Mel's Diner

52nd Thessaloniki International Film Festival

2011-11-13T20:18:00.001+02:00

TheThessaloniki International Film Festival was going on this past week, and myhusband and I made it to a handful of films, some with horrifying results. Part of the problem was having to see moviesaround our schedules, and so our choices weren't as varied as we would haveliked (we flagged perhaps 20 films we would have liked to see over the courseof the festival - we made it to 4). Another tip that might have been helpful – checking IMDB first –although I didn’t really want to be influenced by someone else’s opinion. All in all I don’t regret any of the choices(even the horrible, really couldn’t understand it “experimental” film), becausethat is part of the film festival experience. You can’t expect to love everything, and obviously, as with all art,everything is subjective.

The firstmovie we went to see was When Pigs Fly,directed by Sara Driver. A ghost story,I think the setting was fabulously done – American Gothic, perfect for the film- and the idea of ghosts being morealive than the living worked well. Unfortunately, the dialogue fell horribly flat, and made what could havebeen a great film a bit of a farce. Ofcourse, this could have been what Ms. Driver intended (we did not attend theviewing where she answered questions), for whatever reasons. I try not to make assumptions about artisticintentions. However, I’d have to saythat overall I enjoyed it, and the things I saw in it that were good.

The secondmovie was You Are Not I, alsodirected by Sara Driver. This film wasexcellent insight into the mind of a mental patient, from her point of view,with beautiful acting (mostly in voice-overs) by Suzanne Fletcher. There were so many things about this filmthat I loved - the way the young woman moved as if invisible through an accidentscene, the monologues, and the interactions she had with her sister andothers. This film was apparently lost atone point, so I am glad that another copy was found and is being shared withthe world.

Our thirdchoice was Finisterrae, directed bySergio Caballero. Apparently this filmbelongs to the “experimental” genre of cinema, which, not being a film student,I am not exactly sure what that means. The concept was interesting enough – two ghosts on a mission to rejointhe world of the living. I hate to saythat most of the film – its meanings and nuances, were lost on me and myhusband. My initial reaction was “you’vegot to be kidding me”, if that says anything. However, I accept that there are manythings I don’t know about film, and that this film was a vision of something Icould not properly understand. I feltthe dialogues forced, the imagery sophomoric, and I could not identify with theghosts in their quest. I did, however,like that the ghosts were depicted in white sheets – the old fashioned way forghosts to take on corporeal form. I alsoloved the scenery and cinematography. There was one scene that I felt was beautiful visually (a reindeerwalking through an unfurnished but stately house), but it had no meaning to meas far as the film was concerned.

Lastly, wesaw Jesus, Du Weisst, a documentaryby Ulrich Seidl, which follows six Catholics as they confer with Jesus. Jesus is their confessor, their psychiatrist– always silent as they unfurl their myriad problems with their relationships. I found it sad, a testament to why religionfails (self-serving and empty), but my husband found comfort in it. Despite my religious views I was entertainedby the film and the glimpse into how another culture interacts with theirreligion.

Kudos tothe film festival staff for another banner year. I’m looking forward to the documentaryfestival in March!

Idolatry

2011-10-14T01:38:00.001+03:00

On clear days I can see Mt. Olympus in all of its august glory, but on hazy days, during sunset, all I can see is the outline of its majestic peaks. This mountain bears a few millennia of Greek myth, the sacred ground of an ancient religion long dead. As a landscape it holds great beauty – from its snow-covered zenith in the winter to heavy mists in the summer – and to be there, on the mountain, is like being a million miles away from any busy metropolis. I don’t know what it is about the sleepy village that lines the pathways up the mountainside, but it has a sense of character and charm that is often drowned out by the cacophony of an overgrown populace in cities that are bursting at the seams.

I suppose it is obvious that I miss living there, on the edge of Mt. Olympus. Not all mountain villages in Greece are created equal, it seems.

Virtual reality

2011-09-23T23:30:00.004+03:00

Cityscapes in Greece tend towards the dreary and mundane. There are a few architectural gems nestled amongst the standard seven- or eight-story polikatoikia, but for the most part buildings are simply vast expanses of concrete suited to the purpose of housing multiple residences and shops. Denizens do what they can to brighten their spaces – balconies become virtual jungles, filled with potted plants and melancholy songbirds. Still, without the glamour of shopping and people-watching, walking around the city can be monotonous at best, unless you find your route along the sea. So imagine my delight when this mural sprang up on a street I frequently haunt. It is a cheerful respite from the blight of building edges, usually caked with dirt and peeling paint. It serves as a portal into an imaginary world, away from the humdrum of the city, even though its surroundings are a constant reminder of reality.

Death in the U.S.

2011-09-22T17:43:00.001+03:00

The U.S. state of Georgia might have executed an innocent man last night. It probably seems heartless under the circumstances to apply the word “might” regarding Troy Davis’ innocence, but from what I have read about the case over the past few days there is too much missing information to make a claim for innocence *or* guilt, which is why his execution is particularly troubling.

Let me be honest, I am not technically against the death penalty (no, I am *really* NOT a Republican, I swear). Personally, I feel that when a human being crosses that line to our baser selves – where killing others is a natural, pleasurable state of mind – that putting him (or her) to death is the most humane choice, both for them and society. Of course, the problem with my opinion is that it relies on certainty, and as we all know, certainty does not come easily in a court of law. Since we live in a world where people lie (criminals, victims, witnesses, lawyers, judges, statesmen, media, etc.) we have to rely on science and evidence to provide the kind of proof needed for this kind of certainty, and yet, even these things can lie.

In the case of Troy Davis, there was too much doubt for the state of Georgia to reasonably bear the burden of responsibility for ending his life, yet it happened. I have read some things that suggest the whole outcome of Mr. Davis’ trial was racially motivated, as to the truth of that, I cannot say. When such a thing happens that is so far beyond our grasp of humanity it is easy to place blame somewhere. The South is an easy target – a lingering stain of racism, the post-Civil War defeat, a wound that doesn’t seem to heal even after 150 years. Whatever the reason, perhaps it is time for the death penalty states in the U.S. to scrutinize their corporeal punishment laws and what motivates them.

What matters

2011-03-17T00:37:00.000+02:00

“The words matter”. This simple phrase was uttered by the leader of a creative writing workshop I attended many years ago, and made an indelible impact on how I have interacted with reading and writing in the years since. We were sharing our poetry with the workshop – the leader was given a stack of poems and would read them aloud. One particular poem was printed in an extravagantly elegant font on flowered paper, and after he read it our fearless leader held up the page and said, “Remember this. The words matter. Not the font, not the paper, not any graphic design surrounding the words. You have to make the words matter. If our words can’t stand alone, if our words can’t capture the attention of the reader, then we have failed as writers. Our words paint the pictures. Our words are the pretty font. Only the words matter”.

This seems particularly wise in today’s hyper-visualized world. Even the most brilliant writers have the most advanced graphic design on their websites, because without it, nobody would visit. Our lives revolve around a barrage of imagery, from the news to YouTube, to sharing pictures on Facebook or Flickr. We need the visualization, we crave it like a heroin addict craves sugar. It is the 21^st century version of the shiny baubles and keys that attracted us as children. Do the words matter anymore?

I started the blog as a writing exercise. I stopped posting for a variety of reasons, but foremost in my mind was the thought that my words no longer mattered. I had failed as a writer. Today I wonder if it was just an excuse for mental laziness, because I have always had the need to keep writing. So I will try, here and there, to keep writing for myself. Hopefully I can find a way to make the words matter.

Εντυπώσεις από το 13ο DOC FEST και από δυο ταινίες: «Νευροτυπικοί» (Neurotypical) και «Αυτιστικοί» (Autisten)

2011-03-14T19:43:00.001+02:00

Παρακολούθησα τις δυο ταινίες τη μια πίσω από την άλλη και αναρρωτιέμαι τώρα αν η διάταξή τους στο πρόγραμμα ήταν τυχαία ή κατ’ επιλογήν. Όπως και να ‘χει, η διάταξη αυτή λειτούργησε καλά: Η μια ταινία εξισορροπεί την άλλη, παρέχει την απαραίτητη «άλλη» οπτική γωνία.

