It's All Connected

Blame it on astrological happenstance (I'm a hot-headed, two-sided Gemini), genetic predisposition or perhaps some mild form of mental illness, but the fact stands that I generally have two emotions. The first one is called 'up' and consists of singing, dancing, laughing and loud-talking. The second is called 'down' and involves moping, intermittent sleeping and loud-talking. I can't help the polarity of my feelings and they manifest in many ways. For example:

I hate technology.

I love technology.

See what I mean?

Firstly, I hate technology because it makes everyone obesessed with being connected all the time. I've been sitting in a conversation with someone to have them pick up their constantly beeping phone and reply to a text message. Making sounds like 'MmmHmmm' and 'Yep, yep' while beep-booping away on your key pad does NOT make me think you are a good listener. I hate that being without internet for 10 days made me feel like I wasn't connected to the world. Phones, newspapers, books and human conversation should be enough stimuli, no? I hate that people spend more on special televisions than I spent on my first car, and that said TV's have started to replace art over fireplaces all over North America. I hate that not having a cell phone makes me an inconvenient freak among my friends. I hate that children are getting repetitive stress injuries from playing video games instead of skinned-knees from playing outside. In my honest opinion, actually rough-housing with actual children is better than virtually blowing the enemy to smithereens.

I love technology because it makes my transient life so much lighter. I can shop, bank and correspond all at once. I love technology because it can make us safer, and kept this man from lingering for a long, long time in an Egyptian prison. I like that a GPS navigational system is hands-free and speaks aloud, easily winning out over a crumpled Mapquest printout that leads me the wrong way down a one way street. I like renewing my library books online and checking the weather every hour on the hour for any location in the world. Without the internet I would lose touch with friends, current events and *gasp* English speaking television. The horrors! My dog can be tracked with a chip implanted in his shoulder, all you have to do is run him over a grocery-store like scanner. Did you know that robots can do virtually any job that a human of average intelligence can do? It's true.

At the end of this internal discussion (which is much, much longer when played out in my head), it's always a draw. I want to be connected, and have the option to disconnect without everyone (*ahem*, mom) freaking out they can't get a hold of me immediately. I want a robot car like KITT from Knight Rider but I don't want a robot who tries to hug me like Haley Joel Osmet in A.I. I want a navigation system to help me find my way, but sometimes I want to shut that thing down and get a little lost just for fun. I don't want an electronic toothbrush, ever.

I'll Give You A Penny...

...if you can tell me what these are. We found them while sorting through our belongings that have been in storage. The Universe only knows what purpose we have these stored for...

Sun Shines, Snow Melts

Riff This

I know that what I am about to say has the potential to put my life in danger. But I am willing to take that risk, I'm going to put it out there.

Guitar Hero is SUPER annoying.

For those of you who are fortunate enough to not know what Guitar Hero is, let me explain. Guitar Hero is a video game where the players (also known in more adept circles as 'gamers') hold a fake guitar and try to follow along with the notes on the screen. There are, of course, songs of varying levels of difficulty and graphics to make you feel like you are actually somewhere other than your mom's basement. It's like karaoke for guitar. It's like Simon but with music instead of annoying electronic beeping. Like many epidemics, you will find that almost everyone you know is acquainted with someone who is afflicted with an addiction to this activity.

I'm not about to take on the entire 'gaming' culture and say that all video games should go. I have my share of vices (ie: chocolate, 'Cold Case Files', mumus) and I don't stand in a position where I could deny others of theirs. Plus, there are millions of gamers who would probably form an army and cut me down (albeit virtually) if they perceived a threat.

I watched a rather lengthy piece on the CBC News the other night about the potential health risks of Guitar Hero and it's new, more elaborate cousin Rock Band. Health risks of a video game. Carpal tunnel, finger pain and eye strain. And from the look of some of the topless, face-painted rockers, brain damage. Truly, there were grown men without their shirts, holding fake instruments, doing high leg kicks. Please, sir, put your shirt on and watch those kicks, you are bound to pull your groin.

