Hammerica

Comic Relief for the World Cup Widow

2006-05-23T17:58:00.000-07:00

It hasn't even started but I'm already sick of the World Cup.

Europe's great neutral nation seems to know this about those of us with x-y chromosones and has launched a fabulous ad campaign.

Yum. This World Cup widow is already planning her next vacation!

1 Year + 1 Day

2006-05-21T12:10:00.000-07:00

One year ago today, I was starting my first full day back in the U.S. It was a horribly uncertain period - I was back in my dad's house, with no job and little money. I had no idea what I was going to do next or how I was going to start a whole new life. Had I made the right decision to throw away my life in Holland with only my gut telling me that it was right thing to do, however painful.

If I would have been able to see today, a mere year later, I wouldn't have worried a bit. I have a great job with fanastic, if sometimes slightly crazy, colleagues. I have re-connected with old friends and made a few new ones. I have made a comfortable home in the most gorgeous apartment I've ever lived in. And I met a man who is easily the best boyfriend in the world.

I am, for the most part, re-adjusted to life in the U.S. but still often miss Europe and my friends there. But the near-constant existential crisis is gone. I have found my home, and my peace. Who would have ever guessed that I would have to go on such a roundabout - albeit extraordinary - journey only to end up where I started?

Do You Realize??

2006-04-29T11:28:00.000-07:00

I'm enjoying the new Flaming Lips these days. But my favorite remains "Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots."

And "Do You Realize??" always moves me.

Do you realize that everyone you know someday will die

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes

Let them know you realize that life goes fast

It's hard to make the good things last

You realize the sun doesn't go down

It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

Speaking of psycho chicks...

2006-02-20T22:03:00.000-08:00

Turns out Mary Todd Lincoln is not a nutter after all. In honor of President's Day, the New York Times vindicates Abe's Old Lady - about 125 years too late.

Modern Love

2006-02-19T20:10:00.000-08:00

One of the first things I turn to in the Sunday New York Times is Modern Love in the Style section.

The weekly column - by various authors - always resonates, whether it's about Internet dating or buying a dog to save a marriage.

This week's piece I found particularly impactful. "Loved and Lost? It's O.K., Especially if You Win" by Veronica Chambers validates every person who has ever desperately drunk dialed an ex-lover or taken a last-minute flight to make a last-ditch effort at a doomed relationship.

When my father was 17, he moved half way around the world to be close to the girl he loved. He showed up at her door, without notice, and she rejected him immediately. It would take him another 20 years and two failed marriages to find true, lasting love. But he did and they've been happy for 25 years.

Of course, there can be a fine line between romance and restraining order and I'm still working out the guide posts on how that line is drawn.

Still, I applaud Ms. Chambers for taking a stand for heart-on-your sleave-cry-your-eyes-out love.

Top 10 Reasons I'm Really an American Again

2006-02-19T19:57:00.000-08:00

10. Drinking during the day is deviant.

9. I put ice in my soda.

8. I drink soda.

7. Two words: Netflix subscription.

6. Supersizing sometimes seems like a good idea.

5. Tipping 15 percent feels cheap.

4. I've been reading the same book for two months.

3. I think I pay a lot of taxes.

2. Working 50 hours a week is normal.

1. I own a Swiffer.

Homecoming

2005-11-06T08:28:00.000-08:00

Back in the

U.S.

for six months after four years out of it (feel free to joke amongst yourselves), I’ve been thinking about home, and its definition, a lot lately.

Repatriation has not brought relief to the near-constant sense of contradiction and conflict. In some ways, I feel as foreign ‘back home’ as I did abroad. Though I can’t shake my wanderlust, I am oddly envious of those who have laid roots. And despite my lack of place, I find myself feeling ever so ‘at home’ in many different locations: watching fireworks in a Salt Lake City suburb; having drinks in an Irish bar on Manhattan’s Upper West Side; and going for an Italian dinner in LA’s Larchmont.

The only through line I can identify is the people, the sweet friends and family that are at once close, and scattered about. Being able to go for a Saturday afternoon movie with a college friend is an indulgence I haven’t had for too long. But I still pine for a drunken, late-night grilled cheese sandwich with Wiggle in our Prague flat.

