cold weather, June seemed to be the best possible time for our first family trip to Berlin to authenticate his American citizenship. Robert has family there, so we booked our train tickets, made a few calls and June 17th traveled to Berlin for a total of 45 hours.

When we arrived in Berlin we were greeted by the absolutely fabulous metro system; similar enough to Hamburgs metro to be understandable, but vast enough to take us anywhere in the city of 4.3 million people. Alex had been awake but quiet most of the 2 hour train ride, and we were lucky enough to have a very lovely woman in the train cab with us who filled us in on different attractions in Berlin. She seemed pleased to practice her English with me, even though she was mainly talking to Robert while I kept Alex entertained.

We arrived at Roberts uncles house and no one answered the bell. We were exhausted and ready to stop traveling for a bit, but I love my husband and after he called his cousin to come let us in he went down to the store and got a few beers to make the 20 minute wait more pleasant. While we waited Robert told me the history of the building; how the apartment had been in his family for 80 years, and even in WW2 when it was bombed all to hell his family returned and helped to rebuild it. A large square block of a building, with about 8 large apartments inside. By midnight we were settling Alex into his little bed and making pleasantries with his 82 year old extremely apologetic uncle, assuring him everything was fine.

The next day was our appointment, and even though Alex woke at 5am we were able to take a little nap in the late morning and be out on the trains again by 9:45. We made our way to the embassy, and found it with little difficulty. Alex however, had been up since we left and taking in everything new around him, so when we sat down to fill out the paperwork he was not a happy little boy. We had to get him his passport photo, but being as tired as he was he fought us the whole way. Poor little guy, and now his passport pic is of him screaming and flailing his arms around. But once we left and he went to sleep the time in the embassy had been forgotten, and the woman who took our paperwork said they were very lenient with baby photos so all will be okay.

Finished with our goal of Americanizing my little man, we headed into the city to catch some sights. We hopped on a bus in the direction of the city center, and wouldn't you know it the bus broke down. But there is always some sunshine if you look, and lo and behold there was a lovely little park right where we were forced to exit the bus. We strolled around a bit and saw some very interesting trees...

Back on a new bus, we headed forward and ended up having lunch in a little Asian place. After satiating ourselves we decided we were beat and headed back to his uncles house for a nap. Around 6 we headed out again, more buses, to see Roberts cousin for dinner. It was rough being out again for Alex and therefore for me as well, and unfortunately we had to leave Robert there because Alex was just not having it. Poor thing was exhausted, and I think being in a new environment made him much more clingy and not able to sleep by himself.

Did I mention that I have some awesome friends? Well good people attract good people, and my girl RT is one of the most attractive bitches there is. So it is no surprise she hooked me up with 2 more awesome people who were Berliners, and took us to a great little Vietnamese restraint. We had awesome grub (never had Vietnamese before this!) and our new friends entertained us with stories of travelling and just really fun personalities. And my little man? Well he woke after we had finished eating and our new friends had a ball with him too! I swear Alex just loves people, and men in particular I think. After about 2 hours we headed out so I could feed Alex... Gotta love breast feeding in the park =)

Our new friends had mentioned there was a festival that day, Christopher Street Day (later I did some research and found that it is the equivalent of Gay Pride back home, created in 1970 after the first uprising against police brutality in NYC https://secure.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/wiki/Christopher_Street_Day ), and since we didn't have to be back at Hauptbahnhof until 7pm there was NO WAY I was missing it. It was fairly easy to find, and after checking out the holocaust memorial and the soviet memorial, we chilled out listening to tunes with some rotweinerdbere. We met some cool teachers from middle America travelling Europe, and Robert had a conversation with them about the differences between our continents while I kept Alex busy. Now when I say 'kept Alex busy' I by no means infer that I am not also being quite entertained. He is such an amazing little guy, and I feel that our well being and state of mind is connected, so I keep on the fun and positivity, streaming it into him.

But eventually even mama couldn't keep his groove on, and we needed to once again return to a park to feed. We chilled on the grass while he fed and played, listening to the house music across the park. It was getting close to 6 now, and I was feeling the music as the party started to heat up. I had never felt my motherhood more than at that moment. I wanted to go dance. I wanted to pretend it was deep playa. I yearned for it, and it was just across the way, heard but too far to see.

Ahhhh......

'But,' I comforted myself, your boy just sent you and email trentmoller is coming in October. You will get to dance.' That's right, October 9th. And November 2nd this little family is heading to the states for some much needed lovin.

We arrived home around 11pm, completely exhausted and stoked to be home. Alex has his passport coming and was able to shine some joy out to Roberts Berlin family. Even though it was rough for all of us, we made it together.

me and alex

2010-05-12T22:04:00.004+02:00

11 weeks and 5 days. Do I feel like a mother yet? No, not really. Unless feeling like a mother is only composed of having a partner in everything, a profound love and joy for this little guy who will one day be a man. And of course always being occupied with thoughts of him; hows he doing, is he hungry, would he be happier if I sang him a song, if I eat this broccoli will it make his tummy hurt? And then during the night, where you're roused from sleep by his cries, you feel terrified something could be bothering your baby.

If that is what it feels like to be a mother I am embraced by motherliness.
But I always thought there would be some shroud that fell over you, declaring you mother and changing your... what? I don't know but I truly thought it would be different.

In any event, Alex is my joy. He is certainly not always joyous, but we get along just fine. We have developed a bit of a routine now that his early weeks are over. Up between 6 and 7 to eat, hang out and coo a bit, watch mommy eat her oatmeal, then around 9 he eats again and as long as everything is cool its naptime. Once again if everything is cool he'll sleep until around 11 or 12, eat again and then we boogie out in our little maroon stroller for some walking action. Sometimes we hit up the grocery store or just go traveling, and sometimes we meet up with friends.

(A note on our new friends.. When I came to Germany to have the baby I was worried about not having any other young english speaking mothers to talk with, but lo and behold Face Book came in and saved the day by directing me to the Hamburg english speaking mothers club, or HMM. Over the past few months I've made some great acquaintances, and even made some friendships I hope to last for a long time. And of course, now Alex has lots of friends we can play with! Lately one of my greatest joy is sitting with my mommy friends and seeing them love their child as I love mine. It fills the heart with gratitude and hope to see all these beautiful people in the making.)

The rest of the night is spent hanging out as a family, and around 10 I can usually get Alex into dreamland, and once I get him comfy in his crib I pass out myself. 3am I wake up to his cries, go to his room and grab him into my arms, lie him down to the side laying position and let him feed himself back to sleep (with myself passing out with him). Thus is our day...

