The Auslaenderamt cometh...

In two days, I have to make the scary journey to the Auslaenderamt (foreigners office) to get my residence permit renewed. This actually should be pretty straightforward, but I'm totally terrified that 1) I will forget some vitally important document or 2) the the "beamter" (civil server) processing my request will be in a bad mood. Both of these things could jeopardize the whole process! Normally, this wouldn't be such a big deal, but I'm flying to the US on Saturday, and I NEED that permit to get back into the country!

And, argh, argh, argh! My team, the Cleveland Browns, just lost to the WORST team in the national football league! They are now 2-5. Sorrow reigns in the Dawg Pound (if you're from Cleveland, you understand me...)

And ah, yes, the time change. Since Hamburg is so doggone far north, with the time change, it gets dark here at 5:00pm now. It'll be closer to 4:00pm at around mid-winter. Time for solarium breaks to get some much needed vitamin D, since I won't really see the sun until March.

And, ummm, let's see, I need to start making my packing list for my trip. Lots of chocolate for all my friends and relatives. Clothes. Ipod and cell phone chargers. The biggest headache is packing for the, oh, 20 hour journey between my door in Hamburg, and my mom's door in Las Vegas. Books, noise-cancelling headphones, makeup (so I don't frighten people when I get off the plane), eye mask, inflatable neck pillow (looks ridiculous, but aids in getting some sleep), snacks for the US-leg of the journey, where they don't provide any food...Ah, nothing like transatlantic economy class.

That's it. Sorry, I'm still really grumpy about Cleveland losing...Ta

US Consulate Conquered!

..by me, that is. I managed to get into fortress US Consulate in Hamburg this morning, to get extra pages added to my passport. It was a feat, let me tell you. First, I went by yesterday evening to scope out the land. The whole building is surrounded by barriers and gates, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to get to the front entrance. It seemed that there was no opening in the barriers at all. But, after a good, strong cup of coffee this morning, and a prayer, I headed back to try to get in. I found that during opening hours, some of the barriers are moved, so I saw a clear path to the armed guards. Trying to look as little like a terrorist as possible, I walked up to them. Showed my passport, explained my business - and the Uzi holders let me through. Whew! Then, of course, one trots about 400 meters to a enclosed security screening center. There, you go through an exact replica of airport security: the bag and coat had to go through the x-ray machine, and I had to take my shoes off, because they set off the alarm. Plus, I had to turn in my mobile phone, because it had a camera. So...walked into the actual consulate, found the correct room, and in 5 minutes, my passport had extra pages. I cheerfully saluted the picture of GWBush hanging in the foyer, got my phone back, smiled and waved to the guards, and sauntered off to work. Mission accomplished!

I must say, though, the whole thing reflects the broader picture of trying to get into the US itself - really irritating, with lots of overkill, but once you're in, everyone is nice! At the consulate, it was a pleasure dealing with people who understand customer service. It was even 5 minutes before the actual opening time of the passport office, but people were smiling and ready to help anyway. This does not happen in German Aemter (official offices). I make my trek to the Auslaenderbehoerde (immigration office) get my residence permit extended on November 1. Will let everyone know how that goes!

American Football (Go Browns!)

I just have to write a quick post about this. It's Sunday night here in Germany, and I'm doing my usual, glancing at the live NFL scoreboard online, as I go about my business. This always makes me a bit sad, because I LOVE American Football, and not being able to watch live games is one of the hardest things for me! See, even though I'm a girl, and a girly girl at that, I've been hooked on the sport as long as I can remember. I think it comes from being born in Cleveland, Ohio (ergo, Cleveland Browns!). Everyone from Cleveland, old or young, male or female, is a football fan. I've heard it comes from drinking the water there...

Actually, I do have recourse to live football - the Armed Forces Network, which is the US army in Europe's radio station, broadcasts the games on AM 870. Unfortunately, the reception isn't very good, and also the time difference is a problem. Games start at either 13:00 or 16:00 eastern time, which is 19:00 and 22:00, respectively. The earlier games are ok, but the later games can go till 02:00. If I stay up and listen, then I'm tired and grumpy at work the next day - not good.

Aargh, and right now, it's Baltimore Ravens 16, Cleveland Browns 3! Yikes, it's the final score! Waaaaaahhhh! Ok, there's always next week...

Fiddling with Blog

Well, I just changed the template for this blog to blue. But by the time you read this, it might be changed again. I was reading my friend Wendy's blog, and mine just looked mighty sterile in comparison. Too much like a resume or something... Aaaand (ta da!) a picture of me is finally up. Let's face it, I will never be accused of being a geek. It took my poor history-major brain quite a while to figure out how on earth to post photos.

I suppose I should write about some Germany stuff. Haven't made it to the consulate yet (see previous entry...). Oh, yes, of course - I'm going to see the new Wallace and Gromit movie on Sunday, in English. Now, what will happen is that the audience will be filled with a smattering of English-speaking expats, but mainly will be filled with Germans eager to show that they can appreciate British humor in it's original language. The problem is that, even when they understand the humor, they don't laugh very loud. Unfortunately, we Americans do. It's ingrained, can't do nothin' about it. So, for the entire movie, the 4 or 5 Amis in the audience will be laughing uproriously and obnoxiously, and the Germans will spend the entire movie huffing indignantly at the loud Americans. I've even had the people in front of me move (after glaring at me significantly), because I was laughing too loud. I promise it's not just me! I can HEAR the other Amis. I swear I'm not the only obnoxious one, really!

At least the weather here is pleasant. Brisk but sunny autumn days, the leaves just beginning to fall.