Πριν συνεχίσω, δυο επισημάνσεις / προειδοποιήσεις: Διαβάζοντας παρακάτω θα μάθετε κομμάτια των ταινιών. Δε γνωρίζω πόση σημασία έχει αυτό σ’ ένα ντοκυμανταίρ, αλλά το να μη γνωρίζετε τους χαρακτήρες μπορεί να κάνει το κείμενο δυσνόητο. Επίσης, δεν έχω καμία σχέση με τον κινηματογράφο, οπότε δε θα μάθετε πολλά (ή ακριβή) γύρω από τις τεχνικές αρετές των ταινιών.

Το θέμα των ταινιών είναι ο αυτισμός, ή έτσι φαίνεται αρχικά, μια έννοια τόσο ταλαιπωρημένη όσο και άλλες που δυσκολευόμαστε να τις περιγράψουμε και να τις κατανοήσουμε. Η λέξη ξεκίνησε τη ζωή της ως κλινικός όρος, πέρασε ένα μεγάλο διάστημα ως λέξη ταμπού (ή βρισιά) και τώρα σιγά σιγά εξελίσσεται σε μετάλλιο για γονείς, των οποίων τα παιδιά μπορεί να πάσχουν από ένα σωρό πράγματα – ή και οχι. Το θέμα των ταινιών είναι ο αυτισμός, αλλά εμμέσως. Το άμεσο, το ζωντανό «εδώ και τώρα» των δυο ντοκυμανταίρ αποτελούν οι άνθρωποι. Γονείς και παιδιά, «διεγνωσμένοι» και μη, «έγκλειστοι» ή «ελεύθεροι», όλοι μιλούν στην κάμερα και μας λένε την άποψή τους, για το τί τους συμβαίνει – αλλά και για το τί συμβαίνει σ’ εμάς.

Η ταινία «Νευροτυπικοί» του Adam Larsen (www.neuro-typical.com) φαίνεται να παρουσιάζει πιο οικείους ανθρώπους. «Αυτιστικούς» που μας κάνουν ν’ αναρρωτιόμαστε «καλά, αυτός είναι αυτιστικός;» και «μήπως είμαι κι’ εγώ;». Φέρνει τα πάνω κάτω λοιπόν, αποφεύγει τις κλινικές ταμπέλες, παίζει με τα όρια του φυσιολογικού και μας ενημερώνει οτι «τραγικά, έως 149 στους 150 ανθρώπους μπορεί να είναι νευροτυπικοί». Είναι εύκολο να σταματήσουμε στο παιχνίδι αυτό, στη γλύκα της Violet, στην «τυπική» σχεδόν εφηβεία του Nicholas, στην συναρπαστική νεα ταυτότητα της Paula και να φύγουμε από την αίθουσα γεμάτοι βεβαιότητες και ζεστασιά. Ο Larsen δεν μας το επιτρέπει. Ευγενικά μας σφυροκοπά από την αρχή ακόμα. Τα λόγια της μητέρας του Taylor στοιχειώνουν την ταινία, μαζί με τις μουσικές του πατέρα της Violet. Οι ίδιοι οι πρωταγωνιστές παραθέτουν τις δυσκολίες τους και έτσι δεν μας επιτρέπουν το «ζήσαν αυτοί καλά κι εμείς καλύτερα», μια ρόδινη παράσταση πασπαλισμένη με άχνη. Παραμένουμε στην πραγματικότητα – ντοκυμανταίρ άλλωστε – και στο «έχουμε καλές μέρες και έχουμε και κακές».

Δια της ταινίας έχουμε την τύχη ν’ ακούσουμε ανθρώπους να περιγράφουν αυτό που βιώνουν με όρους νευροτυπικών. Ο Wolf, ο Michael (ας με συγχωρεί αν θυμάμαι λάθος το όνομα), o John, άνθρωποι υψηλής ευφυίας αλλά το κυριότερο στοχαστές της ζωής και αυτιστικοί. Ο Michael με το παραπλανητικά γελαστό του ύφος μας λέει πόσο δύσκολες είναι οι σχέσεις, χωρίς να μας πονά, χωρίς να μας επιτίθεται. Ο John, (υπερ)αναλύοντας ένα παιδικό παιχνίδι, μας διδάσκει για τη ζωή, τη ζωή «μας», όχι τη ζωή «του αυτιστικού». Ο Wolf, τέλος, χωρίς να μας «δαγκώσει το κεφάλι», μας χτυπά με αμείλικτα ερωτήματα. Για μας ο Μόγλης φεύγει από τη ζούγκλα για ένα καλύτερο κόσμο. Γι’ αυτόν όμως η ζούγκλα είναι το σπίτι του, ένα σπίτι πιο όμορφο, πιο λειτουργικό και τελικά πιο οικείο από τις παράξενες τσιμεντουπόλεις που εμείς οι νευροτυπικοί έχουμε συνηθίσει. Οι άνθρωποι της ταινίας μας προειδοποιούν ενάντια στη «νεα ευγονική»: Αν χάσουμε τον αυτισμό, μήπως χάσουμε σε ιδιοφυία, σε δημιουργικότητα και τελικά: σε ανθρωπιά;

Διάλειμμα, καφές, τσιγάρα, αγορά του νέου εισιτηρίου – «να μείνουμε ή να φύγουμε; Είναι 11 η ώρα». Τα φώτα χαμηλώνουν και αρχίζει το «Αυτιστικοί» του Wolfram Seeger (www.exit-seeger.de).

Η ταινία «Αυτιστικοί» λειτουργεί αντίθετα από αυτήν του Larsen. Εδώ οι άνθρωποι είναι «διεγνωσμένοι» και ζουν στο οικοτροφείο Haus Bucken (www.haus-bucken.de) . Οπτικά μοιάζει με επίθεση στις αισθήσεις. Άνθρωποι στο μπάνιο, στο φαγητό, στο ντύσιμο. Άνθρωποι με κρίσεις, με παράξενη συμπεριφορά, που δεν επικοινωνούν. Άνθρωποι, τέλος, που χρειάζεται να φορούν κράνος και να δένονται στο κρεββάτι, για να μη τραυματιστούν. Παρά το όμορφο περιβάλλον, ήταν προφανές στα πρόσωπα του κοινού τι σκεφτόταν. Σοκ, τρόφιμοι, έγκλειστοι, κολαστήριο, λύπη, οίκτος, φρίκη. Εξορκισμός. Μακριά από μας.

Η ταινία του Seeger είναι τόσο πικρή, όσο ήταν γλυκιά αυτή του Larsen. Αν μπορέσουμε να δούμε πέρα από το εξωτερικό των ανθρώπων του Haus Bucken, που σημαίνει αν μπορέσουμε να σπάσουμε τις δικές μας αλυσίδες, τις αλυσίδες της μισαλλοδοξίας, της πουριτανικής ψευτοαξιοπρέπειας, της νοσοφοβίας, θα μας ανοιχθεί ένας πολύ διαφορετικός κόσμος. Σαφώς ένας κόσμος δύσκολος. Ένας κόσμος που δίνει μια απάντηση στο «ευγονική ή οχι» της ταινίας του Larsen. Ένας κόσμος που μας θυμίζει οτι για κάθε ένα «λειτουργικό αυτιστικό» υπάρχουν δέκα (εκατό;) που λειτουργούν δυσκολότερα. Μας θυμίζει οτι μπορεί να μη μιλάμε καν για το ίδιο φαινόμενο – ας μη ξεχνάμε οτι η διάγνωση γίνεται με ένα αδρό μέτρο του φαίνεσθαι και οχι αιτιολογικά. Μας θυμίζει οτι πολύ λίγα πράγματα ξέρουμε για τον ανθρώπινο εγκέφαλο.

