New Year's Resolutions:
- Run (3x week)
- Speak German at work
= So far so good! I ran three times this week, and spoke at least some German every day I was working at the hostel. With the German, it's crazy how simple it was once I begun. I can't believe I had the same resolution last year and was somehow too shy to ever put it into action. We get so many Germans, this time of the year, that I'm hoping I can keep practising pretty constantly. Not all of them want to speak German - many are here to practise their English, after all - but if they do want to then I'll give it my best shot. It's awesome when I actually get compliments on it - some Swiss guy was like, "I wish I could speak English as good as your German." !! No way !! And I loved it when I was in mid-conversation with a Canadian guy (in English, obviously) and some German came up told me that "Die Karte funktioniert nicht," and I just switched to talking to him about it in German. What I said was very simple, but the Canadian was impressed and all like, "How many languages do you speak?" With, you know, the implication that I spoke at least two. Made me feel ridiculously proud!
And the running - two of the three runs this week were over 30 minutes, so I'm pretty chuffed with that too. Usually I prefer to run outdoors, but I did my first longer run on the treadmill today and realised that the treadmill is a real option. After all, it's getting too hot to run outside a lot of the time, and since I've got a gym membership I might as well utilise it.
Note, though, that my resolution was to run 3 times a week, not go to the gym 3 times a week - if the gym can help me with the resolution, that's great, but I don't want classes or weights to replace runs. The classes are good for me too though, if in more of a 'step out of the comfort zone' way, and if I was inclined to make more resolutions then I might include them in there. But this year I'm going to be specific. Running, and German.
Two things that don't always feel natural or relaxing, but make me a happier person. Two things that, when done regularly, become easier, but which never reach a point of completion. Two things that give me the sensation that I'm grabbing onto my life and living it deliberately.
Showing posts with label german language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label german language. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Pickles
THE GOOD:
My comfy wumfy pants. OMGZ SO comfies!
Getting my groove back in the first German tutorial. This may have something to do with the abscene of the girls who are all OMG WE'VE ENTERED THE ROOM EVERYONE talky talky laugh-loudly-at-the-tutor's-jokes, oh-we-so-get-it-even-though-its-in-german, now lets whisper loudly to each other in german! (Hm. I need to work on my concise adjectives.) Anyway, one half of the said pair is actually lovely, and the other is not entirely awful, but it is nice to not hear the same cutesy voices every two seconds. Our tutorial is at 5 pm so the uni is nice and emptied and there are like six people in the class, plus we've got the sweet East-german tutor that I liked from last year. But to be honest, I enjoy feeling competent and loquacious again.
(But did I go too far in my excitement to share my associations with the word 'integration'? First, I offered something dramatic about how it used to be a positive, but now was seen as a negative, because people lost their own culture! Then, after a few simple entries by the others like 'language' and 'living together', in an attempt to not to seem too radical, I mentioned that if people of different cultures lived 'close' together without integrating, there could be 'violence'! The tutor murmured something about that being an extreme example.)
A break with unigirlfriend, signing up for a legal comp and talking about social stuff.
Brian offering his apologies for putting me on a back to back shift and offering to take over earlier on Wednesday evenings should I ever want him to.
Experimenting with going to bed with wet hair and a little product = waking up with nice nice curls.
THE BAD
Keep a non-paying former guest's passport as security, or give it to them because they need it to get paid? Would you pay back money owed for nights you slept somewhere for free, if you were just getting back on your feet and finally had nothing tying you there? What's to stop you taking the passport and walking away? What if you were annoyed about how you'd been treated there? I've got to say, if I was in that situation I'd put pretty high regard on looking after number one. Perhaps I'd mail the hostel a cheque for what I thought was fair, then never show my face around there again. Perhaps honour would win out and I would return the passport and promise the money soon. Perhaps the free breakfast given by the receptionist girls would keep me on their good side. Here's hoping, for my sake!