I have resigned myself to an ever-present state of missing someone. It is the blessing and curse of expatriation-repatriation – that one can find themselves in so many new places and yet still wonder, almost ceaselessly, where is home?

Autumn often exacerbates this mild existential crisis. The cooler climes and shorter days push me inside to pad around in wool socks. Still antsy from the summer, I find myself pulling out old photo albums and journals, flipping the pages in search of I know not what. LA’s feeble attempt at any sort of season seems to only make matters worse - as I try to compensate for the lack of meteorological change and push for some sort of breakthrough, some sort of answer.

The only thing I can conclude about home is that I’ve either found it, or I will be looking eternally. Both conclusions seem rather grim so, perhaps, I will instead just try to enjoy the present.

Speak Up, Ladies

2005-10-20T16:31:00.000-07:00

The Female Expat Project has added an audio blog component.

Creator Joelle Dietrick at UC San Diego has invited all of us one-time or current female expats to speak our minds and hearts on living abroad.

I received this from Joelle today:
"As you know, when we hop around the globe, our understanding of place and self are completely transformed. I’ve recently set up an audio blog (http://www.female-expat.org/audioblog/blog) where you can record your comments about expat life directly into your computer without having to download any software. It’s completely free and just an opportunity to gather ourselves in a virtual space since we are so far apart. There is a more traditional forum connected to the site at http://www.female-expat.org/_exp_respond/fepforum/index.html, but hearing the variety of voices filled with pauses filled with meaning seem more powerful. If enough women participate, maybe we can gather the audio for a documentary video or artwork about life overseas."

Vacation, American Style

2005-10-19T22:33:00.000-07:00

I just returned from my first vacation since repatriating. I spent a glorious week on the East Coast - making the rounds with friends from various chapters.

I saw the never benign or boring Eric in New York. We share of love of bourbon, Egon Schiele and the Wall Street Journal. Despite an aborted trip out of the city, we managed to amuse ourselves in Manhattan by doing, well, as little as possible. Turning off the phone and computer for two days was a dream.

I then spent several days playing second chair house wife in Maryland, where I caught up with one of my best friends, Courtney, and her two small children. We all went down to Baltimore for a day to see Kim and Rob run the marathon. They both turned in great times and managed to hobble to an ice cream later that day. I also squeezed in one night in Washington, D.C. to see Sarah, a dear friend from my days in Prague who has just started a master's degree program at American.

Travel - even when I don't go anywhere new - always makes me want more. It shakes me like snow globe, turning everything upside down. Now I find myself dreaming of trips to Paris and Polynesia.

The melancholy of my return has only been mitigated by news that Mom and David from Scotland will appear in November - both arriving on maybe the same day and here for Thanksgiving, my first stateside since 2000.

Busy, very Busy

2005-08-12T22:35:00.000-07:00

Dear Faithful Blog Reader,

I'm sorry I haven't written recently. But I've been busy. You know, very Busy.

The notion of Busy has suddenly re-entered my vocabulary after four years of hiatus.

But I've learned that I'm not the only one around here who is Busy. Everyone is. Friends don't call. They cancel plans. And my peer group seems to talk about three topics:

1. How shitty online dating is.
2. How expensive homes have become.
3. How Busy we all are.

Still, I can't work out why everyone here seems so much busier than all of my friends on the other side of the pond. Socialized democracy may afford many things to a society but, as far as I know, it has not meant more hours in the day.

The major variable, from my unscientific observations, appears to be the workday. It's cliche as hell but, seriously, we Americans work way more than our European cousins. Don't get me wrong - I am someone who enjoys turning up to work in the morning and get a buzz from putting in a solid day's work.

But many of us seem to be overdoing it. I have to force my reporters to go home when the workday is up. [Some of them even take bets on what time I'm going to give them the boot.]

I find it silly that people feel compelled to hang around after they have done their time for the day. Not only do studies show that productivity takes a serious nose dive after eight hours but most folks aren't getting paid for the extra time they log. So why continue to twiddle away at your desk when you aren't a. being productive and b. getting paid?