Το πιο εκπληκτικό στην ταινία «Αυτιστικοί», όμως, δεν είναι όλα τα λίγο – πολύ κλινικά που παρατέθηκαν παραπάνω. Το πιο εκπληκτικό είναι πάλι οι άνθρωποι και οι ανατροπές που προκαλούν. Οι άνθρωποι του Haus Bucken που παρ’ οτι μοιάζουν «έγκλειστοι» και παγιδευμένοι σ’ ένα σώμα που δυσλειτουργεί, επικοινωνούν ελεύθερα! Αντιλαμβάνονται τον Seeger και την κάμερα, συνομιλούν μ’ αυτόν – οχι πάντα λεκτικά – και τελικά αφηγούνται την ιστορία τους μέσα από το παιχνίδι, την αλληγορία, τον ιδιότυπο συμβολισμό και τη γλώσσα του σώματος.

Είναι ευκολότερο να το δούμε αυτό στον Christian, ένα παιδί πέντε και ογδόντα χρονών, που αγαπά τα Duplo και το κεφάλι της μητέρας του. Δυσκολεύει κάπως με τη Marlen, η οποία μοιάζει να παίζει συνεχώς με ένα ροζ φλαμίγκο και να λέει παράξενα πράγματα, όπως «δαγκώνει; δε δαγκώνει» και «ζει! είναι ζωντανό!». Αν κάνουμε μια μικρή αυθαιρεσία και υποθέσουμε οτι το φλαμίγκο αναπαριστά εκείνην, τα παράξενα πράγματα αποκτούν αίφνης νόημα. Μας φωνάζει «ζω! είμαι εδώ!». Μας λέει οτι δεν είναι επικίνδυνη, δε δαγκώνει, αν και της έρχεται που και που – σε ποιόν από μας δεν έρχεται; Δείχνει μεγάλη συνείδηση της πραγματικότητας δε, όταν πολύ συγκινητικά μας λεει για το φλαμίγκο οτι «έχει τραυματιστεί, έχει χτυπήσει το φτερό της».

Τα πράγματα δυσκολεύουν περισσότερο. Ο Lars δεν μιλάει παρά ελάχιστα. Χωρίς λόγο πώς να προσεγγίσεις κάποιον; Είναι ο Lars λοιπόν αυτός που προσεγγίζει – και απομακρύνεται. Κοιτά την κάμερα περιπαικτικά, ποζάρει «άγρια» με το τσεκούρι (με το οποίο κάνει ξυλογλυπτική και δεν είναι ο «σχιζοφρενής με το τσεκούρι», μια ακόμα εικόνα που μας δένει με τις προκαταλήψεις μας), μας δείχνει κομμάτια της καθημερινότητάς του, την αγάπη του για τον καφέ – καπουτσίνο κατά προτίμηση – και στο τέλος, όταν πια έχει πει ο’τι ήθελε, καλύπτει το πρόσωπό του με τη μπλούζα του – «τελείωσα, ο’τι καταλάβατε καταλάβατε».

Ο Hannes; Οχι μόνο δε μιλάει, αλλά πια προσεγγίζει στο έπακρο την εκλαϊκευμένη εικόνα του αυτιστικού, του «καθυστερημένου». Επαναλαμβάνει κινήσεις αενάως, μουγκρίζει, δυσκολεύεται να φάει, χρειάζεται βοήθεια στο μπάνιο. Κινητοποιεί το κοινό – «εισβάλλουμε στην ιδιωτικότητά του». Εννοούμε οτι αυτός εισβάλλει στην ψυχική μας γαλήνη, ο φακός τον φέρνει πιο κοντά απ’ ότι θέλουμε, είναι πιο καλά να νομίζουμε οτι δεν υπάρχουν τέτοιοι άνθρωποι. Και έπειτα; Βλέπουμε τον Hannes να πλησιάζει και να γέρνει το κεφάλι του επάνω στο μουσικοθεραπευτή που παίζει στην κιθάρα του ένα όμορφο, ίσως λίγο λυπημένο μοτίβο, επαναλαμβανόμενο κυκλικά, ασφαλές και συναρπαστικό. Μετά από λίγο το πλάνο αλλάζει, ο Hannes είναι ξαπλωμένος στο κρεββάτι του, φαίνεται να κινεί τα δάχτυλα των χεριών και των ποδιών του κυματιστά και να μουγκρίζει. Οχι. Παίζει μουσική και τραγουδά.

Επιτέλους φτάνουμε στο τέλος, στον πάτο. Ο Jörg αποκλείεται να καταλαβαίνει και να επικοινωνεί. Κοιμάται δεμένος στο κρεββάτι του, χτυπά, δαγκώνει, ουρλιάζει. Μη μας τον δείχνετε! Η εικόνα είναι δύσκολη, απελπισία. Ίσως αν τον βλέπαμε μέσα από ένα πρίσμα, μέσα από κάτι που να φιλτράρει το σοκ, σαν μια έκλειψη ηλίου: Να τη δούμε μέσα από ένα φακό για να μη μας καταστρέψει τα μάτια. Ο φακός είναι το προσωπικό του Haus Bucken και αν θέλετε κατ’ επέκταση κάθε άνθρωπος που έρχεται σ’ επαφή με τους Jörg του κόσμου. Στα μάτια τους βλέπουμε την απογοήτευση από την δυσκολία στην επικοινωνία, αλλά οχι απελπισία, οχι οίκτο, παραίτηση. Του πιάνουν τα χέρια για να τον κουρέψει η κομμώτρια, αλλά γενικώς τον αφήνουν να είναι. Να υπάρχει με τον τρόπο του. Όταν δαγκώσει του καθιστούν σαφές οτι αυτός ο τρόπος επικοινωνίας δε συμβαδίζει με τις νόρμες των «νευροτυπικών» και βλέπουμε οτι απλώνει το χέρι να χτυπήσει αλλά επιλέγει να μη το κάνει – η το στρέφει στον εαυτό του.

Δυσκολεύομαι να χωρίσω τις ταινίες, να θυμηθώ ποιός χαρακτήρας εμφανίζεται που, ποιός λέει τι. Ίσως να είναι η περασμένη ώρα και η κούραση, ή ίσως να λέει κι αυτό κάτι. Το αυτονόητο, δηλαδή. Δεν είμαστε όλοι ίδιοι και η διαφορετικότητα είναι δύσκολη. Όμως είμαστε όλοι κομμάτια του ίδιου συνόλου, οι βασικές μας ανάγκες είναι ίδιες και όλοι μας επικοινωνούμε. Ο αυτισμός μας προκαλεί να τον κατανοήσουμε, να κατανοήσουμε μια ξένη γλώσσα που όμως μιλιέται μόνο από έναν άνθρωπο κάθε φορά και περιέχει σύμβολα ανοίκεια σ’ εμάς τους «άλλους», τους παρά-ξενους.

Impressions of the 13th DOCFEST: Neurotypical and Autisten

2011-03-14T00:08:00.002+02:00

I watched the two films back to back and now I wonder if they were scheduled in succession by design or by chance. Be that as it may, it worked: One film counterbalances the other and supplies a much needed “other” viewpoint.

The main theme of both films is autism, or it seems to be thus initially. A concept so battered and bruised, as many others which we have a hard time defining and understanding. The word started its life as a clinical term, then spent years in darkness as a word – taboo (or a curse word) and now gradually is becoming a patch of honor for parents whose children may be suffering of an array of things – or nothing. The main theme of the films is autism, but indirectly. The direct, living “here and now” of both documentaries are the people. Parents and children, “diagnosed” and not, “committed” or “free”, they all talk to the camera and tell us their version of what is happening to them – but also of what is happening to us.

Neurotypical, by Adam Larsen (www.neuro-typical.com) seems to present people closer to what we are used to in “normal” life. “Autistics” who make us wonder “what? He’s autistic?!” and “could I be too?” Larsen topples our preconceptions, avoids clinical labels, dances around the borders of normalcy and informs us that “tragically, as many as 149 out of every 150 people might be neurotypical”. It would be easy to stop there, content with the playfulness of the movie, happy with Violet’s sweetness, Nicholas’ almost “typical” teenage angst, Paula’s exciting new-found identity. We could leave the theatre full of certainties and fuzzy warm feelings. Larsen does not allow us to. Gently he hammers us right from the beginning. The words of Taylor’s mother haunt us throughout the film, along with Violet’s dad’s eerie music. The protagonists themselves lay out their difficulties and do not allow us our happy ending of “they lived happily ever after”. We remain grounded in reality – it is a documentary after all – and in the end “we have good days and we have bad days”.