And then there's the woman who wants to go to Kangaroo Island, who finally gets the last place on the second-best tour and is waiting promptly for her tour bus in the morning, who waits forty minutes before coming back to the hostel. The bus driver who misses her on the list but comes back just as she's gone and calls (leaving no number, so I have to wait til the office is open twenty minutes later to contact anyone) to say he can't wait any longer and has to go. Too late to catch a taxi, no chance to book another tour. I actually felt sorry for him too, after giving him an earful of my (rightful) disapproval, because he obviously took his boo boo to heart. And then I had: "Sticky situation! I'll give you a sticky situation!" in an American Parent-Trap accent continuously refraining in my head.
THE UGLY
Call it office politics, suspected theft, a testosterone war, 'no trust', the IT boy claiming too much authority, a tendency to 'annoy' staff behind the front desk, a tendency to 'help' staff behind the front desk, stepping out of the view of cameras, too much 'social acumen', a dirty set up. Morgan's been kicked out of the hostel and it sucks. For him, I would imagine, even more than for us, since we're talking about his home and family. Damn it.
My comfy wumfy pants. OMGZ SO comfies!
Getting my groove back in the first German tutorial. This may have something to do with the abscene of the girls who are all OMG WE'VE ENTERED THE ROOM EVERYONE talky talky laugh-loudly-at-the-tutor's-jokes, oh-we-so-get-it-even-though-its-in-german, now lets whisper loudly to each other in german! (Hm. I need to work on my concise adjectives.) Anyway, one half of the said pair is actually lovely, and the other is not entirely awful, but it is nice to not hear the same cutesy voices every two seconds. Our tutorial is at 5 pm so the uni is nice and emptied and there are like six people in the class, plus we've got the sweet East-german tutor that I liked from last year. But to be honest, I enjoy feeling competent and loquacious again.
(But did I go too far in my excitement to share my associations with the word 'integration'? First, I offered something dramatic about how it used to be a positive, but now was seen as a negative, because people lost their own culture! Then, after a few simple entries by the others like 'language' and 'living together', in an attempt to not to seem too radical, I mentioned that if people of different cultures lived 'close' together without integrating, there could be 'violence'! The tutor murmured something about that being an extreme example.)
A break with unigirlfriend, signing up for a legal comp and talking about social stuff.
Brian offering his apologies for putting me on a back to back shift and offering to take over earlier on Wednesday evenings should I ever want him to.
Experimenting with going to bed with wet hair and a little product = waking up with nice nice curls.
THE BAD
Keep a non-paying former guest's passport as security, or give it to them because they need it to get paid? Would you pay back money owed for nights you slept somewhere for free, if you were just getting back on your feet and finally had nothing tying you there? What's to stop you taking the passport and walking away? What if you were annoyed about how you'd been treated there? I've got to say, if I was in that situation I'd put pretty high regard on looking after number one. Perhaps I'd mail the hostel a cheque for what I thought was fair, then never show my face around there again. Perhaps honour would win out and I would return the passport and promise the money soon. Perhaps the free breakfast given by the receptionist girls would keep me on their good side. Here's hoping, for my sake!
And then there's the woman who wants to go to Kangaroo Island, who finally gets the last place on the second-best tour and is waiting promptly for her tour bus in the morning, who waits forty minutes before coming back to the hostel. The bus driver who misses her on the list but comes back just as she's gone and calls (leaving no number, so I have to wait til the office is open twenty minutes later to contact anyone) to say he can't wait any longer and has to go. Too late to catch a taxi, no chance to book another tour. I actually felt sorry for him too, after giving him an earful of my (rightful) disapproval, because he obviously took his boo boo to heart. And then I had: "Sticky situation! I'll give you a sticky situation!" in an American Parent-Trap accent continuously refraining in my head.
THE UGLY
Call it office politics, suspected theft, a testosterone war, 'no trust', the IT boy claiming too much authority, a tendency to 'annoy' staff behind the front desk, a tendency to 'help' staff behind the front desk, stepping out of the view of cameras, too much 'social acumen', a dirty set up. Morgan's been kicked out of the hostel and it sucks. For him, I would imagine, even more than for us, since we're talking about his home and family. Damn it.