A good day.

The Birth

2010-02-28T01:22:00.005+01:00

So much anticipation, and now one might wonder how did it go? As well as it could have I imagined...

When I found out I was pregnant, I did massive amounts of research to find out what sort of an experience I was in for. The one constant from all forms of media; friends stories, books, documentaries and what-have-you, was that in order to do this you must keep an open mind as to what could happen. In other words, don't get your heart set on one type of birth because it very well could have to be different than what you imagine. So with that in mind, I will tell you that I entered into this hoping that I would be able to birth naturally in a birthing center. I am no martyr, but I really don't like hospitals. So after planning and consideration, I chose a birthing center near to my house and this is where I ended up February 25th at 10am, 9 days over due and drinking a castor oil cocktail given to me by my midwife to induce labor. My pregnancy so far had been very healthy and as comfortable as pregnancy can be, and since I am a big strong girl I anticipated a somewhat quick birth once labor really started. HA!

At 2pm I went back to midwives for her to check me, and sure enough contractions were starting mildly and I was dilated to 1cm. YAY! I thought, finally it is time!
By 3pm my contractions were so strong I was having trouble talking through them, so I called Robert and told him he needed to come home because it was starting. He was stoked, but a bit trepidatious about what was in store for us both. I wasn't worried, because I mean really the show had started so what are ya going to do, right? But he came home, and by 5pm we were at the birthing center in full on labor.

Now for every woman labor is different, but by about 9pm something about the way my midwives were acting was alerting me that something was off. Sure I was screaming my head off every 3 minutes, sure the pain seemed enormous and immense, but isn't that the way it's supposed to be? But still, my midwives were coming in and just watching me with ominous looks, and around 10pm the midwife in charge told me that if I hadn't dilated any farther by 10:3o (at this point I was sitting at about a 3 and a half) she wanted to send me to the hospital. Now I had prepared myself for this, the "change of plan," and trusted the professionals to tell me what I should do. So when 10:30 came around and I was showed no progress, they called the ambulance...

Here we start the next phase, as up until this point I was pretty confident things would go okay as long as I wasn't too much of a big pussy about it, but as they loaded my very huge self onto the gurney all I felt was panic that things were no longer under my bodies control. Really they never were, but once doctors started getting up into my face I felt I would be lost in the hierarchy of the hospital. So I closed my eyes of course, and listened as Robert joked with the very friendly ambulance driver, who told us that he loved my native California, and was planning a visit there in May. I really didn't pay much attention to them though, lost as I was in the fear that my body was failing me somehow and soon I would be given over to not only doctors, but doctors who spoke a different language than I and are world renowned as tough and unsympathetic. Oh my german friends please don't take offence, but this girl is a loooong way from home culture wise. My only comfort was Robert, ever strong and ever present, with me holding my hand and cheering me on. In the birthing center he would walk me when I needed to walk, (every 3 contractions) hold me when I needed to lean, and listen to me as I rambled, so I knew that as long as he was there I at least would not be alone.

So finally they tell me I have to open my eyes, and Robert starts the translation game that permeates the rest of the experience. He tells me I have to roll now, from the gurney to a bed, and there are people all around me talking and talking but one woman stands out because her eyes are so beautiful and blue, and she isn't talking she's pantomiming. She is breathing strangely, and I can see she wants me to mimic her. I do, and all of a sudden that strange screaming in my ears is gone... "Oh", I think, "that must have been me I was hearing." This breathing thing works wonders for me, as I think I was scaring myself into more pain than was really happening. As I brood on this for a moment, mentally chastising myself for not having more control, there are still people running in and out and over and under and I feel like a superstar who really just wants to be left alone. And still, every one is talking talking talking but fuck if I know what is really going down. I'm wheeled into this room, then into that room, and look ya'll there's a party up in misa's vagina and all of germany seems to be invited! Sometime after that, pretty blue eyes starts talking to me again and Robert starts translating. Turns out she wants to give me a PDA, which I thought was like a european epidural but turns out it isn't a full loss of feeling, just a slight numbing. Either way, I discern that it is a needle in your spine and I am TERRIFIED. I start to shake my head no when a contraction hits and the world goes dark, and when I come too I haltingly give my acquiescence. At least maybe I can rest for a minute. Truthfully by this time, about midnight, I was sure I'd be seeing my mom in hell before too long, so whats a little spinal tap gonna hurt.

However there was much to prepare for before this. Forms to sign and blood tests to do and ivs to put in. The only bonus was the hot doctor from Chile who kept coming around and distracting me with his cute accent and promise of relief from the pain, but that story goes south later in my tale. I was ready for it to be over with already, but it wasn't until about 3 am that they started rolling the big heavy equipment in to start the PDA. This was the part I was dreading, and when they had me sitting with my back arched and a handful of germans behind me doing god knows what and saying god knows what else, I was trembling so badly I had to clutch at my care bear doll (love you Dee) as if it was a lifeline keeping me from floating off to hades. I would alternate between screaming at Robert to tell me what the fuck they were saying or doing back there and telling him in a "trying to be calm" voice about me and Dee's date with a few wild boar and a fishing knife back in 2006. Distraction, I thought, would be my salvation here. And it was going okay too, until after sticking 3 needles into my spine already the bitches told Robert that they had to wait for another guy to come and finish the job. WTF YO!?!?!!? So I'm hunched there mumbling about wild boar and desperately trying not to be such a big pussy bitch, and when a half an hour goes by and the last of the guys comes in for the PDA, it was just the right amount of funny to be had when the guy said he was having a hard time because I had "too much skin." Yeah that was awesome, as if he didn't know that was too much ice cream!! Me and Robert had a good stress relieving laugh over that one, and within the next half hour Robert and I both were stretched out on the bed, him relieved to have me seemingly quiet and me feeling less pain and tension then it seems could be possible considering the dozen wires hanging out of various holes in my body...