The film affords us the rare opportunity to hear people describe what they are experiencing, in neurotypical terms। Wolf, Michael (who I hope will forgive me if I remember his name incorrectly), John, people of high intelligence, but even more importantly thinkers, philosophers, wordsmiths and autistics। Michael, with his misleadingly cheerful disposition describes for us how hard relationships are, without attacking us, without hurting us. John (hyper)analyzes the game of “tag” and teaches lessons about life – “our” life, not “autistic” life. Wolf, finally, without “biting our head off” slams us with hard questions. For us, Mowgli leaves the jungle for a better world. To him, the jungle is his home, a home more beautiful, functional and in the end a home that makes sense; wherein he makes sense. Finally, we are warned against “new eugenics”: If we “cure” autism, would we be diminished in genius, in creativity and ultimately – humanity?

Intermission, coffee, cigarettes, buy tickets for the next show – “should we stay or should we go? It’s 11 o’ clock”. The lights dim and Wolfram Seeger’s “Autisten” begins (www.exit-seeger.de).

This film seems to be the opposite of Larsen’s. Seeger’s people are “diagnosed” and live in a “home”, Haus Bucken (www.haus-bucken.de). Visually it seems to be an assault to the senses. Human beings in the bathroom, eating, getting dressed. Human beings in crisis, exhibiting odd behavior, not communicating. Human beings, finally, who have to wear a helmet and be strapped to a bed in order to avoid injury. Despite the beauty of the surrounding landscape, it was obvious from the faces of the audience what was going through our heads. Shock, inmates, incarcerated, hell on earth, sadness, pity, horror. Rituals of undoing: Keep it all away from us.

Seeger’s film is as bitter as Larsen’s is sweet। If we can see past the exterior, which means if we can break our own chains, chains of preconceptions, of puritanical pseudo-indignation, our own fear of dis-ease, a new world will unfold before our eyes. Granted, a hard world, a world that does give one answer to Larsen’s “eugenics or not”. A world that reminds us that for every “high functioning” autistic there exist ten (a hundred?), who do not function as well. Reminds us that we may not even be talking about the same phenomenon – let’s not forget that we “diagnose” people by a rough yardstick of what is manifest and not by causality. Reminds us how little we know about the human brain.

What is amazing in “Autisten” has nothing to do with any clinical reality. It is the people who are amazing and their constant challenge of what we take for granted. The people of Haus Bucken, even though they seem to be enclosed by its walls, trapped in a body that malfunctions, communicate freely! They perceive Seeger and the camera, hold a dialogue with both – not always verbally – and in the end tell their story through play, allegory, a sui generis symbolism and body language.

This is easiest to observe in Christian, a child both five and eighty years old, who loves Duplo and his mother’s head। It gets somewhat harder with Marlen, a girl who constantly plays with a pink flamingo and utters strange things like “does it bite? It doesn’t bite” and “it’s alive! It lives”. If we allow ourselves a small, arbitrary shift and look at the flamingo as a representation of Marlen herself, all the strange things suddenly make sense. She is there, shouting at the top of her voice “I live! I am here!” She tells us, that she’s not dangerous, she doesn’t bite even though sometimes she gets the urge to – who doesn’t? She exhibits amazing insight and frank intelligence when she movingly holds her flamingo and exclaims “she’s been hurt, her wing is injured”.

It gets harder. Lars hardly speaks at all. Without speech how do you approach someone? Well, it’s Lars who does the approaching – and the receding. He looks mischievously at the camera, he poses “menacingly” with his hatchet (which he uses to sculpt wood and not hurt people, but he just had to challenge our perception of the “crazy axe murderer”), he shows us snippets of his day to day life, his love of coffee – cappuccino please! – and in the end, when he’s said his piece, he covers his face with his shirt – “I’m done talking, I’ve given you all I care to”.

What about Hannes? Not only does he not speak, but he comes as close to the popularized इमागे of the “autistic”, the “retarded” person as can be। He moans, rocks back and forth, has trouble eating, needs help in the bathroom. He certainly motivates the audience – “we are invading his privacy!” What we mean is that he is invading our peace of mind, the lens brings him way closer than we want him to be, it’s better to believe that such people do not exist. And then we see Hannes approaching and tilting his head, resting it on the music therapist’s shoulder, listening to him play a beautiful, perhaps slightly sad motif, circular, repetitive, safe and exciting. In the next scene Hannes is lying on his bed and seems to be moving his fingers and toes in a wavy manner, he seems to be moaning. No. He’s playing music and singing to us.

Finally we’ve reached the bottom though. It is impossible that Jörg understands anything, that he communicates. He sleeps tied to his bed, he hits, bites, screams. Do not show him! The image is harsh, desperate. If only we could see Jörg through a prism, through a filter, something to ameliorate the shock, just as we would do with a solar eclipse; use a piece of glass to shield our eyes, our souls. The filter is none other than the personnel of Haus Bucken and if you will, all people who work with the Jörgs of the world. In their eyes we do see disappointment sometimes, we see how hard it is to communicate, but we do not see despair, pity, resignation. They restrain his hands so Jörg can get a haircut, but for the most part they let him be. In his own way. When he bites his caretakers make it clear, that this specific way of communicating does not conform to our neurotypical world. We see Jörg reach out to strike, but he chooses not to – or he chooses to hit himself. His choice.

I am having trouble telling the films apart, remembering which character appears where and who says what. Perhaps it is the late hour, the torpor of the night. Or perhaps that is in itself significant. We are not all the same and individuality is tough. “It’s a handful, but not a burden”. We are parts of the same whole, we have the same needs and we all communicate. Autism challenges us to understand it, to understand an alien language, spoken by only one person, in symbols none of us have ever seen before. A world where it is we who are alien, strange, uncanny.

Radiance

2010-07-11T21:22:00.002+03:00

O setting sun
O passing day
The colors run
a bright array
And though the night
will close your eyes
All's set aright
by Dawn's sweet rise

Sisyphus

2010-06-24T21:22:00.000+03:00

When you live your life with a chronic illness you often find yourself fighting battles of different intensities from one day to the next. A lot of “healthy” people often assume that it is the big battles that are the hardest – the long hospitalizations, the flare-ups, surgeries – yet those fights can be relatively easy. In big battles you end up putting all your energy into trying to survive and you know the cost of defeat from the beginning. I find that it is the little battles I struggle most with – day to day living with pain, fatigue, taking new medications (with new side effects), limitations, sun exposure...the list can be quite endless if you spend too much time thinking about it.

My latest Sisyphean challenge involves a new medication that I have recently started taking because my kidneys are refusing to cooperate fully with their natural filtration process. I did give my kidneys a stern talking to, but unlike me they seem to be stuck in a perpetual teenaged state of defiance. This drug can encompass a host of side-effects, some of which I have already enjoyed in just a week of my daily dose. It started with headaches for the first four days (which have thankfully waned, as the drug brochure promised), and has now erupted into waves of extreme fatigue, frequent bruising, and some additional joint pain (honestly, one can never have enough joint pain). I am now also more prone to infection and contracting common ailments. The icing on this side effect cake is that I will have to take blood tests every few weeks to make sure the medication isn’t causing more extreme bodily harm.

Basically, I went from someone who was feeling relatively healthy, with lots of energy and hardly any pain to someone who is constantly tired and in pain – all to fix a small problem with my kidneys. I once again managed to push that rock all the way to the top of the hill, only to have it tumble back down. The Greeks never realized how much their mythical punishments mimicked real life. Or maybe they did. The only difference is I know this isn’t a punishment, it is just the way things are for anyone who fights a chronic illness.