Monday, January 12, 2009
There's always some excuse
So.
My New Year's resolution is to live in the moment. In the small picture. Is that weird? Not when you use examples. Enjoy the night, don't bog yourself down with thoughts of the next morning's obligations. Be mentally present at work, don't count down the hours until the shift ends. Keep running, just feel the running, try not to anticipate the finish line or it will come more slowly. You remember moments in life, you don't remember transitions between them. So see each moment separately for what it is.
Also: Pay off a grand of HECS each invoice.
Also: Be chatty with guests at the hostel. Nearly everyone has a sympathetic side.
Also: Put myself 'out there', both in a sense of physicality and personality. People, on the whole, like me, but I forget that, and consequently I come off as a little reserved on first impression. So: do things outside of my comfort zone, with people who aren't already inside the personal bubble. Let them in.
Wait, a few more. These are the ones I'm already failing:
Keep my nails nice. Seriously. Torn, uneven nails are not cute. You don't play cops and robbers in the playground these days. You are a big girl now. Evidence: menstruation, ownership of high heels. (I kid.) Big girls have nice nails, ok?
Auf Deutsch mit den deutschen Gaesten zu reden. Look, I don't even know if that's correct. I miss the feeling of navigating my way through successfully through a sentence, my mind laying down the path pieces for my words to skip along. I have deteriorated so much in German, I reckon, and a good lot of that is confidence. Fine, my secondary resolution is to get a HD in German at uni this coming semester. That sounds ambitious for someone who can barely stutter out a phrase on the cuff, but I reckon I could do it - after all, I did get distinctions last year by doing nothing more than the minimum; the push of what I'd learnt in year twelve still carrying me along. Sure, it'll be a step up... but I'll give it my best shot this time.
Alright. Enough resolutions. Its going to be 41 degrees tomorrow, and I'm going to THE BEACH, which is against everything that me and my pasty skin stand for. Its with DW and some of his friends, and I have suspicions that he will want me to be all bikini-body and bare. Dude. This girl does not tan.
For some reason I've been thinking about what I look like lately, not in a body-image problem type way nor in a fit of vanity. Well, maybe it is the latter, in a sense. But I've just been trying to get a guage on what I *actually* look like, and I've been thinking about my outer shell, if you will, with a sense of curious detachment. Sure, there are physical qualities about yourself that you know for fact. But. What else? You get used to seeing pictures of your face, but then you see a shot taken with your face side-on in the background and its weird. So that's what my nose is like from the side? And my chin? Interesting to know. I've been made aware that I have a distinctive jaw, which I would not have ever known about myself had it not been for observant male friends. Then again, one described it as kind of detaching itself from its proper position when I smile, but looking nice (w.t.f?) while another called it 'slightly manly'. And do I have the family nose, which is not a particularly good thing, or does it, as someone said, 'have a very feminine curve'? What does that mean, anyway? Can it be both? When did my skin stop being 'oily/combination' and start up with 'dry/sensitive'? Is that what it even is? Do people see my arms as all pink and freckly, or do they not notice? Is it obvious that one eyebrow has a slightly higher arch than the other, when not properly groomed? Hey, my elbow looks pointy in that photo. Are my elbows pointier than other people's? My hair looks pretty there. But there, my hair looks like a square. Would people describe me as a blonde? And body shape. Clearly I'm on the thin end of the spectrum, and not overly curvy, but... what's my gangliness to grace rating? To some I'm probably 'too scrawny', to others 'petite', to others, dare I say it, 'hot'. My boss declared that I had the same proportions as his six foot, D-cup wife, which... is maybe an exaggeration. But nevertheless, some people seem to see a quite feminine physique, while other sets of roaming eyes pass me over in favour of some more... spantaneous bootay. Shopping for black work pants in a cheap store mainly frequented by thirteen-year-olds and Asians gave me some insight as to why I had slowly come to feel smaller over time... pants declared size ten in that little store are skin tight, while in big-girl-shopping land a size ten may slip entirely past the waist and cling for dear life on the pitiful semblance of hips. I haven't shrunk since early teen years... good to know! Of course, this is all getting into people's personal preferences of attraction, which really is vanity territory, but I just want some objectivity, damnit!