So we rested, and for about 2 hours all was okay with the world. Around 6:30am they turned off the PDA and said I was finally dilated to almost 10. It was time to push. Now I'm not going to go into detail here because I would really like to forget it so I am sure you don't need to know, but for 2 hours I pushed, screamed and cried. I can remember all sorts of people yelling at me "Weiter weiter weiter!!!" and one english phrase of "it's just his head is too fucking big!!" and I just kept at it, screaming back at them I couldn't do it even as I tried my very hardest just to make it stop. And eventually, slowly, it was done. And all that crap about seeing your newborn and not noticing anything else in the room...? Oh hell no. For 45 freaking minutes my little hot chilean doctor was down at that party I was talking about, stitching "in layers" he said, because I had torn so badly. I kept trying to find out how many stitches he was putting in, but all he could say was "many". I was pissed, and just wanted him to stop so I could feed my son, but he really was a nice guy and apologized to me and said in his broken english "I hope you don't hate me now" when he was finally done.

And then it was quiet. After 6 hours labor in the birthing center, 8 hours labor in the hospital, and 2 hours of pushing, Alexander Michael Frans Gawenda was born. We did it.

A Glimpse

2010-02-18T10:12:00.006+01:00

It's been cold here, not surprisingly, but seeing the pictures of the flowers popping up over my homeland reminds me that I AM in a northern climate. The snow has been more or less steady since the middle of December, coming at least once a week and dusting us with it's dangerous softness. Soft in it's asthetic contrast to the grey sky and stone, dangerous in it's freezing effect on the streets and walkways. Then in the beginning of the week, we had 2 almost full days of sun. Mind you, the snow did not fully melt and as soon as the sun went down, (5 or so) the puddles littering the streets froze back up, but still for a moment I could remember...

In a book I read the main charecter spoke of running through fields, the grass fragrant and meshing through her toes. It was nice, and I took a moment to remember the feeling. Suprisingly, I miss the feel of grass more then the feel of sand. In any event, when I woke this morning to find the fresh layers of snow blanketing the cars in the lot below, I was a bit crestfallen. But then, low and behold there was a sound emanating from the skylight. A peck peck peck sound, that my ears identified as the almost forgotten sound of rain striking hard plastic. It was melodious, and I ventured to the balconey to confirm my suspicions. Yes, that was rain alright, but before my very eyes I watched the drops fade into clumps of schneeregen, then soft white snow. A bit more winter I think...

But the outside glimpse is much colder than when we venture inside, to the vestibule of life that I am now. My passenger has been busy growing, but like his father enjoys lazing around where it's warm and bequem. At 2 days past my due date I have resigned myself to a long wait. Robert put it best last night when he remarked that since the birth of the baby would signify a major jump in responsibility and overall alteration of our life now, he was happy to wait until the little one was ready. I can certainly agree, however I find myself anxious about his health, the birth, and whether or not when he comes I will prove to be a better mother than I was a daughter or sister. I am comforted however, by the certainty that this line of thought is normal and even to be expected. So we wait; I read, write, and try to walk at least a half hour every day.

But between the outside world and inside of me where my child grows, I have a joy that keeps me feeling the sunshine of life. That wonderful invention, the telephone, has allowed me to ride to parties with my bitches, sit around the bar and enjoy a cold beer and a case of the giggles, experience the after party cuddles, and feel myself a part of something grand and loving. The internet, with it's instant acquiescence to our demands, gives me images of beaches and flowers and real-time glances of what I know as home. I say the inventions because without them I would be missing this visual and audible comfort and joy, but the sunshine comes from the love expressed by taking the time to send them, the time to dial the 16mf numbers to call here.

And the love is what creates the sunshine.

And like the african wood sorrel, life sustains itself only in the promise of the sun...

Waiting

2010-02-02T17:50:00.007+01:00

My husband said the greatest line to me the other day. We were discussing the big news around here, the baby, and how our lives are to be changed. I could not have ever understood how big of news this would be until now, until your entire being is awaiting the arrival of your newborn child. So many questions; from health and wellness to personality and temperment to how YOU will be physically after birth has taken you and tested how tough you are. I imagine after this first child it won't feel so all encompassing, so dramatic as a certain good friend would say, but the waiting and not knowing is a very enveloping experience for sure.

And so Robert and I are discussing the child, the family we are about to create, and he says to me, "But now you are the tree, not just the branch." What a remarkable thing to envision. All your life you are a branch, holding onto a family that could be diseased, barely clinging to life. And then, from out of seemingly nowhere, you are given the chance to become your own tree. Create your own base. Being who I am I believe that we can influence and create ourselves and many facets of our personality. So if you have worked hard to create goodness and love, kindness and strength, compassion and forgiveness in yourself, then you can theoretically create a base tree that also exhibits and teaches those traits to the next generation. We are creating the world, so I imagine it would be a good thing to pay attention.

As I am constantly forced to pay attention to my big ole belly. I tell ya, it's amazing how little we pay attention to our bodies when they are healthy and at their peak. Pregnancy has taught me that my body is definitely a vessel. My temple, if you'd like to be spiritual about it. I have high hopes for the state of my personal temple once this is over... =)

And so now I geek out, checking out pictures of baby bellies online and waiting...

Mango vodka

2009-12-24T05:13:00.005+01:00

I had a nice blog post planned out for you today. Spent my morning chores and train rides rough drafting it. But as they say, things tend to get in the way of even the finest of plans..

I come to you now 5:30 am our time, awakened by a familiar dream landscape that never fails to interrupt sleep. The dream is always in my mothers home circa 1989, in Sacramento CA. Not a very nice place if you ask me, but then we were pretty ghetto. Not in the direct ghetto, but a trailer park directly across the freeway tracks from ghetto. The park was full of retirees and peppered with young families and attached to the park was a kindergarten and an elementary school. Mom figured as long as I stayed within the magic line of school and park I would be safe. Being the little adventurer I am, I ended up outside the lines often enough, but only farther than I could see the line once. I was 9 then, and took off on my bicycle with my purple banana seat seeking adventure. The normal hilly range I would jump my bike was too droll, the field outside the south end of the park where I would hunt frogs and abandoned treasures was too open; I wanted FUN. So I picked a direction and went, trusting myself to find my way back. (For anyone in the know I was living in Del Paso Heights, where a little white girl has no business, but I digress..) 4 hours later, crying and hopelessly relieved to see my familiar lines again, I finally walked my bike back into the park.

I would live there intermittently, and can remember celebrating my 8th birthday there but no others. Problem is, I can't remember celebrating my birthday again until I was 12 and that was in Reno, so who knows where that 4 years in between went. I could have been in Sac with my mom, or in San Jose with my dad, but I can only specifically remember being taken to San Jose once and being there for about a year maybe. A gruesome experience if ever there was one. I guess I was 9 or so because I was in the 4ourth grade. If you can believe it I was a girl scout, cookie selling member and all. I wasn't very good at it, (would sometimes forget to turn in my fund raiser orders because I was too busy organizing street hockey games) but still I went to the meetings and ended up being friends with the daughter of our scout leader. Ariel was her name, and we used to fry tortillas in butter and salt and it was the best thing ever!!