What's your point, Lane? Where are you going with this? What I'm saying is this: why don't these millions of people, instead of pretending to play instruments with primary-colored buttons on a mini-guitar, learn to play...wait for it...REAL instruments. A guitar can definitely be found cheaper than a video game console. And while you may have to suffer through some callused fingers, you'll end up with an actual talent. What sounds better to you? "I have a terrible case of eye strain and carpal tunnel from pretending to play instruments on a video game" OR "These calluses on my fingers are from learning to play the guitar...a REAL guitar." Other potential benefits of playing a real instrument include: being able to play without electric outlets and a television, learning songs that aren't in the game program and not being totally deluded about your musical abilities.

I hope none of my friends in the blogosphere are offended by my stance on Guitar Hero, but I truly can't get my mind around this much-hyped phenomenon. As public schools continue to fail to find funding for music programs, children are spending hours in front of a screen pretending to play 80's hair band music. As culture continues to be dumbed down by the constant flow of entertainment, music has suddenly become as simple as pressing the right buttons in the proper sequence. Maybe I'm overreacting, maybe it's just a passing phase. But as the Wii has made it unnecessary for people to go to an actual bowling alley to bowl, Guitar Hero may soon suck the life out of many potentially talented musicians. But I hope not.

Source.

Pretzel Weight

I promise I'm not fishing for compliments, and I know that my kind and loving loved ones will tell me that I've not gained an ounce since my 16th birthday. But the truth is that a season spent in the land of pretzels and Nutella (and sometimes pretzels dipped in Nutella) which came directly after a season spent in the land of cheese (with the cheese sometimes deep fried) I've begun the slow process of weight gain. Ten pounds since the wedding day, to be exact. And so, with the season over and the carb-heavy diet of Germany at least temporarily behind me, I begin my quest. To walk, bike, run and yoga off the extra bits that have clung to the region between my knees and my belly button. Use your imagination as to what that looks like.

Day One of this plan, which fell on a Saturday, was inspiring, as the sun finally came out and the springtime-Winter Wonderland called to me. My favorite form of exercise is anything done outdoors, the smell of the inside of the gym just kills my motivation. My relationship with my best friend was, in fact, forged on the bonds of skipping class and finding mountains, forests, and beaches to explore on snowshoes, skiis or feet. And so, with my Real Boy, my Best Friend, and her Real Girl, I took a deep breath of Upper Peninsula air and hit the road. Feel the burn!

How We Got Where We Are Now

Our journey home was a long one, but ended at my parents front door, which is what matters most. Phase 1 consisted of a Mr. Toad's Wild Ride-esque trip in a cargo van from Crimmy to Frankfurt. I've barely ever gone that fast in ANY vehicle, let alone a cargo van, and despite the mini-dose of Dramamine, Falcor was unable to stop himself from upchucking all over the floor. He's prone to motion-sickness, what can I say?

Phase 2 began when we arrived in Frankfurt and checked in for our flight. We were 3.5 hours early and the staff was incredibly helpful. Checking on things for Falcor, letting us pre-weigh our extremely heavy bags. And despite the fact that we were inconvenienced by a canceled flight the day before, the travel Gods smiled upon us briefly by placing us on a flight that was only half full. We stretched out and pretended to watch movies while enjoying the mind-numbing effects of German sleeping pills, highly recommended over the U.S. version.

Phase 3 was the most hairy leg of our journey, consisting of a white-knuckle ride home from Chicago. Rain turned to snow, snow turned to sleet, and sleet became the rarely seen ice-slush before turning into snow again. By the time we arrived home at 5am, Dave and I were ready for lunch and my mom was on the verge of blacking out. Jet-lag set in, but we are home ladies and gentlemen, we are home.

When I woke up after 3 hours of glorious sleep, I put on my puffiest coat and marched up to my best friend's house. In the top 5 of the most amazing things about coming from a small town is the fact that I can walk to most of my friends houses, the bar, the Co-op and the public library. Jess suited up and we walked the Real Boy through the snow day madness.

Hasn't spring sprung?

You'd barely recognize this scene from the sunny days of our wedding.

Doing my part to keep the driveway pristine, making my dad proud.

Dave does some heavy lifting.

My parents are happy to see us, but tired from the long trip from Chicago.
Out for David's favorite Cajun fish fry! We know we are back in America because we got carded!

In Marquette, you can walk through town, stopping in several businesses along the way, with a gas can. No big deal.

The snow piles up on the sandstone.