So I fight this small battle like I have fought numerous ones before and no doubt will in the future. I will come out the victor, of that I am certain. And if I am lucky, I will have a moment to sit on my rock and listen to Orpheus’ beautiful song before the battle starts all over again.

Tempest

2010-06-19T22:53:00.002+03:00

There's always a period of curious fear between the first sweet-smelling breeze and the time when the rain comes cracking down. ~Don Delillo

Twilight

2010-06-07T14:05:00.002+03:00

"Parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till--'tis gone--and all is gray." ~Lord Byron

Pictures of birds with that WTF? look on their faces

2010-06-05T00:04:00.002+03:00

These pictures are really horrible to look at, but it sure puts the oil "spill" (deluge?) into perspective.

Thankfully, BP is taking some responsibility and is funding the rescue efforts of the International Bird Rescue Research Center. They accept donations, but are urging people to send donations to their local wildlife rehabilitation organizations. As the folks at the IBRRC put it, "A pelican is a pelican whether is it tangled in fishing tackle or oiled!"

This is not a post meant to criticize or shame big oil, or the use of oil, or anything like that. It is simply that the things humans do that destroy wildlife on such a large scale make me very sad. This planet belongs to all living things, and despite their (apparent) lack of sentience, animals and plants deserve to be here just as much as we do.

Proof that I married a geek

2010-06-01T16:09:00.003+03:00

Somehow my husband managed to dig up his old Amiga from the depths of his parents' summer house, and to our surprise, it still worked! They just don't make 'em like they used to.

Butterflies

2010-05-31T21:02:00.000+03:00

I’ve always heard people say something along the lines of “if you’ve lived with something your whole life, it isn’t so hard to accept it”. This phrase has usually come up in discussions about such devastating things as poverty, illness, blindness – you get the picture. I guess it makes people feel better to think that this statement is true, when the reality is that it is not.

I’ve had Systemic Lupus Erythematosus for so long that I really don’t remember what “normal” life was like. I started getting sick at age 2 and was finally diagnosed when I was 7, and we all know our memories of those early years are difficult to access (perhaps in deep psychoanalysis, but I neither have the time, money, nor inclination to embark on such an endeavor). So let me tell you, living day in and day out with this disease, even with no memory of what it is like to not be sick, is not easy.

For the past 18 years I’ve been relatively lucky, with no serious hospitalizations or flare-ups of the illness. I maintain my health with a minimum of medication, although if I go too many days without that medication I feel it. It is easy to gain a measure of confidence when you go so long without complications – to feel invincible – as if you can walk right up to the precipice and jump to find yourself flying instead of falling. With Lupus it always seems that it is at that exact moment, mid-flight, that everything changes and you begin to fall again. You can feel perfectly healthy one day and unable to get out of bed the next. Always you have Damocles’ sword hanging over you, dangling, threatening flare-ups, kidney failure, neurological damage, and a host of other problems. You never have power over your own health – the best you can do is take care of yourself and hope that things work out for the best instead of the worst.

This is what I wish most people were more aware of when it comes to knowledge of Lupus. There is no one state of being with this illness. We aren’t always withering away in our beds. We are strong, we are happy, we are living our lives as well as we can. And if we are very lucky, there is always someone at the bottom of the precipice to catch us.

Today is the last day of Lupus Awareness Month. Learn the facts by visiting the Lupus Foundation of America website. Pass it on.

Sea at sunset, Halkidiki

2010-05-29T15:50:00.001+03:00

Sea at sunset, Halkidiki
Originally uploaded by melusinagr

The beach at Nikiti in Halkidiki is one of my favorite places in Greece. It makes a nice weekend getaway for anyone who lives in and around Thessaloniki. The shops aren't too touristy and there are some truly exceptional restaurants (Grada and Kyani Akti to name a couple) - with reasonable prices.

However, my biggest battle when it comes to places like this in Greece is with the sun. Living with lupus means I can't just run out to the beach any time I want, I have to plan my outings in the early morning or just before the sun goes down. For the most part I don't mind, as these are quite peaceful times to go to the beach. Still, sometimes I wish I could just go be in the sun without worrying about getting sick. During the day it can really bring me down, but by the time I get out into the early evening and see the sea looking like this, it seems just as beautiful as it does during the day.

A rose by any other name is just as sweet

2010-05-27T15:37:00.001+03:00

The rose
Originally uploaded by melusinagr

Sea side

2010-05-26T22:17:00.001+03:00

DSC02400
Originally uploaded by melusinagr

It seems I've been at a loss for words lately - I'm always either too tired, too grumpy, or too disenchanted with the way things are in the world. Since I take a lot of pictures, I'll let them tell my stories now and then, at least until I have something to say.

Oh deathless sea, tell what you are whispering*

2010-05-17T23:20:00.003+03:00

*Quote from the poem "I lived the beloved name..." by Odysseas Elytis

Lupus Awareness

2010-05-17T11:28:00.005+03:00

I've shared the story of my life with Systemic Lupus Erythematosus here before. Now Lupus Awareness month falls in May, and I feel that even though I'm not keeping up with the blog as regularly as I used to, I need to promote awareness and help to quell some falsehoods that might have arisen during the Miss USA pageant last night.

It seems that during the Miss USA pageant, Morgan Woolard, the runner up for Miss America (from Oklahoma), claimed that she cured herself of Lupus. Obviously, this is impossible (unless she had drug-induced lupus, which is a bit misleading). Spreading false information like this in such a public forum hurts the efforts of all of us who are working towards promoting awareness for Lupus, and it belittles those of us who have been fighting this illness day in and day out. Spread the word...learn the facts about Lupus at the Lupus Foundation of America website.

I live in Greece, so I did not have the opportunity to watch the pageant first-hand. I only heard about Ms. Woolard's claims from scores of angry Lupus patients across the internet. Still, misinformation is no way to promote awareness, especially when it is estimated that around 80% of the public knows very little or nothing about Lupus - and so I wanted to share the facts.

From the Lupus Foundation of America website:

It is true that medical science has not yet developed a method for curing lupus. And some people do die from the disease. However, people with non-organ threatening aspects of lupus can look forward to a normal lifespan if they:

follow the instructions of their physician,

take their medication(s) as prescribed, and

know when to seek help for unexpected side effects of a medication or a new manifestation of their lupus.

Although some people with lupus have severe recurrent attacks and are frequently hospitalized, most people with lupus rarely require hospitalization. There are many lupus patients who never have to be hospitalized, especially if they are careful and follow their physician's instructions.

New research brings unexpected findings each year. The progress made in treatment and diagnosis during the last decade has been greater than that made over the past 100 years. It is therefore a sensible idea to maintain control of a disease that tomorrow may be curable.

Please spread the word and Band Together for Lupus!

Sumer is icumen in

2010-04-25T14:01:00.002+03:00

Sumer is icumen in,
Lhude sing cuccu!
Groweþ sed and bloweþ med

And springþ þe wde nu,
Sing cuccu!
Awe bleteþ after lomb,
Lhouþ after calue cu.
Bulluc sterteþ, bucke uerteþ,
Murie sing cuccu!
Cuccu, cuccu, wel singes þu cuccu;

Ne swik þu nauer nu.
Pes:

Sing cuccu nu. Sing cuccu.
Sing cuccu. Sing cuccu nu!

Summer has come in,
Loudly sing, Cuckoo!
The seed grows and the meadow
blooms
And the wood springs anew,
Sing, Cuckoo!
The ewe bleats after the lamb
The cow lows after the calf.
The bullock stirs, the stag farts,
Merrily sing, Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo, well you sing,
cuckoo;
Don't you ever stop now,

Sing cuckoo now. Sing, Cuckoo.
Sing Cuckoo. Sing cuckoo now!