Well, I don't know what parents saw when they looked at me, but I know it wasn't a happy healthy little girl. Many adults, especially the mothers of the girls I would know, would have a look in their eye when they looked at me that I can now recognize as fear, anger, and extreme indecision.

One particularly sunny Saturday morning I was greeted with ambiguous news; my mother had finally decided to start talking to me again (super duper yay!!) but only to tell me she was leaving for Reno, and would be back on Monday (super sad face). She had locked me in my room for the past 2 weeks, refusing to talk to me and leaving my meals outside my door for lying to her about stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. But you know I always was an optimist, so I was happy and kissed her and wished her a good time, grabbed my key and my cabbage patch doll and headed to the park. After sliding little Amanda the red headed cabbage patch doll down the slide a few times I walked over to Ariels house to see if she wanted to play.

The next thing I can recall Ariel and I were playing in her room and her mom, Mrs. girl scout leader, comes in and says she's been calling my house but no one is there. Where was my mother? she wanted to know. Oh boy, I knew this game and it was a precariously dangerous one, soon I would see just how dangerous.

I told her she was shopping, but when asked when mom would be home I couldn't out right lie (mind you I had just been ignored for 2 weeks straight for lying and I always did learn well) so I said I didn't know. That woman knew something was up, and asked me for my dads number. I did lie then and said I didn't know it, but she was a clever one and called information. Being the scout leader, she knew my dad was in San Jose and since I had my fathers last name it was just a phone call to retrieve his digits.

Ever heard the expression "daddys little girl"? Well that was me. By some miraculous power I always knew one day my dad would save me, even if he was the one I needed to be saved from. So when the scout leader called and she put me on the phone with him I couldn't lie when he asked me where she was. And of course the scout leader heard me and the next thing I know she is on the phone with him saying she'll have Child Protective Services here within 3 hours if he doesn't come and pick me up.

Needless to say my dad picked me up that day, and I tell you it was like going from the cold and desolation of Siberia to the fires and violence of hell. Yes I am dramatically verbose here, but yo I'm just keeping it real.. Another time maybe we'll go into that tale, but now I just wanted to tell you about the home that lies in my sleeping mind. In my dreams I go there, or sometimes my friends live there, or sometimes I'm looking for her.

Always it seems I'm looking for her. And I wake up, and there's always a few seconds to a few minutes where I just seem to be awake.

~Oh maybe that was just my 8 months pregnant "need to pee" wake up. Maybe that crazy dream in the house in sac won't effect me this time. You know it's just a house, no big deal. So you're dreaming a couple of your friends are living there about to have a baby and you're at her baby shower...? I'm sure it's just coinsidence. They just happen to find your moms shoulder holster for her gun and seem to be interested in using it....? No big deal, lets just pee and go back to bed....~

And then it comes crashing in and I am here at the computer. I've always had dreams, of all sorts and all intensities. I know what nightmares are. But I thought dreams were supposed to not be real. Why should I have a seemingly light dream and only have it transcend itself into a fitfull nightmare after I wake? Really, it's not fair. Reality is not supposed to be this difficult. Right?

Maybe now I'll try to sleep more, or even better go wake Robert up and make him watch some german home shopping network with me; it's really funny shit guys... =) The important thing is to find whatever it is that gets you through today, since being pregnant means no 3 Olives Mango flavored vodka for me.

Thanks for listening

Made it..

2009-11-27T14:38:00.002+01:00

My mom told me once that you weren't really a person until you were 30.
I always wondered if when I turned 30 she would finally see me as a person. Not a doll or something broken, but a real live person she could be proud of. Pretty ironic that I'll never know, but it's possible that even she didn't understand the ambiguosness of her statement.

Perhaps being a real person means that you no longer need someone to tell you that you are doing right. Perhaps being a real person is the realization that you already know, and all you need is to stop and listen to that voice which guides you.

What is right for you, will carry your spirit.

Roberts mom says to me, "As long as I can look in the mirror every night and say I have hurt no one, I have helped who I could and I was the best person I could be, I will be satisfied in my heart."

Growing up, could just mean growing to know and trust yourself.

So here I am at 30. Pregnant, about to be married and moving into a gorgeous new house that I could theoretically spend the next 3 -5 years.

Where I expected I would be? Not a chance.
Where I am happy and proud to be? Absolutely.

The transitions over the past year have been immense, ranking with complexity and horror with my very early years. But the growth has been exponential, raising me over myself in a cyclone of emotions and perceptions that leave me miles away from the person I have always known myself to be. In the process, I feel I have been shown a closer look at myself and the knowledge of the self that I would like to become. Even with the little I have learned, I feel grateful for the chance to have been given this gift.

And I will take that, what I have seen and learned, and apply it to the gift I have been given in Alex. My son who I will soon meet. Please visualize a healthy happy birth, with all his fingers and toes and neurons intact.

A week in, a week out.

2009-09-19T19:19:00.002+02:00

Going on 7 days back in Deutschland today. Quite an experience, but then this sort of thing always is. I was uncertain how I would react to the environment this time around. The first time I came, magic and wonder at the new compelling surroundings, full of the challenges of the language and culture and the promising blossom of new love. With my return in March after my moms suicide, angst and anxiety, a firm unwillingness to put my feet on the ground for fear the ground would again be pulled from under me. And now, 5 months pregnant. Guess you can't say I'm ever too boring, eh?

Transitioning has been a little shaky; I must say if Robert were not completely infatuated with me he would have thrown my butt out by now for instability and overall bitchiness. As it is though, he listens to every complaint, tries to dry every tear, gives me space when I want to sit and read for hours, and jokes and laughs with me when he can see I'm coming around. The familiar fear of getting stuck is as always pervasive, however I find it hard to believe Robert, through the actions he displays, would ever confine me to unhappiness.

So I'm getting back some routine, have joined an english speaking mothers club here in Hamburg (first meeting is Tuesday) and am looking forward to the beauty of winter while relishing the warmth of late summer in tree covered Germany. I have gone to one prenatal appointment, which Roberts sister in law set up, and it did not go well. Alot of the reason is probably because english was not spoken in the clinic and I was sketched out by this; there are things they do in these appointments that you want them to tell you first. Also they kept trying to get me to give a blood sample, which I adamantly refused on 2 separate occasions after giving them all the blood test and check up info I had been given from my doctors in Santa Cruz. I will find a good english speaking doctor from the english mothers club on Tuesday. At the appointment they did tell me my little tyke will probably be a boy, and that he is super healthy (along with mama) and growing just as much as he should.