Despite my soap boxing, I find myself in the same predicament.

So please forgive me for not writing more often. I'm thinking of you often, dear reader, and promise to write when I have a little more Free Time.

Your devoted blogger,
Hammerica

American as a Second Language

2005-06-14T11:51:00.000-07:00

For the last two years, I lived with a native speaker of the Queen's English. Now that I'm back home in the U.S., I'm baffling friends with words like spanner and skip.

It's not that I'm trying to be cute or even Euro by saying shag instead of... well, you know. Or trash instead of bin. Or car park instead of parking lot. Or bank holiday instead of national holiday. Or petrol instead of gas.

I use these words because I've grown accustomed to what Americans would describe as British English and Britons refer to - naturally - as English. The Real English. After all, this is the language all continental Europeans are taught in school. Dutch friends have told me they are marked down by teachers when they speak "American English."

So in order for me to communicate with virtually all Europeans in English (as an American, it is genetically impossible for me to gain fluency in a real second language), I had to speak English. I also wrote for many English publications so I had to learn to reverse E's and R's (i.e. centre instead of center) and replace Z's with S's (realise instead of realize).

So far, my less than fluent American has caused some uncomfortable moments - like the other day when I just could not remember the American word for spanner. It's wrench, for those of you who are wondering. And I confused the hell out of my friends at dinner the other night when I kept banging on (talking a lot) about a skip (dumpster).

But it could get worse. Next week, I start an editing job where I will be unleashed with a red pen.

Thankfully, raced-based discrimination is illegal in this country.

Fighting the war against…

2005-06-08T17:12:00.000-07:00

I’m up and down a lot these days. One minute I’ll be loving life in Southern California and the next I find myself wondering whether I made the right decision to come back. The moments of doubt are fewer than the periods of joy. But I still have this sense that it will take some time to get re-adjusted.

My dreams are telling me. I left Holland three weeks ago but I am still having anxiety dreams about making sure that everything is moved out of my old apartment. A psychiatrist friend once told me that there are many ways to interpret dreams but the one that matters most is your own interpretation. My self diagnosis, then, is that the empty apartment, or lack thereof, is a symbol of how close or far I am to closing that chapter of my life. There are still pieces sitting around that need to be brought along, stored or tossed completely.

New items appear all the time, like opening a closet only to discover an old drum set that had slipped my mind. It may be obvious to most but I’m realizing I’m only able to open one closet at a time and consider each piece individually. Some of what I am finding is pleasantly surprising while other things are so painful I want to pretend I didn’t notice them sitting there.

I had a great conversation with my wise and insightful friend Jason yesterday. He told me about a quote he recently heard from the era of the American Revolution. It goes something like this: We can’t control whether we win the war but we can control whether we deserve to.

Perhaps we all have wars we are fighting, maybe even several. I am waging a battle for myself and suddenly I find myself facing the question: Do I deserve to win?

Stories you know

2005-06-07T09:08:00.000-07:00

Garrison Keillor, one of my favorite writers, was at the Hollywood Bowl last weekend. At the end of his show, he talked about returning to the storied Lake Wobegon, a place filled with “people who know the stories you know.”

The words struck deep and my eyes welled with tears. In a few eloquent words, Keillor summarized why I have come home.

Two nights earlier, I attended the 30^th birthday party dinner for my friend Steve. (It was my second 30^th birthday party in a week.) Steve is a friend from USC and most of the people at the dinner were also friends from school, good friends I’ve known since freshman year and who have lasted through many jobs, relationships, apartments and personal evolutions.

Despite all the many changes in each of our lives, there is a great fondness between us. And it was alive that night. We laughed about the parties we used to throw – and the drinks we used to invent. We remembered crazy neighbors and silly trips. And, as the evening progressed, we talked the way we used to – about the things we wanted to do and the ideas we have.

As we were leaving, my friend Jon said, “That’s exactly the kind of night I needed. Just shooting the shit."

Just being with the people who know the stories you know.