Easter

2010-04-07T21:01:00.000+03:00

München

2010-03-13T02:26:00.030+02:00

Oy, 5am. This is not a good time to wake up for someone who is unequivocally NOT a morning person. Yet there I was, rising and shining, running around like a decapitated chicken doing last minute things so we could our cab to the airport for our trip to Munich. Of course we ended up at the airport much earlier than we needed to be – which was ok because security was a breeze. Two of my husband’s colleagues had already arrived and we all sat around drinking coffee and juice and pretending we didn’t really want to be sleeping (or maybe that was just me). If I thought a 5am awakening was bad, you can imagine the bile rising in my throat as wave after wave of psychiatrists started arriving at the airport. Since we had booked our own flight, I didn’t necessarily think we’d be on the same plane as all the shrinks that were being sponsored by big pharma. Unfortunately, that was the case, as my husband joked about all the immediate openings there would be for young psychiatrists in Thessaloniki if this plane went down.

Ah, Munich. The weather was quite temperate when we emerged from the airport, despite the predictions from Germany-savvy travelers that it would likely be cold and snowy. What a luxury to be able to take the subway from the airport to a station (Hauptbahnhof) a block from our hotel! We stayed at Hotel Meier, which is on a lovely pedestrian walkway, and more importantly right next to a Starbucks.

It was only 11am when we arrived, but the hotel gladly accommodated us by giving us an early check in, which was awesome because I needed a nap. When we woke up in the afternoon the first order of business was lunch – my husband wanted (no, demanded!) German sausages. We explored the area around our hotel fully expecting a decent place to lunch, to no avail. It was all fast food of various ethnicities, but no sausages, so we went back down to the subway station (which had a plethora of bakeries and sausages) and got some there. We did, however, see the Justizpalast while we were walking around, so at least that was something.

Later in the evening, we decided to get more adventurous. We took the subway to Marienplatz, a popular square in the city center. We were greeted by an anti-psychiatry rally being held in the square (this organization is apparently linked to this one). We had seen them before, marching through the streets with their sign and their cart depicting miserable tied up crazy people. They claim psychiatry is an industry of death and that there are no real psychiatric conditions, just somatic problems that can all be cured with vitamins and exercise. If only. There are things about psychiatry I don’t like (particularly tying up patients), but I don’t work with patients every day and I really don’t know what is necessary and I certainly don’t have the medical background to judge. While this group makes no claim towards Scientology I find it rather interesting that their beliefs regarding psychiatry seem to be exactly the same as Scientologists. Thanos, always in an effort to be fair, actually visited their “museum” at one point in our trip and had an interesting discussion with the people there. Certainly there are issues to debate, but I think we can be grateful that there are doctors like my husband out there working hard every day to address these issues and try to make life better for psychiatric patients.

One of the most fabulous aspects of Munich is the architecture and Marienplatz houses one of the most stunning examples in the Neues Rathaus. The details on this building are amazing, and can be seen in pictures here, here, here, here, and here.

Also off Marientplatz is the Altes Rathaus and Spielzeugmuseum.

Just around the corner you can find the Frauenkirche, unfortunately you aren’t allowed to take pictures inside.

I wanted to see Michaelskirche but, as things always go for me, it was undergoing renovation and covered up. To be fair, the covering had the outline of what it is supposed to look like, and I have no idea why I did not take a picture. We finally strolled down Neuhauser past the church and searched for a place to eat, and we finally came upon a nice family restaurant called Bohne & Malz, which is apparently a small chain in Munich.

Sunday was a day of rest for me as Thanos had to go to the convention at 8am to put up his poster and enjoy a day of psychiatric lectures. I slept in and then went to Starbucks to have a coffee and people watch. After meeting Thanos for lunch I decided to go back to the conference center with him for shits and giggles (and to see another area of Munich).

Sunday evening we made our way back to Marienplatz to find a good old fashioned Bavarian tavern. We went to Weisses Braühaus, which was recommended in our city guide. I had a fine Pils and my first wiener schnitzel. Yummy!

Monday we went to the Deutsches Museum, which covers pretty much all science and technology from the earliest inventions to the present. It is a huge museum and will definitely require another visit. Plenty of pictures can be found here.

By Monday evening we found our favorite Germany bakery – Rischart (where else?) on Marienplatz. I discovered something dangerous called butter cake. I’m glad I don’t live in Germany. We attended a pharma dinner at a restaurant at Residenz, the site of the residence of the former Bavarian kings, which was mostly destroyed in WWII. The rebuild is impressive but a bit disappointing. Like some kind of idiot, I didn’t have my camera with me that night, so I missed taking pictures.

Tuesday we had a late flight, so we asked the hotel for a late check out and spent the day shopping at two of Germany’s fine department stores – Karstadt and Kaufhof. We were so tired by the time we got on the plane, we were ready to be home.

Munich is a fabulous city, full of things to see and do, with friendly people and beautiful scenery. I intend to go back more than once, and highly recommend it to everyone!

The five stages

2010-02-03T23:17:00.002+02:00

A month ago, one of our dear cats died. Princeton was 14 years old, an old cat, to be sure. I just wasn’t ready to lose him yet. I was in denial about his condition for two months as he lost weight (he went from 9 kilos to 3.5 kilos), thinking if I can just fatten him up again he would be all right. I should have prepared myself better, because his quiet death in my arms was more than I could bear.

He was a king among cats. He was my friend, my guardian, and my companion. He accompanied me on the biggest journey of my life. He was freakish, and silly, and had a bad case of obsessive compulsive disorder. Now he is gone, and my heart is empty in his absence. I will cherish my memories of him, and move on.

Meow old friend. Meow.

Princeton
1995-2010

Bloghead revisited

2010-01-31T19:57:00.001+02:00

I know, I know. I haven’t written anything useful (or not useful for that matter) here for a long, long time. I’m not really sure I have a good explanation, except that my Greek life has become a bit mundane.

Going back to the States wasn’t as bad as I feared. One thing I did realize is that I have become overly accustomed to how things are in Greece – so much so that I was constantly amazed at how easy some things are in the U.S., and how friendly people are there. Did I always take these things for granted?

Yet, as much as I long to be near my friends and family again (and to see my niece more often than every seven years) and as wonderful as life in America seems to be, the U.S. is no longer my home. I was most acutely aware of this when my brother-in-law was driving us up the long, winding slope on our way back from the airport. A couple of miles away our house came into view, nestled against the side of the mountain. I felt happiness and relief. This is the place where I belong, at least for now.

It is a phase in my ex-pat life I never really expected. To some Greeks I am still ξένος (and will always be), but for me, Greece is home.

I'm afraid of Americans

2009-07-30T13:52:00.001+03:00

Tomorrow I will set foot on U.S. soil for the first time in seven years. I am a bit apprehensive about it for a couple of reason: first, will I love it so much I won't want to return to Greece, and second, will it be the same?

When I left the U.S. I was ready to get the hell out of dodge. Not for any particular reason, it was just if I was going to stagnate somewhere I might as well experience a change of scenery. Yet when I left I was an American through and through. I felt appropriate fear towards terrorist threats, appropriate disdain towards uncouth European ideals, appropriate entitlement from my American roots, and my mind was as closed as a nun wearing a chastity belt. Everything I knew about the world outside of the U.S. was pretty much stereotype perpetuated by the media and the curse of growing up American during the Cold War.

Now, after living in a European country (barely) for 7 years, I no longer feed on media fear, I no longer have disdain for Europeans, and I sure as hell no longer have any sense of entitlement. My mind is more open, and I know more about news of the world than I do news of the U.S. (except, of course, for what is going on with regard to Michael Jackson's death). If I didn't know better, I'd think I had the same general malaise of thought with regard to Americans as many Europeans do. But that can't be right. I'm an American!

Perhaps it is fitting that I will start my trip in the nation's capital. As I stroll around the streets of Washington, D.C., perhaps I will form a new idea of what America means to me. But I'm not certain it is still the place I would call home.

Electricity

2009-06-19T12:21:00.002+03:00

From our mountain we have a pretty good vantage point for watching storms as they approach from the sea and surround the city. Here is an example of a spectacular show we had the other night.

Zeus was certainly in full regalia for this one. This photo from the storm is probably my favorite - from the angry swells of clouds, to the lightening strike illuminating the sea.