Sometimes, I wake in the middle of the night and look around me and it hits me: I'm in Germany, I'm pregnant, I'm getting married. Where did this come from? Life is a roller coaster it seems, and all you can do is hold on for the ride. Oh yeah, and make sure you have lots of good books on hand for tips and pleasure reading sabbatical.

Burn night 2009

2009-09-06T12:33:00.002+02:00

It's that time my friends... Happy new year.

Every year for over a decade, I have dedicated myself to this night to reflect, ponder, amend, and accept. Every year, my life for the year previous has come through to me in a wash of lessons and triumphs. Watching the fires, seeing the year burnt away in a mandala of emotions, I would sit as the sun rose and write my conclusions, my fears and my aspirations. Well, we have a bit to talk about, don't we?

=)

Grieving child to expectant mother. The darkness passed, and in it's way came this tiny growing being. What a fucking trip that was. Can you imagine? I returned to CA so afraid; losing my mother left me feeling the whole world was going to up and disappear. I fought it with alcohol, (not very successfully if I might add) and was then told very bluntly by the powers that be that this was not going to fly. No better reason on the planet to give up your habits for your growing child. Making whole people is much easier than fixing broken people, I always say.

But these hormones, stopping partying like a flick of the wrist, and my fear held me in a state of what I can only refer to as neurosis. Or crazy lady. Yeah in some instances crazy lady definitely fit better. I've always been a touch.... Well, if you know me you get it, but this was new and almost overpowering.

And yet, the people who by all rights should have turned their backs still are there. Lending a shoulder, sometimes even carrying me. All this seemed surreal to me, but tonight in my reflection I see the picture clear as day. People are beautiful, wonderful and complex creatures. I spent much of my life trying to get close to people, enjoy their personalities and discover new elements of beauty, and chaos, that they radiate. Even through the turmoil, love is never banished or refused.

Today, 3:52am Sunday September 6th, I want to tell you I love you. I want to tell you that I will do everything in my power to raise this child with the compassion and hope and love that you all have given me. I promise to you that I will not forget the kindnesses you have shown me, and I will pass it on down, so someone else can feel and spread this lifeline of human relationship. If you are reading this, then I am talking to you, and this is my word.

My mother used to tell me when I was a little girl that you weren't a person until you were 30, and I always felt slighted in her eyes (given I was like 8 when this started and 30 seemed IMPOSSIBLY far away!). But now I see how this is where the learning begins in earnest. This is where my life goes on a new path. Everything up until now was to help prepare me for this journey.

Happy burning loves, may ths year be the best yet..

2009-05-16T22:23:00.002+02:00

From travel to transition.

My heart flys to the beach,
over the oceans and land of strife.

When I wake, it is there I go.
Before I sleep, my mind goes ashore.

Every sight and every verse, I take back to my churning sea.
and the responses are recorded inside of me.

Like a shadow I hover, one foot in and one foot out.
And then the magic takes me, and for a moment I am free.
Soaring, upon the waves that crash and swell. This is my sweetest hour.

The paths to the ocean,

How I am with you always.

10 of Swords; End of an era

2009-04-23T10:45:00.010+02:00

Recently in this blog it has seemed that all the corners were wrought with shadows, and that all the shadows were impenetrable. But this is a world of duality: yin and yang, positive and negative, the darkness AND the light. And I being, no more or less than a creature of man, also have those fluctuations of mind and intent.

The 10 of swords displays this perfectly, as even with the swords protruding from his back, he is facing a sky that is beginning to clear. A hopeful ray of light in the distance and coming closer. Not only that, but being the last of the swords, the number of 10, we can realize that the next phase is soon at hand. Whether you disdain, believe or find humorous the tarot, surely all images have something from which we can learn. No faith required

So now here is a piece of my sunshine. During the day I have been lucky enough to have the sun shining and the air warm, so many afternoons I spend on my balcony, planting or reading or enjoying a cocktail. There are flowers everywhere in this city now, and I feel very lucky indeed to experience a true spring. So I have started planting my own... =)

The 10 of swords is peeking through.

Proof he's always watching you.
Or me.

Through the pitch the laughter touched my ears,
ringing clean and more real than my cares.

My adult eyes show me now just the when why and how,
we see through the murk into the air, swept into reality from despair.

Realness is relative, and reality is circumspect.
And here we sit amidst it all willing ourselves not to fall.

But not only us, as we teeter on the brink.
The wings of compassion carry us up, above it all and over the sea.

Showing us we are but a part, and never alone.
Love Melissa.

This is for all of you, you know who you are, who have taken the time through words or deeds to remind me to look for the sunshine.

Dreams

2009-04-20T23:55:00.002+02:00

The Dreams, they eat at me.

Days are listless, giving myself small tasks and wondering why it takes so much energy to get through them. Staring out the windows wondering when I'll have the strength to leave the barriers of my house.

Of my self.
Of my guilt; the pain therein.

And then blessed sweet sleep takes me, as I force it with my mind. And the dreams...
She calls out to me.
"Honey, I need you to come help me."

Tonight I followed her through a house. She was thin and frail, her hair falling out in places. As they told me she looked when she stopped waiting. Smoking a ciggerette and wearing bootcut blue jeans and a harley shirt. Tough looking, as always.

I never did.

Allergies

2009-04-15T08:01:00.002+02:00

Yesterday you could find me,
playing and laughing by the sea.
Teasing the waves and hunting for shells,
with joy in my heart and love all around.
Or maybe with my friends, the loves of my life,
Dancing and prancing and free of any strife.
I would giggle and smile, radiating my passions,
and even when uncertain I always made corrections.

Then the world came down and swallowed me up,
and instead of being free my heart has closed up.
Instead of smiles my eyes are filled with fear,
and nothing seems to break the grip that holds me here.
My mind has stopped dead in its tracks,
to fill my heart with a void that I can not retract.

My voice once strong has become a whimper,
my grip once firm, now flacid and slipping under.
My mind once sound, and bright as the sun,
now dark and solitary, permitting no one.
My safety zones destroyed, my confidence crushed,
my pain overwhelming and threatening death.

Even my skin has broken out in hives,
ugly red spots personifying my crys.
And now it seems too obvious to me,
especially since I can't eat or sleep....