Costa Bravan Honeymoon: A Retrospective

A little over a year ago, Dave and I were embarking on our first trip to Spain, also known as our Honeymoon. We flew into Girona, spent some time in Barcelona, and went on to the small town of Palamos to relax near the sea. To this day, I think that week in Spain was our favorite European vacation destination. The laid back attitude of the people, the abundance of delicious appetizers a.k.a. tapas, the palm trees, and architecture. But mostly, we loved that Sangria and siesta originate in one place. How can that not be the most awesome place on Earth?

Barcelona: It feels like a set from Indiana Jones.

Sagrada Familia: The most awesome drip-castle ever made.

Gaudi: Knew what he was doing.

Wine: Is what honeymoons are made of.

Steeples: Set the mood.

Getting lost: A very romantic way to spend the afternoon.

The market: A wonderland of food, minus the animal parts.

Sangria: The start to a a fun evening and a painful headache the next morning.

Palamos: Where you can go to unwind.

Sailboats: A staple in a fishing village.

Balcony: A place where honeymooners can read and drink wine.

The Mediterranean: Calls me in and makes me want to swim without a wetsuit.

Bend It Like A Bavarian

Regardless of whether you win a championship or finish up in last place, every season ends with a certain amount of drunken debauchery, overeating, mooning and public crying. So after all that, but before we started the suitcase-jamming for our return to North America, we needed a few days away from Crimmy. A place with some tranquility. A place with stunning vistas. A place where the debauchery could continue in a different setting. Although we had hoped to be able to take a trip similar to our Spain trip of last season, the unexpected playoff run the the Pirates took left us a bit short on time. So our generous and consistently cheerful friend Florian offered to host us in the Bavarian dream world that he calls home.

Let the road trip begin.

The village of Mittenwald, a few kilometers outside the larger ski resort town of Garmisch-Partenkirchen, was charming to say the least. The streets were lined with traditionally painted Bavarian dwellings, and the mountains closed us in on every side. Florian's bachelor bad, which we promptly took over in our typical fashion, was right in the center of town.

The local brewery in Mittenwald welcomed us with a much more tasty offering than the pils that we had been used to drinking in Saxony. And when Dave coupled it with a traditional schnitzel (conveniently smothered in some kind of bacon) the regional brew was even more satisfying. Not pictured in this meal is, and I literally do quote, "The most delicious soup I have ever had." And that man has eaten a lot of soup. The main shopping drag also boasted a cafe specializing in tea and chocolate. Is it me, or does it sound like they opened that shop with me in mind? How thoughtful.

Although I would probably be content to wander through a village for hours and days, the men I was accompanying wanted something more. Our original plan to hit the slopes (hoping my skiing skills would return to me in that 'it's like riding a bike' sort of way) was thwarted by an avalanche warning, so we hopped on the Karwendelbahn to get up on top of an apparently avalanche ridden moutain. Perfect. Please note how unafraid Dave and Flo look, despite dangling in a clanking cable car above jagged mountains.

Please note, I am not as able to hide my fear.

Don't tell me not to worry, I've seen Cliffhanger.

Scary tunnel under which you must pass in order to get to the beginning of the ski run.

Smiling like we just summited Mount Everest. In reality, we were at the Bergstation that is about 2,244 meters or about 7,362 feet.

We woke up the next day to glorious sun shining down on all the snow that had fallen the night before. So instead of waking up our slightly hungover host (you know how those young kids are, can't pay the piper the next day) we decided to head out on our own and find the trailhead that lead to a lake above town. Luckily for us, Falcor is a trooper and could romp and tromp through the woods and snow for hours. Because the signs leading up to that lake were not all that straightfoward. You know in cartoons when the good guy turns the signs around to mislead the bad guy? In this scenario, we were the bad guy and this hike took us on a long and winding road.

Eureka! We have found the Lautersee!

The drive home to Crimmy was more painful than it needed to be, seeing as how a seven-day bender that spanned from Saxony to Bavaria had left us somewhat crippled. But we pushed on, and spent the hours in the car reviewing the season, counting our lucky stars, and planning a return trip to Mittenwald. Preferably in the summer. And minus the cable car.

The Dark Side Of The Moon

I've spent the last week without internet access, living in a bender induced stupor spanning from Saxony down to Bavaria. I'm still here, but until I get back to the U.S. on Wednesday, I'm not going to be able to entertain you with my literary stylings. Be well, and enjoy your ability to connect to the internet!