Lamb fight

2009-04-24T22:50:00.002+03:00

One of the best things about living in such a bucolic setting is the spring, when the herds are always full of little ones. Lambs are the cutest things, especially when they start to play. We caught these two while filming the flock the other day.

Christos Anesti

2009-04-19T21:42:00.001+03:00

Spring???

2009-03-22T17:15:00.002+02:00

This was how I enjoyed the first full day of Spring. The temperature was on the verge of freezing, so the icy precipitation made a mess of our power lines, breaking one and causing a 16 hour power outage. Thank goodness for book lights and cats, which kept me entertained while my husband was away at a conference. Life in the mountainous areas of Greece can be...interesting.

Garment

2009-03-06T21:05:00.002+02:00

How many stories have been woven into the threads of this dress? The frock will never tell, a life of love, pain, happiness, regret - washed clean and left to fly away in the bitter March wind.

The view from above

2009-01-25T21:58:00.001+02:00

DSC00252
Originally uploaded by melusinagr

Our sunset view, makes life seem not so bad sometimes.

Hope for a battered planet

2009-01-20T15:25:00.004+02:00

From today's Kathimerini

Saving grace

2009-01-17T19:36:00.001+02:00

I’ve been in a bit of a funk lately, at least since the beginning of the year, perhaps a bit longer. Certainly I have a tendency to loathe January – the beginning of the year, while traditionally beckoning a fresh start, seems to leave me melancholy and clamoring for the past. But that isn’t really the source of my depression. I seem to have a bit of problem with the news, mostly the fact that the world happenings of late seem to be rather atrocious. As a society we are constantly bombarded with a 24-hour news cycle of nothing but death, destruction, and pain – and recent events seem to be rolling into an avalanche that will certainly lead to the end of the world. Well, in my hyperbolic, depressed state, anyway. From the attack on Gaza to the Greek riots to the Russia/Ukraine gas dispute and people all over the world starving, unemployed, and losing their homes, it gets to the point where my heart is breaking so much that I start to feel numb.

Then on Thursday I hear that a plane has crashed. Another 100 or more people possibly dead. Another tragedy. It is a straw about to break this camel’s back. My mind is a swirl of anger – isn’t it enough that the world is going through what it is, without this? Did we really need a catastrophic plane crash right now??? I reluctantly switch to CNN, dreading more bad news, but hoping for something, anything that can save me, save us, from everything being bad all the time.

And there was something.

All 155 people on the plane survived. A plane ditched in the river in one of the most perfect plane crashes of all time. A pilot and co-pilot who know what they are doing, passengers who act without panicking, police and ferries and first responders all there ready, saving people, getting them out of the freezing water. At first you have to think of miracles, of a divine hand working some magic, and then you realize if there is a divine hand involved, it is simply showing us that this, THIS is what human beings are capable of. Not all tragedy. Not all pain. Not all bad.

Sure, this doesn’t solve the conflict in the Middle East. It doesn’t help Darfur. It doesn’t feed or clothe people, or provide running water. But it is 155 people who, for a few agonizing minutes on Thursday afternoon may not have thought they would still be alive today. What might have been a disaster became something good. If that doesn’t give us hope, nothing can.

Poor old goat

2008-12-27T21:32:00.002+02:00

Looks like the Gavle goat didn't make it this year. I've heard grilled goat makes for a tasty Christmas dinner.

OTE can suck it

2008-12-21T18:14:00.002+02:00

For the past 4 or 5 months, we've notice that our 1 mb connection has dropped down to about 200 kb/s in the afternoons/evenings, which makes doing most anything beyond loading text unbearable. We were tirelessly slamming our ISP, Forthnet, for these issues, until we found out today that because OTE controls our line (Forthnet, unfortunately, does not have their own lines in our area), OTE controls our lack of bandwidth. It seems that the node we are on is overcrowded, and OTE doesn't give a shit since the people that are complaining are not their subscribers.

Since the point of having other ISPs on OTE lines was necessary to avoid a monopoly and allow users a choice, it would seem that these practices would not be acceptable, at least, I doubt any company would get away with such a thing in America. But of course this is Greece, the top of the line in "I don't give a damn" countries. Still, you would hope that since OTE has some German blood in them now they would improve things a bit. Forthnet has sent orders to OTE three times on our behalf in the past few months, and nothing has changed. Here's hoping it does soon, but maybe not before we switch our phone service to another provider. I'm not inclined to pay OTE any more money for their corrupt business practices. For now, I guess we are forced to suffer with an adsl connection that isn't much better than ISDN, unless, of course, we ally ourselves with the evil empire and get our internet service from OTE. Not a chance.

High class

2008-12-19T05:06:00.002+02:00

You know you live in a classy city when you park downtown and find a brochure from a "by the hour" hotel on your windshield. Ironically, the couple pictured on the cover of the pamphlet was sleeping. Because sometimes you just need a place where you can sleep for a couple of hours in the middle of the day.

Xenophobia

2008-12-17T19:51:00.000+02:00

Whenever a person moves to a new place there is always a period of adjustment. The length of time it will take is indeterminate – it depends on many factors, and can take weeks, months, or even years. Obviously, moving to a different country ups the adjustment factor quite a bit, as we learn how to deal with new cultures, new social customs, and sometimes, new languages.

When I moved to Greece six years ago, I did not expect it to be easy. I am one of those people who stubbornly defies change of any kind, even change I long for, so I knew learning how to live in a new country was going to be an enormous task for me. The welcoming attitude of my in-laws made things much less difficult (as some of us know, some Greek in-laws can be a bit harsh with foreign spouses), but the blooming war in Iraq and general anti-American sentiment made me feel quite isolated and unwanted here. Living in Athens didn’t help matters much, because while it is a booming metropolis with lots of activity, it is hard to find your “place” there. Of course, we were only going to be there a year, so I looked forward to moving on.

We moved three times in four years, so it was nearly impossible to really feel like I was “home” here. In smaller villages I was more of an attraction because of my foreign status, and people were much friendlier. Even though I was starting to feel a greater sense of belonging, I had difficulty learning the Greek language, and that separated me from everyone else. We moved to a village I really loved on the side of Mt. Olympus, and that was when Greece started feeling more like home. Another move to my husband’s home town of Thessaloniki made things even better, and by the time we moved into our own house, I finally felt settled at last.

That is, until the riots started. To be fair, this sort of violence isn’t uncommon in Greece, whenever there is a protest or march of some kind, rioters wreak some kind of havoc. But the scale of the latest riots was enormous, the damage overwhelming, and the hatred palpable. We have had riots in America, but things don’t spill over into violence quite so often. Europe is so protective over an individual’s right to protest that it has a hard time dealing with rioting, which I can respect, but the destruction and injury (and sometimes death) caused by soccer hooliganism and protest violence seems unnecessary and avoidable. The general attitude that it is ok to throw rocks and bottles and bombs at people (especially police) is hard for me to grasp. I’ve had my share of anti-government attitudes in my life, but I’ve never felt the need to throw something at another human being, no matter how much I despised them (yes, I know, we can all appreciate the humor in Bush’s bobbing and weaving at the shoes thrown at him, but honestly, I do not think it is ok to do that, as much as I dislike Bush).

I cannot pretend to know what it is like to grow up in Greece today, or what my attitude about things would be if I was a Greek youth. But I’m not, and these riots have left me feeling alienated and unsettled, and once again searching for home.

What the hell is wrong with people?

2008-11-29T05:19:00.000+02:00

Three violent deaths in two stores marred the opening of the Christmas shopping season Friday.

In the first, a temporary Wal-Mart employee was trampled to death in a rush of thousands of early morning shoppers as he and other employees attempted to unlock the doors of a Long Island, New York, store at 5 a.m., police said.

In the second violent incident on what is historically one of the year's busiest shopping days, two men were shot dead in a Toys "R" Us in Palm Desert, California, after they argued in the store, police said.

Honestly, are we humans, or are we monsters?