Alright. This entry is certainly more than enough introspection for one night. Let me look outside of myself for a minute, and talk about:
Twilight. Overall, I have to admit that I was kind of 'meh'. There were bits that were good, bits that were sexy or exciting, but I felt like I could tell that the author liked writing those parts too so put all her energy there and then just burbled her way through the joining-up-parts. I was passively entertained, but I don't know that I'd jump straight to the sequel.
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I realised how biased I was when I looked up reviews after the movie, and decided not to read the unfavourable ones because they clearly didn't get it. Haha. Something which I haven't yet seen mentioned, is that it made me feel that being 'old' wouldn't be all that bad... going backward through the years makes it look like, wow, 65 is really a spring chicken! And what superb physical condition he's in at 50! For a moment there I thought it would be better if there was no real connection between the man in the diary and the woman reading, because it would give it this sort of existential touch, a suggestion of the way we metaphorically bump into each other and see brief glimpes into each other's lives. But I think it was actually better how they did it. I liked the ending, with the baby's eyes a nice creepy touch. Plus, Brad Pitt is sexy. There was a point where it was like the producers flipped a switch and it was like, there he is! Goodbye weird old-man relationship, hello Mr Hot Stuff!
I'm looking forward to the Time Traveller's Wife coming out, but I have a feeling that although TTTW could be done justice with that same depth of emotion, it... won't be. Hm. We'll see.
The Island of The Colourblind: I got this for Christmas and I'm still reading it - it's not something that you whip through in a frenzy, but I like it. I have a soft spot for non-fiction tales of biology, especially ones with copious digressing footnotes, and I like thinking about the bizarre yet totally fateful occurrences on our planet. I plan to read more of Oliver Sacks stuff... He lets me, who can never go back to 'hard sciences', see more of our intriguing world.
Alright. It's late. Enough.
My New Year's resolution is to live in the moment. In the small picture. Is that weird? Not when you use examples. Enjoy the night, don't bog yourself down with thoughts of the next morning's obligations. Be mentally present at work, don't count down the hours until the shift ends. Keep running, just feel the running, try not to anticipate the finish line or it will come more slowly. You remember moments in life, you don't remember transitions between them. So see each moment separately for what it is.
Also: Pay off a grand of HECS each invoice.
Also: Be chatty with guests at the hostel. Nearly everyone has a sympathetic side.
Also: Put myself 'out there', both in a sense of physicality and personality. People, on the whole, like me, but I forget that, and consequently I come off as a little reserved on first impression. So: do things outside of my comfort zone, with people who aren't already inside the personal bubble. Let them in.
Wait, a few more. These are the ones I'm already failing:
Keep my nails nice. Seriously. Torn, uneven nails are not cute. You don't play cops and robbers in the playground these days. You are a big girl now. Evidence: menstruation, ownership of high heels. (I kid.) Big girls have nice nails, ok?
Auf Deutsch mit den deutschen Gaesten zu reden. Look, I don't even know if that's correct. I miss the feeling of navigating my way through successfully through a sentence, my mind laying down the path pieces for my words to skip along. I have deteriorated so much in German, I reckon, and a good lot of that is confidence. Fine, my secondary resolution is to get a HD in German at uni this coming semester. That sounds ambitious for someone who can barely stutter out a phrase on the cuff, but I reckon I could do it - after all, I did get distinctions last year by doing nothing more than the minimum; the push of what I'd learnt in year twelve still carrying me along. Sure, it'll be a step up... but I'll give it my best shot this time.
Alright. Enough resolutions. Its going to be 41 degrees tomorrow, and I'm going to THE BEACH, which is against everything that me and my pasty skin stand for. Its with DW and some of his friends, and I have suspicions that he will want me to be all bikini-body and bare. Dude. This girl does not tan.