I am allergic to saddness.

Must Continue

2009-04-14T11:24:00.003+02:00

Finally, my courage matched my position and I listened.
For the first time in almost a month, I found myself alone, with no one here to listen to her last words. Our last moment. I'm sorry to whoever it was that made me promise not to listen to it alone, but it was an empty promise anyway. I am already dangerously close to trying the patience of those that I love, and no one should have to deal with this but the guilty.

She didn't say "oh God", she said "OW!".

Then you can hear Terry in the background saying,

"Now I told you not to do that."

Sleep

2009-04-06T03:40:00.002+02:00

I've just realized that it's almost impossible to sleep without exhastion or drunkeness. Lucky for me I have to leave for Amsterdam in an hour anyway, and my hour of restless sleep will probably be made up for on the 5 hour train ride. I woke with the strangest mantra in my head...

All or nothing; stop the solution.

I feel like Ed Norton in Fight Club, wanting to email all my friends but knowing it's really just crazy talk. I look forward to all the hash I'll imbibe in, and the peacefulness of dreams that could ensue. Perhaps I can find some Valerian in this European land I now find myself in. Maybe I'll stop waking Robert up with my sleep talk.

It's funny where I am now. I always felt like the one in control, with the plan and even if not a plan than with the posi-tivi-tae to stop bullets. Where did you go? Perhaps I dropped it somewhere in all this international flying. Maybe when I get back from Holland the airline will call me up.. "Excuse me miss, but did you drop your life flow?" "Why yes, and I do feel a bit odd without it. Do you use fed ex?"

Not used to feeling so lost.

faces of acceptence

2009-03-31T09:31:00.014+02:00

Refuge

Rest

Love

Affection

Distraction

Greif

Support

Duality

Release

Looking forward

The Whole Truth: Part 1

2009-03-23T23:38:00.003+01:00

I've started this blog a few times over the past couple of days, but only miniscule ramblings seem to ever appear on the screen, so I'm going to talk to you now, because I think this is important.

Normally, I like to fill you in on my german adventures, the things I'm greatful for and the things that irritate me.... I like to keep it simple and low key. Fun.

Today this will not be like that. Today I am going to show you my precious parts, my scary parts. The parts that I can't seem to bring myself to look at alone. The parts that make me think I need to do this alone. I hope you're ready....

I'm smoking way too much. And I keep losing things; my chapstick, my old phone with all my phone numbers, my drivers lisence. I think I miss my chapstick the most. And then it hits...Oh yeah, she's dead.

Arizona was a shithole. I'm covered in big ugly blisters where the sun made an acid mess of my hands. I just keep hoping it isn't some strange disease I picked up when I was going through her things. I tossed them away. Files and files and boxes and boxes, saved so meticulously to just be thrown haphazardly into the trash can. I realized that she used the filing as a way of keeping herself in the world. She had notebooks of receipts, notebooks full of notebooks of books (one was an Oprah "how to live your life" or some silly shit like that), full of plans for trips and cruises. As if she could have ever done that. I think in the last year she was so high she just needed something low key to keep her busy, but she really has saved shit forever. Once when I was 15 she sent me alot of it, said she was going to kill herself and she wanted to make sure I had it. I wonder if I felt different then than I do now. Those days were really a blur anyway.

Not now though. I realize what is happening here is that with her death I must face her life. My life. And I think maybe that is what I'm so afraid of. Because really, she's dead. Nothing can stop that. I had a friend say to me the other night, "Are you really that broken up about it?". Huh? Wait, what? Am I being a big pussy here?

She's cowering on the floor. She knows there is nothing left. She's crying, but now the tears stop because she thinks shes made peace with it. She thinks she'll go tell Terry, as she's coming back from the bathroom. I have no idea what he said, but it must not have been enough for her, because as she takes her place back on the floor, she picks up the phone and calls 911. She tells them. They listen. They hear the gunshot. Before the connection is broken, she says... "Oh god". When they arrive she is still cowering, but she's no longer breathing, no longer moving.

And good fucking Christ she better not be hurting anymore.

A gut shot. Everyone knows that they hurt the worst. Any normal person knows if you must kill yourself the number one answer is pills, but if all you have is a 35mm you go for the fucking HEAD!!!! Right!!!??? I mean, why feel it?

And I feel her there, so dark. Oh god it's so real. I've lived through some times that I really probably should have succumbed to fear and maddness and come through to the other side of the sunshine. But I think of her there so alone and its so fucking real. So big. I will have the tape of the 911 call soon. I'll listen. Probably a few times. Get that shit in my brain cause thats the last thing she said. Before my logic returned I thought about having one of my DJ friends sample it. I realize now that is not something you ask of anyone. Ever really.

Everyday it gets a little clearer for me though.

A little secret... My mother shot herself in the stomach on March 9th 2009. On March 7th, while I was cleaning my house, I completely broke down in tears. I felt something was very wrong with my mother. I sent her a letter when I moved to Germany telling her what was up, and I hadn't heard back, but I knew I had her phone number in a letter so I grabbed it and called like 3 times. All 3 times it said the number was disconnected, so I gave up. I was certain she was dead. That night I read an entire book, trying to get out of my thoughts because I knew I could do nothing about how I was feeling. The next morning I appologized to Robert for being so solitary. I told him I thought my mother was dead, but I didn't want to talk about it and I was only telling him so he wouldn't think I was upset. I wrote her a letter. I still have it in my backpack.

It was an okay day. I was downtrodden, but through school and friends I was able to smile a little and pay attention to the world around me. That night I called my dad, and we bullshitted for a while about this and that, and then I told him I thought she was dead. He told me...
"Melissa. She abandoned you. More times than you even know she walked out on you and left you to the mercy of a crazy bitch who hated you and an old drunk. If she is dead, she has found peace, but regardless you should not worry yourself. Continue doing what you're doing and trust Vikki to do what she needs to do for herself."

He was right, and I can remember many ugly nights of her and her men. Drunk, high. Sensless. I remember the shootouts, the beatings, the horrid men. I remember the pain of it all, but bigger than life was the rejection and ultimate aloneless. My step mother told me once that if your mother doesn't love you no one ever will. She thought I was fucked. Funny how wrong she was.

But I digress (story of my world right now).

The next evening, I was chilling with Robert on the couch watching Southpark. A little drunk. I got an email from my dad. "Call me imediately."

"Well girl, this is a little creepy...."