Sat on my ass

2005-06-06T15:23:00.000-07:00

In America, you don’t have to move your ass. Seriously. So many aspects of life are remarkably easy here.

Buy groceries and someone puts them in bags for you – they even ask if you want paper or plastic bags. And the bags are free!

Valet parking at many restaurants is not only an option, it’s sometimes required. You want to park your car yourself and walk the 30, instead of 5, steps inside? Sorry, you have to valet.

At movie theatres, you don’t even have to queue to buy snacks anymore. You put your order into an ATM-looking machine and get a number. When order is ready, they call your number and you pick it up then.

While recently buying a new pair of shoes at Nordstroms, I tried on about 10 pairs before I made my selection. It was astonishing to me that they continued to smile and bring more shoes as I rejected pair after pair. Sitting in a comfy chair after trying all those pairs of shoes, the sales assistant offered to ring it all up for me and bring the bill to me in the chair.

What a country – you don’t even have to stand up to buy a pair of shoes!

Immediately after, Dad and I went for dinner at the always-packed Cheesecake Factory. It is a new addition to the popular Grove shopping center and occupies two floors. To save diners from having to actually climb the stairs to the dining area, they installed an escalator.

But we’re already paying the price for our laziness. America is the fattest nation on earth and we’re getting fatter. There was a recent report that restaurant chains like Chili’s are buying larger tables and chairs to accommodate their larger customers.

This is part of the problem – we Americans are so comforted and coddled, we are becoming wimpy. I don’t exclude myself from this. I could stand to lose a few pounds and, hey, I didn’t even take the 10 steps to the cash register at Nordstroms.

Honeymooning

2005-05-20T09:25:00.000-07:00

I'm still amazed that one can wake up in Amsterdam and go to bed in Los Angeles. Though I was awake for about 24 hours, I did just that yesterday.

After saying some painful goodbyes, I had a direct flight to LA. My dad and stepmom collected me from the airport and we went straight to Marina del Rey for lunch. We sat outside, overlooking the sailboats and enjoying the sunshine. In the evening, we went for dinner at a little French place in the Farmer's Market. At both restaurants, we enjoyed fantastic wine, food and service.

It feels good - albeit surreal - to be back. The surreal bit comes from me having to remind myself that this was a one-way trip. I can't get my head around it exactly so I'm working on taking it one day at a time.

But the moments, so far, have been sweet. Eating and drinking well, being with my family, reading the newspaper, squeezing fresh juice this morning, marveling at the amazing selection of food at the Farmer's Market - the first days in a new place are often lovely. Culture trainers commonly refer to this as the 'honeymoon' period - when you are enchanted by the newness of a place.

It's strange to come home but still experience it as refreshing and new.

Priceless America

2005-05-17T02:58:00.000-07:00

My friend Travis recently helped me put into perspective what coming home means. He writes:

Jet lag: 3 days
Culture lag: 6 months
Ability to get an In-n-Out burger at 11 p.m. any day of the week: Priceless

Life for Sale

2005-05-16T00:45:00.000-07:00

Monday morning and I sit in a nearly empty 5-bedroom apartment. Two chairs, a small couch and a table are all that remain.

Just three days ago, it was packed with tables, carpets, kitchen wares and the dozens of other knick knacks one inevitably assembles to make a home.

In between then and now, I've opened my door to a steady stream of neighbors who paid garage sale prices for just about anything they laid their eyes on. The 'moving sale' was a new concept to my mostly Dutch neighbors. Luckily, it appealed to their frugle nature.

The final piece went last night around 9 when my neighbor from Nairobi came to pick up a couch she wanted. I also offered her the ficus plant I still had.

"It is lovely," she said, "how much?"

Nothing for a good home. Carrying it out, she explained that it needed more soil and she would plant it in a bigger pot.

So while the gal in #88 will tend to the plant, Anuk in #36 has some funky new chairs for her balcony.

Throughout this building in the center of Holland, the things that made up my life here will play a new role.

Final Daze

2005-05-07T01:28:00.000-07:00

I'm determined to enjoy my final days in Europe as much as possible. So I've been playing tourist recently.