For some reason I've been thinking about what I look like lately, not in a body-image problem type way nor in a fit of vanity. Well, maybe it is the latter, in a sense. But I've just been trying to get a guage on what I *actually* look like, and I've been thinking about my outer shell, if you will, with a sense of curious detachment. Sure, there are physical qualities about yourself that you know for fact. But. What else? You get used to seeing pictures of your face, but then you see a shot taken with your face side-on in the background and its weird. So that's what my nose is like from the side? And my chin? Interesting to know. I've been made aware that I have a distinctive jaw, which I would not have ever known about myself had it not been for observant male friends. Then again, one described it as kind of detaching itself from its proper position when I smile, but looking nice (w.t.f?) while another called it 'slightly manly'. And do I have the family nose, which is not a particularly good thing, or does it, as someone said, 'have a very feminine curve'? What does that mean, anyway? Can it be both? When did my skin stop being 'oily/combination' and start up with 'dry/sensitive'? Is that what it even is? Do people see my arms as all pink and freckly, or do they not notice? Is it obvious that one eyebrow has a slightly higher arch than the other, when not properly groomed? Hey, my elbow looks pointy in that photo. Are my elbows pointier than other people's? My hair looks pretty there. But there, my hair looks like a square. Would people describe me as a blonde? And body shape. Clearly I'm on the thin end of the spectrum, and not overly curvy, but... what's my gangliness to grace rating? To some I'm probably 'too scrawny', to others 'petite', to others, dare I say it, 'hot'. My boss declared that I had the same proportions as his six foot, D-cup wife, which... is maybe an exaggeration. But nevertheless, some people seem to see a quite feminine physique, while other sets of roaming eyes pass me over in favour of some more... spantaneous bootay. Shopping for black work pants in a cheap store mainly frequented by thirteen-year-olds and Asians gave me some insight as to why I had slowly come to feel smaller over time... pants declared size ten in that little store are skin tight, while in big-girl-shopping land a size ten may slip entirely past the waist and cling for dear life on the pitiful semblance of hips. I haven't shrunk since early teen years... good to know! Of course, this is all getting into people's personal preferences of attraction, which really is vanity territory, but I just want some objectivity, damnit!
Alright. This entry is certainly more than enough introspection for one night. Let me look outside of myself for a minute, and talk about:
Twilight. Overall, I have to admit that I was kind of 'meh'. There were bits that were good, bits that were sexy or exciting, but I felt like I could tell that the author liked writing those parts too so put all her energy there and then just burbled her way through the joining-up-parts. I was passively entertained, but I don't know that I'd jump straight to the sequel.
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I realised how biased I was when I looked up reviews after the movie, and decided not to read the unfavourable ones because they clearly didn't get it. Haha. Something which I haven't yet seen mentioned, is that it made me feel that being 'old' wouldn't be all that bad... going backward through the years makes it look like, wow, 65 is really a spring chicken! And what superb physical condition he's in at 50! For a moment there I thought it would be better if there was no real connection between the man in the diary and the woman reading, because it would give it this sort of existential touch, a suggestion of the way we metaphorically bump into each other and see brief glimpes into each other's lives. But I think it was actually better how they did it. I liked the ending, with the baby's eyes a nice creepy touch. Plus, Brad Pitt is sexy. There was a point where it was like the producers flipped a switch and it was like, there he is! Goodbye weird old-man relationship, hello Mr Hot Stuff!
I'm looking forward to the Time Traveller's Wife coming out, but I have a feeling that although TTTW could be done justice with that same depth of emotion, it... won't be. Hm. We'll see.
The Island of The Colourblind: I got this for Christmas and I'm still reading it - it's not something that you whip through in a frenzy, but I like it. I have a soft spot for non-fiction tales of biology, especially ones with copious digressing footnotes, and I like thinking about the bizarre yet totally fateful occurrences on our planet. I plan to read more of Oliver Sacks stuff... He lets me, who can never go back to 'hard sciences', see more of our intriguing world.
Alright. It's late. Enough.
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