Really rad pictures of Hamburg...

2009-03-08T04:29:00.004+01:00

Updates and introspections...

2009-01-24T17:57:00.003+01:00

Today I have been here for almost 3 months.
And yet, like Kelly said it feels like I left my California eons ago. Arriving into a place of wonder and awe for a person such as myself. And as I stepped into this place, it was like a slap, or rather a
loving nudge, that made me all of a sudden realize that I wanted to know myself. That I needed to know this person, Melissa Mary. It's funny to realize that there is so much more to you and what your world
is than you ever knew. Like a thunder clap I realized that it was my friends; my beautiful, wonderful, loving friends. My pain in the ass
friends. My "How could I have ever known friendship before you" friends, that really showed me how to look around the world without fear of persecution, and with the wonder that gives me such joy.

Really, I just realized how lucky I am to have been given a chance at this, because it really has been wonderful. After I arrived I stayed inside for a good month; having a cold, getting to know Robert
and the German people in the area, and really feeling my homesickness in my heart. You people at home are my life, my family and my loves, and learning to live without you has not been easy. But after
that month I started a little language school called Tandem where the classes are from 2 to 5 people in various levels of mainly German courses, and it gave me a chance to start going out and not feel so sad
all the time. I also met my first friends. Karina is 23 and from
Russia, and shes pretty amazing. Let me tell you, don't fuck with the russians man cause they'll show you
down! But also the most caring of friends. Kind of figured as much after meeting Nelly, since that also describes her perfectly, but now it is confirmed. Go Russia!

So jetzt ich spreche ein bischon duetsch, und manchmal spreche mit die leute okay. Ich bin nicht so gut, aber ich lernen. Then at the beginning of the year we moved into a new apartment, and so I've
been pretty busy with school and trying to put the house together. We still don't have phone or internet so I'm dying to call some of my peeps back home, but hopefully soon we'll have it installed sooner
rather than later. Today
I feel pretty confident about loving my home, (I have pictures of everybody all over the place, and a beautiful view of trees and sky all around the flat)
so we're having our first little house party. Karina is coming over
with her German boyfriend and we're going to drink vodka straight out of Moscow. I'm stoked on it, and feel that it represents a success party. Sucess for America and Obama. Success for having the glück to
be here, since I got my visa last week and am legal here for the whole year I'll be studying German. Success for growing and success for loving.

Because Thursday I finally caught up with my love. Last week I was out with some friends after school for lunch, and on my way home ran into a group of.... fire spinners.
My breath caught in my throat as I watched them spin and dance. I was completely overwhelmed by my luck, and didn't hesitate to go up to them with my shitty german and introduce myself while the
smiles threatened to grin right off of me. I explained that I was from the USA, and please please could I come practice with them. All of a sudden I felt the passion almost forgotten, and the guys
spinning were stoked so we exchanged numbers. So Thursday, a week from when I met them, I showed up at the same place with my poi and fuel and a bucket, and did my very first german
spin. Karina and a
friend Nicole from London/South Africa watched and took pictures as I lept around a Hamburg village complex. It was rad, but I didn't have alot of time because I had to meet Robert at a birthday party
in center city, so I hoped a train and went and spun for some dudes birthday party. Needless to say I missed school the next day because ich trinke viel viel mal apfel wein!

So now it's all about learning. Learning Deutsch, learning culture, learning about myself and my place in the world. Thank you for being there with me on this. All of you who read here and send me notes.
I keep you with me. Even Mike, I think of you too sometimes, and here there is a shoe store called Deichman, so often I remember how fun it was to mess with your name =)
Yes I keep you all with me, and thank you for being there and giving me lessons along the way.

You know you all want to come visit, so get your butts to Europe, yo!

Hope

2009-01-20T23:37:00.003+01:00

Inauguration

Emancipation

From a life of servitude to a life of higher choice.
The countries faith renewed from the outpouring of collective hope
Strengthened by the tears of joy, shed like the countless bodies flayed into the sea.
Empowered with righteousness restored,
by the firm words of the lone slave.

The first slave

The proud slave

God; Goddess; Buddah; Allah; Yaweh; Jehovah; Kirshna; ....

Father

Bless us in the days to come,
The days America regains its freedom.

I watched the inauguration today after school, and felt a profound sense of pride and patriotism for our great nation. Hurrah America!
(Picture taken in the woods not far from where I live in Hamburg, Germany)
I also got my student visa today.... I'm legal =)

The Baltic Sea

2008-12-27T14:18:00.012+01:00

Well, December has been quite a busy and interesting adventure for this young lady. In the beginning of the month Robert and I went with some of his friends to Zingst, which is a little beach town on the Baltic Sea on the northern tip of Germany right next to Poland. The town was very cute, but boarded up like a frigid spinster. It had the look of a place that could come to life, but with the extreme cold there was hardly a thing open.... Except of course for the Gluwein stands! =D

We arrived in Zingst Saturday afternoon after travelling about 3 hours, and since in this part of the world dusk descends around 4pm, we had little time to explore outside. The hotel was nice though, and I believe the weather gods felt my tears because Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny. Our little group travelled down to the beach and "seebruke" (pier), where there were sculptures and through the wind we were able to feel the sun on our ( mostly covered) faces.

After strolling up and down the beach, freezing my cheeks off but being grateful for the light, we had some gluwein at the town center and retired to our rooms to rest. After Robert took a short nap and I got some homework done, we bundled up and went out into the dark evening to get some walking in. after about 10 minute stroll we found what seemed to be a tropical bar, complete with palm trees, "reggae night" and surf boards on the wall. After asking a few questions, I learned that during the summer Zingst was quite the place to be, with the temperatures reaching into the 90's and the water temperature over 70 degrees! The club had an outdoor area where bands played in the warmer months, and even though it was deserted for the moment it wouldn't be long before the crowds would come piling in from all over Deutschland. Well for me it feels like ages before summer will come, but realistically there are only another 4 months of dark and cold, then the sun will shine up to 17 hours a day and I'll be warm and toasty again!

Weihnachtmarkt

2008-12-11T16:14:00.009+01:00

Germany loves Christmas.