On Thursday afternoon, we drove down to Antwerp for a look around. I'd never really been there - even though it's only 90 minutes by car south. A charming little city in northern Belgium, Antwerp’s impressive cathedrals and charming squares gave me that "I'm in a new city" buzz. We had a walk around, went for dinner (I had mussels - when in Rome, right?) and came home. I'm going to miss being able to go to a foreign country just for dinner.

And after more than two years of living here, I finally visited the Keukenhof for the first time yesterday. This massive tulip exhibition is only open two months a year - and still attracts hundreds of thousands of visitors from all over the world. It's no wonder - it is an absolutely stunning display of horticulture. Even Simon was impressed.

To see for yourself, visit www.keukenhof.nl - and do try to visit the Netherlands when the Keukenhof is open.

Going home: the worst culture shock of all

2005-05-04T11:31:00.000-07:00

Jeff Booth, editor of Student Traveler, recently repatriated to the United States after living in Italy for two years. In his Red Eye column, Booth chronicles some of his initial impressions.

"Returning to the States has upset me with my new perspective, and made other aspects (no place else on Earth is as wonderfully diverse) comfortable and welcoming. That’s what travel is supposed to go – give one new glasses to see both the exotic and the familiar in fresh light. That light can be a bit harsh and glaring at times. Like whenever I have to walk into a Walmart. But the same critical eye I had for corrupt Italian politics and quaint Swiss villages I’m turning back on the country I’m from."

Read the full column here:

Red Eye, Student Traveler, May 2005

Take it or leave it

2005-05-03T04:42:00.000-07:00

A lot of my time these days is spent putting things in one of two stacks - taking or leaving. Every item is a decision - a lot of which are rather easy. Photo albums? Taking. Handheld blender? Leaving. Moulin Rouge poster in Czech? Taking. Paperback of "Sophie’s Choice"? Leaving.

But then there are the items that have little more than sentimental value. For example, I've got these three green ceramic frogs given to me at a market in Amsterdam one spring day last year by a Persian man. I'm still not sure why he felt compelled to extend this present to me as the market closed for the day. But each one has this quirky expressions on its face and the trio have sat on my desk ever since, occasionally making me giggle and always reminding me of the kindness of strangers and the surreal moments of travel.

In the foyer, I have another ceramic piece. It is of the coat of arms of Most, a region in north Bohemia which has the highest unemployment in the Czech Republic. In some parts of the region, joblessness is as high as 45 percent. The placard was given to me by the head of the local labor office when I was there in 2001 writing about the issue. Whenever I look at it, I think about the people who have suffered more than they have gained as a result of the end of communism.

Maybe some expats bring home fine crystal or the local tapestry from their time abroad. This one, it seems, is coming back with little frogs and a coat of arms from a place no tourist in their right mind would ever visit.

These are the souvenirs I will take with me as one adventure ends and a new one begins.

Top 10 Things I Learned in Europe

2005-05-01T09:28:00.000-07:00

As I begin to pack up my life in Europe, I wanted to take a little time to reflect on the cultural insights and new perspectives I've gained since arriving in March, 2001. I've managed to whittle it down to this Top 10 List of things I have learned in Europe.

10. The difference between Slovakia and Slovenia.

9. Beer brings people together.

8. People speak English just about everywhere - expect at the train station in Krakow.

7. Exposing nipples on television does not appear to cause a breakdown in the moral fabric of society.

6. Eurotrash: it exists.

5. Beer has fewer calories than orange juice.

4. Patriotism and multilateralism are not mutually exclusive.

3. Americans smoking pot in Amsterdam can be just as offensive as Germans donning shorts in Los Angeles.

2. Swans can fly.

1. The worst travel experiences make the best stories.

Disclosure

2005-04-29T01:45:00.000-07:00

I'm not even back in the U.S. and I'm already worried about a lawsuit.

So for the sake of full disclosure, let me start off by saying I did not come up with the name of this blog. A friend did. Only he didn't know it would end up as the name of a blog about me returning to America after four years of living in Europe. But it did.

Please don't sue.