Sticky Apple Kisses

3 more days and the crazy aspect of my life should be calming down. As you noticed the posts are not as consistent as they once were, and I am not visiting my online friends the way I once was. I wish it was strictly because I was working, but its really because of the travel time associated with it. For every hour and a half that I work at the moment I spend another hour and a half traveling. The good news is that (much to my old school’s dismay) I am giving up my morning classes and enrolling in a month long German course. Starting next week I will spend every day from 8 - 12 in lessons, Monday to Friday. The goal is to get my German up to scratch. I speak like Frankenstein. I have also taken more courses from other schools, so now I work the same amount, only with concentrated hours in the afternoon. Sweet.

And so this week is the last week with my killer schedule, and even that only lasts till Wednesday. So since most of my morning students have jobs in finance I am bringing in an article about the women behind Dating A Banker Anonymous. Yes, a blog exists that details the tribunals of being the wive, girlfriend or mistress of a banker.

I am scatterbrained. This is not new news to myself nor I am sure to anyone who knows me at all or in any capacity. I am that crazy language teacher who runs in, papers askew, and chances are my socks do not match. Or I have a pair of my shiny new shoes on….and thick white socks. I cant promise to always be together, and I often forget things. Normally this is a source of inconvenience, but not the end of the world. But perhaps there is something to be said about guilt informing reactions, because I just threw one of my finer temper tantrums, screaming that I hate this place and I will never ever be contacting immigration attorneys in an effort to end my yearly visa application process. Today I went to the Korean supermarket and indulged in all the things I cant have anymore, or thought I couldn’t since leaving Korea. AND then on the way home I get sucked into the last Twilight book, stand up, and walk away from almost 20 Euros of goodness. I only noticed it when I went to put it away, and noticed there was nothing to actually put away.

GWAAAAAAAAAAAA

What Germany has to do with this, I do not know, but I knew I had to be angry at something or someone, and your host country is always such an easy target.

Sigh

Are a dream combination I swear. (I almost missed my train stop yesterday I was so sucked into the frigging book. The worse part is there is a part of me that screams how dorky it is and stylized the writing, while the other part of me is transported back to being 16 again when I wished I was Anne Rice and had those characters living in my head). But I digress.

The other news of the week is the fact that I am again questing for a bike. Betty remains my baby, she is my love, and though we have scarred each other I think that just proves how deep our love is. (after all what major love affair doesn’t leave you mangled in some way even if you do stay together). BUT, I was somehow bribed into family skiing, I get Enduro training for Easter if I go skiing in Switzerland. I am a disaster on skies, worse on a snowboard, but involved with a family of ski and snowboarding instructors. As in all of them are, not just the boyfriend.) Anyway, I have never lied about my ability to be bought, and so I now get Enduro training the weekend before we leave for Cuba. (Which will be very handy for Iceland indeed!)

The general consent is however Betty will be too heavy for me to enjoy the training. I argued that Betty is the bike I will be riding, so I should in fact take her, but the German feels I should get the techniques down on a lighter bike.

Betty is not so small (in comparison to me anyway, I know full well from every other guy I have met that the 650 is a “tiny” bike. I’m 5″1 people!!!!)

The problem is that the lighter bikes are a little tall for me: (Ignore the flip flops and jogging pants, I never had any intention of riding the bike, it was just to check out the height factor):

Versus my heavier, but feet touching, Betty:

But the quest is on, while I sit here reading about vampires I hear German in the background with the occasional “she is so small” or “sie ist sehr klein” as he tried to explain that I need a low bike. (And I know that there are plenty of women who ride tall bikes and do the one foot stop thing, but I just dont think I am talented enough to handle it in a group where I will be burning with the fear of embarrassment at the very thought of dropping the thing, and not in the mud, but rather while just standing there).

In other news, if vampires and bikes are not your thing, but your lovely is a plant person, check out this link: Persimmon trees. For V day I will give the German a plant, and I can say that here because he doesn’t actually read the site. heh heh. But I LOVE their website. I never thought botany could be sexy before, but I have been proven so wrong.

I am going to spill my guts to the internet. Although my last post was slightly accurate, I have spent more time then normal debating such things as furniture, kitchen faucets, and other odds and ends that normally would not occupy my time at all. It is also true that when I am busy I have less desire to write. However the little bit of free time I do have I have been spending in an activity I swore to myself I never would indulge in. But my friends are doing it too, and I just gave in to the peer pressure!

I am tearing through the Twilight books.

There it is out, I only started them last week, and despite being out of the house 12 hours a day, every waking second is spent reading those things!

And I am not sure my argument that I am learning German by watching the movie counts, as the books, despite a promise to only read them in German, have been purchased in English.

But it looks and sounds better in German doesn’t it:

(Let us not discuss why the simple fact is that German sounds good when spoken by vampires, rather than a typewriter eating tinfoil being kicked down the stairs. I will be kicked out of my apartment for even indulging in such talk).

My mother just emailed me to declare I must be busy, I am not even updating the blog. Seriously, I am crazy busy at the moment, but the sad part is half of it is work, the other half is spent running from one course to the next. When I am this busy however I dont feel any real desire to write, creatively or otherwise. My emails are going mostly unanswered and Im spending free time checking out office furniture. Seriously, I need to do something about my home office. I am quite happy with the switcharoo we did just before Christmas creating an office out of our bedroom. (It is also the spare bedroom as the couch in there turns into a bed ). But, when I have more than one student in there we just kind’ve try to hang on to a space of our own on the table like our lives depend on it.