Zollamt and the US fortress

When I was last in the US, I mailed a box of my books to my Hamburg address. This was in the middle of July, I think. I sent them by the slow boat, but I didn't expect it to take almost 3 months! Well, evidently, my books have been on German soil for some time, because the authorities were (somehow) convinced that this was my sneaky way of importing valuable English books to be sold on the black market here for great profit. Or something. I duly received a note from the Zollamt (customs office), to present myself to them with every form of identification that I possess. Plus 2 copies of a detailed Rechnung in der deutsche Sprache (receipt in German) - which, of course, I didn't have, because I didn't buy the things in the first place! Ok, I get there, and they summon me sternly to the desk, and dump my now very beat up box of books on the counter. I was ordered to open said box, so that they could inspect the contents. I did, and once they saw the dilapidated collection of old Agatha Christie novels, etc., they promptly said, basically, take it and go! Of course, the box was way to heavy for me, so I had to call a taxi to get me and the books home.

My next travail will be going to the US consulate in Hamburg to get additional pages added to my passport. This in itself should be painless. But how do I get into the building?? You see, like every American consulate and embassy, the one in Hamburg is surrounded by concrete barricades and very grumpy guards with Uzis. I've been past the consulate many times, but I have never once seen anything resembling an official entrance. So I'm imagining myself surreptitiously circling the place, trying to find said entrance. And also imagining getting shot for my pains.

Just found out that a good friend of mine in Berlin has got the possibility of a job in London (she's British). I'm sad that she's leaving Germany, but now I have someone to visit for shopping trips to my favorite city!! I'm trying my best not to be jealous. One of my dreams is to live in the UK some day - in a cute 19th century cottage that I can't possibly afford at the moment.

Oh, and we have a Kanzlerin!!!! Way ta go, Angie!

Beebon - the story

Obviously, my real name is not Beebon. And, in the interests of - well, I don't know what, maybe national security(?) - I'm not going to TELL my real name! But huge numbers of people on two continents call my only be this nickname: Beebon. Now, this is not the most melifluous nickname (did I spell that right?). But, like most nicknames, I didn't choose the thing. What happened is this: a loooong time ago, my friend's 2-year old son decided that, since he couldn't quite pronounce my real name, "Beebon" would do just fine. This child's mother thought it was cute (sigh), and started calling me that. Then all our mutual friends picked up on it, including my best friend. Well, this said best friend moved to Germany, and I followed 2 years later. She had a large group of friends there through our church, and soon all these people were calling me Beebon. As a matter of fact, rumor has it that my friends husband thought that it was my real name! Yikes! And to my friend's new son, I'm "Auntie Beebon". The saga continues...

Why am I even writing this? Because I've spent the past several hours at work editing a 130-page document that was written by a German national, filled with "Genglish", and I can't take it anymore!! Needed a break, so adding an entry to my blog is just the thing. Ok, whew, I feel better. I switched my iPod from Franz Ferdinand to Norah Jones, just to calm down. (BTW, I still love my nano, scratches and all. I consider them battle scars!).

I managed to get a nasty cold this week (probably from my Ryanair flight to Scotland), and let me tell you, I am soooo grateful that Scotland allows the sale of over-the-counter cold medicine. There I was, at Glasgow Prestwick at 5:00am, standing in line at the store with an armload of cough syrup, throat lozenges, and Nyquil. The stuff saved my life this week! You can't buy this stuff in Germany without a prescription, and while I can understand the concept, I wish people would also understand that, when I'm sick, the last thing I want to do is haul myself to the doctor's, wait 2 hours for a diagnosis of "cold", get my prescription, then haul myself to a pharmacy. There are herbal rememdies available, some of which are quite good (I've become addicted to chamomile tea), but when I'm really sick, I want drugs!

Still no news on the Chancellor of Germany front...Pleeeeeaaase let it be Merkel, God!

Oh, just had to add this: I just did a spell check on this blog, and it tried to change Beebon to Baboon. No comments, please.

Haggis, and all things Scottish

Just got back from my first trip to Scotland! I went on a church retreat to an area called the Trossachs, and we stayed in a darling little backpackers hostel close to a town called Callander. It was fantastic, I met a lot of great people from sister churches in Scotland, and yes, I ate haggis. I'm a pretty picky eater, and if I haven't eaten something before, chances are that I won't touch it. But since this was a special Scottish dinner, I thought, well it won't kill me (hopefully). What is haggis, you ask? Well, it's basically sheep's, heart, liver, and lungs, minced with onion, oatmeal, suet, spices, and salt, mixed with stock and traditionally boiled in the animal's stomach for several hours. One tries to forget this before one actually eats it...We also had a ceilidh, which is traditional Scottish dancing. It's a lot like American square dancing, and a ton of fun, even though many of us didn't have a clue what we were doing, and kept running into each other!

The Trossachs are absolutely gorgeous! We went on a steamboat cruise of Loch Katrina, which was amazing. And I got a photo of a real Scottish bagpiper! After the retreat, I went with my friend Wendy back to Edinburgh, and saw some of the sights. I got to go to a Starbucks that has got to have the best view of any Starbucks ever - you look right up at Edinburgh castle. Wow! I didn't get to see as much as I wanted to, thanks to time constraints and a sprained ankle (thanks to the ceilidh). Hopefully I can come back for a better look! I then hauled myself out the door at 3:00am the next morning, in order to drive to the airport 75 miles away. That was an experience. At least I had the road to myself, which is good, since I am not accustomed to driving on the left. All in all, I though Scotland was fantastic, and the people are soooo friendly!

Back in Germany, we still don't have a chancellor/chancellorette. I'm curious to see how this will play out, and whether the president will call for new elections, or who will win the fight to lead a possible grand coalition. Ach ja...