Possibly, because Christmas brings warmth, food, family and liquor to a cold cold cold time of year. Throughout the city of Hamburg there are numerous outdoor markets erected in the beginning of December, and filled to the brim with different crafts and yummy treats. On my various visits to the many different markets, I have seen candles (which made me really sad because I still can't find wax anywhere in this blasted country), jewlery, clothing, baked goods, hand carved wooden stuff, Christmas ornaments, leather goods glass goods and tons of useless Christmas junk. Then of course there is food: breads, jams, waffles, pizza, fresh and fried fish, sausage like you wouldn't believe, potatoes cooked in every imaginable way, chocolate, candies nuts, pastries and these absolutely divine little mini begniets that I will no longer let myself eat because they are WAY too sinful, and course more sausage. But, the most frequented, popular and crowded place at these markets are the booze stands

.

The most popular drink here is gluwein, which is a hot spiced wine, usually red, and for an extra .50 euros they'll put a shot of armeretto or rum in for you. At a market I went to yesterday they had jagermeister as well, but that was the first out of 4 that I have seen that offered. They also offer beer, hot chocolate, other types of hot spiced wines and coffee. In some places they will make the gluwein right in front of you, but in others the drinks are premade and kept in barrels. The lines can be outrageously long, and a cup of gluwein "mit schass" (with a shot) is about 3 euros. you will find people here of all ages, at all times of the day, drinking and laughing and enjoying their
liquored warmth.

Snow

2008-11-21T09:13:00.006+01:00

That's right folks, Robert woke me up at 7am this morning to snow snow and more snow! There were big fat juicy flakes tumbling down from the heavens, to cover my robed hand in a miracle of white. I wasn't too surprised though, as yesterday I found myself in downtown Hamburg, just wandering about, as a thunder and lightening hail storm trapped myself and all my fellow hamburgers (yes, that's what they're called) in the central train station. It was super funny, with people screaming and getting all excited as if it were the apocalypse. I was very excited, and wet from the bottom of my jacket to the bottom of my shoes, and even though the hail only lasted about 10 minutes it took me over an hour to get any semblance of dryness back to my clothes. So today, I think I will find my way back to downtown and see if I can't tempt another storm into being.... =)

PS. Anyone who would like to check out all my Hamburg photos can copy and paste

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=49342&l=ef3c6&id=604647874

Northern Grey

2008-11-17T09:45:00.000+01:00

Being from the sunny, beautiful, warm and famously bright and unchanging land of California, I knew I was in for a cold shock when I decided to come to Germany and scope the place out. I knew also from books that I would see mostly grey, and feel mostly rain upon my skin. (Quick double double thanks to Gladys and Deanna for the jackets and Arti for the boots and socks; I'd be miserable without them, you guys rock!) What I did not expect was the beauty inherent of this cold grey landscape. And while the sky is grey, ominously at times, the foliage ever present underneath that sky is always a million shades of color. Green grasses, green yellow red and brown leaves on trees, every shade of green covering the trunks of the seemingly ancient trees. This land is vibrant with color, even now as winter descends. And in the morning as I make coffee, I gaze through the 4'x4' window that looks up into the sky and can see the clouds hurtling past my small space in this wildly alive land, as if they have some very important appointment they must keep to. The above picture was taken at the train station yesterday. At 2:45pm it was sunny and bright, at 3:05 this beautiful rainbow showered us with it's light, and by 3:15pm the rain was pelting the ground once more. Never missing a beat, the Germans I was surrounded by kept right on keeping on, seemingly not noticing hell was pouring down at us. It was fabulous.

Stillness

2008-11-12T14:12:00.001+01:00

This IS a blog about adventures, specifically German adventures, however I must digress (or transcend if you will) into the realms of the mind for a moment. You see, this adventure has given me an opportunity that I have not been given since 1999 when I moved temporarily to OR. I have been forced to be still. Those of you who have known me over the past 2 years have known me to be vivacious, social, outgoing and spoken, and always always busy.

And now....
Silence.

Throughout the day (partly from the devilish cold I contracted a week ago) I read, do yoga, email, plan and cook meals, and stare out into the gray northern sky. Where the word "boredom" sits, I know "peace" should reside. Why am I so fluttery? Take away my distractions, what do I find? Someone who can't sit still? Someone who even now has a (psychosomatic?) pain in my tailbone that could only possibly be from lack of dancing. Lack of sowing my social seeds into the world around me. Too much sitting in contemplation? Andy always told me I needed to learn to be still, and I suppose this is the crash course. I have never understood how one could be content doing nothing, and now I am shown full force what doing nothing is, and it frightens me in it's simplistic complexity.
I can do something, but how do I do nothing?

I made a neat quote today,
"When life seems easy, you're probably not doing it right."

Schwein und Bier

2008-11-07T15:34:00.000+01:00

When I came here, everyone told me I was in for a culinary treat; ie. the best beer and sausage I would ever know. Ever. This did not, however, prepare me for the plethora of different pork delicacies and blissful varieties of the drink of the Gods. Not being too much of a pork fan, I have decided that in order to fully appreciate this city of tummy indulgences, I would try each and every dish presented me. Here is a plate of ham steak with Burgunderschinken and fried potatoes, along with many pints of Groeninger. You can see my plate has the empty ketchup packages on it, which my dining partner scoffed at for my American ruin of perfectly edible potatoes. I did not, however, tell him right back that mustard does not need to go on everything. The meal was delicious and the Burgunderschinken you simply must try if ever given the opportunity. It has quite a tough skin on it, but don't give up it tastes wonderful. So far I have followed my plan, and eaten everything offered to me except for the boiled weird ass chicken feet that we procured at a Chinese restaurant. To properly praise my dining partner, he ate it all. Even though his face did very strange things.

Guten Apetit!

Transitions

2008-11-05T13:00:00.000+01:00

It took me 23 hours to get from my beautiful California to the land of the Duetsch, and throughout my journey I visited places in my mind I did not know existed. Page after page I wrote in longhand describing my emotions of fear, love, gratitude and sorrow. I flew over the ocean knowing I was about to change myself forever. I wrote my story of transition expecting to post it here, but after consideration I have decided only to highlight.

The physical sensations of flying played very neatly along with my emotional turbulance this transition has brought; an almost orgasmic speed and takeoff into the uncertainty of flying high into the unknown, the exhilaration of new adventures vying with the paralyzing fear of crashing into a firey mess.

Throughout it all, the love I have tried to never take for granted was my pillow, cradling my tired mind into the abyss. All of you... My mentors who provided me with the essential warmth of jackets and socks. My partners in parties who supplied me with booze money for the trip. My friends, from the east to the west who encouraged me with love and kindness and greatest of all faith, that I could indeed make this happen. All of you, I love. I am grateful. I am humbled. And know that all I do now is dedicated to you who spurred me on.