World Philosophy Day

2008-11-20T19:19:00.002+02:00

In honor of World Philosophy Day, I ask you to mull this question, first posed by Friederich Nietzsche:

If you knew you had to live your life over again, exactly as it has been - no changes, no derivations from the path you have been on - would cry in agony or dance in jubilation?

Heavy lifting

2008-11-08T20:08:00.003+02:00

From Kathimerini:

Phoenix Lander, I hardly knew ya...

2008-11-04T19:35:00.002+02:00

Wired Magazine is having an epitaph contest for the Mars Phoenix Lander, which is slowly dying on the red planet as the sun filled "days" are decreasing and unable to charge its solar cells. Phoenix was, thankfully, an incredibly successful mission that gave scientists plenty of information about Mars.

Some of the epitaphs are touching, some are funny. Here's to the lander and the NASA/JPL crew behind it - and to many more successful missions in the future.

It's worth it just to see the Fonz...

2008-10-24T16:57:00.002+03:00

...even though he's 30 years older. I admit, I had a shameless crush on Fonzie when I was a kid, a girl just can't resist the leather.

WARNING: This is a celebrity endorsement for Obama, so if you have McCain tendencies but loved the Fonz, I just want you to be warned.

See more Ron Howard videos at Funny or Die

Time travel suspended in Cyclades Islands

2008-10-16T19:14:00.001+03:00

From Kathimerini:

The islands of the Cyclades will be left without the ferry service that usually connects them from tomorrow as the vessel plying that route has been deemed unseaworthy.

I don't know about you, but I'd hate to lose my connection to or from tomorrow.

School spirit

2008-10-07T19:19:00.002+03:00

All eyes are on my hometown and my alma mater tonight as the second U.S. Presidential debate is being held at Belmont University in Nashville, Tennessee. I don’t think there is a “redder” state than Tennessee, so Obama will have his work cut out for him (even Al Gore, a Tennessee boy, didn’t win his hometown state), but things don’t seem to be going too well for McCain at the moment so maybe we’ll see the state turn a nice shade of purple. Not that I am a die hard Obama girl, but I call myself a Democrat, so I better vote like one.

Politics aside, this will the first presidential debate that will undoubtedly make me homesick, as I see photos of the University campus I loved so much (and hardly recognize anymore, what with all the new buildings). The Belmont I left wasn’t even close to having the capacity to hold such a thing as a Presidential debate, so I can’t help but feel a tinge of pride at how far my school has come (in your face, David Lipscomb!*).

In the meantime, my absentee ballot arrived in the mail last week, so it is good to know that Davidson County Election Commission has their ducks in a row. As usual, there are a slew of unknown Independent candidates (including Nader, but I miss seeing good ol’ Lyndon LaRouche on the ballot). I’ll be sure to get my ballot off in plenty of time, I just wish it would count for something, since absentee ballots are apparently only counted in the case of a run-off election (if someone has some updated information on how absentee ballots are counted, please let me know).

Shine brightly, Nashville. I hope you have plenty of gas.

*This has meaning only if you attended Belmont or Lipscomb

My kingdom for a number

2008-09-30T17:02:00.002+03:00

Our area of the village is fairly unpopulated, one of the most recently developed areas of the municipality. There are a handful of houses up here, and the trek to the village proper is at least a mile (perhaps more, I’ve never done an odometer check to be certain). So our street is relatively new, in fact, it may have just been a dirt/stone road when I first moved to Greece and came up to visit our house while it was still in progress. Despite having nomenclature, our road has not been officially numbered, either by the municipality or the post office, so we are without an official address. This is slightly annoying for a variety of reasons, given that the post office (and our P.O. box) is well out of our way (we end up getting our mail about once a month). Although it would be mighty nice to have mail delivered to our house, it would be nicer if, god forbid, we ever had to call police/fire/ambulance, we could actually give them a freakin’ address.

It doesn’t help matters much that our neighbor, in true Greek fashion, has apparently arbitrarily decided upon a street number for his house. How exactly he came up with this number is beyond me, but it has been made even more complicated by the fact that someone closer to the beginning of the road has decided their street number is 8 (higher than our neighbor’s 5), and posted it proudly. This would mean that our street numbers are ass backwards from the rest of the world, since there is no way there are seven properties between the beginning of the road and the illustrious number 8, and with our neighbor’s chosen number, this means that the numbers would have to start at the end of the street instead of the beginning (and since the end of our street is a dead end, obviously that isn’t the beginning of the street, is it?). If we can just pick our own street number, I think we should come up with something like 6242 and really throw people off, which is the kind of thing I am inclined to do but I don’t think my in-laws would go for it.

Here’s hoping that some day we actually do get this sorted out, so when I’m 90 years old and having a stroke, someone can actually give the EMT an address. That gives them about 50 years to figure it out.

If Dante had it right

2008-09-29T11:25:00.000+03:00

It was just over a month ago that we were trudging through the hottest, sweatiest days of the summer, and yet here we are, at the end of September, freezing our bums off. While technically speaking the temperature has not been freezing, it has been hovering around 60 degrees F (about 15 C, I think), and has felt downright cold for the last week or so. Add a plethora of cloudy, rainy days and our house feels bone cold, so we finally decided to turn on the heat (the heat was on in early May, now again late September, I think this is a record for me). I’m sure things are colder up here on the mountain, but come on now, it would be nice to have some mild temperatures in between the sweltering air conditioning weather and the bitter heat on non-stop weather (we might have had a week of them, which isn’t anywhere near enough). Today has proven to be yet another gloomy, cold day (I think the coldest yet, the temperature hasn’t risen above 49 up here), and while I tend toward the dark and gothic, even the most melancholy of people need a sunny day now and then, if only to dry the laundry. There is one thing this weather is good for, however – cuddling on the couch watching T.V. with your husband and three cats.

In other words, it is official – I have become an old woman who spends her time complaining about the weather. At least there is one thing this weather is good for – cuddling on the couch watching T.V. with your husband and three cats.

Hometown pride

2008-09-21T02:48:00.002+03:00

Things like this can only happen in Nashville. If you have lived there, you know exactly what I mean.

Idiotic, maybe. But I think this story made me more homesick than ever.

Dog days

2008-08-29T18:28:00.000+03:00

I don’t know why I always get lulled into the false sense that by the time August comes, insufferable temperatures are not as likely. The reality is almost every place I’ve lived has the potential of facing extreme heat in August, as we’ve experienced here for the past few weeks. For most of the summer, the weather up here on the mountain has been a bit more temperate than the city, with cool, windy evenings. But not lately. It has been as hot up here as it has been downtown, with weeks of temperatures reaching 95 degrees and not much relief at night. Usually, even during the hottest days, our house would cool off some at night, but not lately. Luckily we have air conditioning upstairs, but any amount of cooking downstairs made it seem like I’d been schvitzing for several hours. We made the mistake of inviting people for dinner and by the time I served the meal I resembled a wet rat, but the food was good and the company pleasant so the sweat was worth it (not to mention a Clue tournament, which is a requirement for guests in this house). We are resolved to buy air conditioning for the downstairs next summer, which should make entertaining during the summer much more pleasant for us and our guests.

We managed to survive a wedding in the high heat of August. The church wasn’t air conditioned and from the looks of things, had the ceremony been any longer half the guests would have passed out from heat stroke. I also witnessed my first Greek Orthodox baptism, which made me feel slightly sorry for the two month old baby who had no idea what was going on and I think just wanted to sleep. My sister-in-law is the nona (her first time), so I was happy to be there to see her take on the responsibility. She handled it well, despite getting peed on (by the baby, not the priest), and I am certain she is truly “pandaxia” (always worthy). The couple couldn’t have picked a better godmother.

My husband and I have handled the heat by staying inside and embracing our inner geeks playing Lord of the Rings Online, watching Star Trek: Voyager, and playing Word Challenge on Facebook. Thank goodness last night offered the first real relief from the stifling weather, as a cool breeze flowed through the mountains and into our windows. I’m definitely looking forward to autumn.

God bless the internet

2008-08-15T14:50:00.001+03:00

If we didn't have the internet, then where would people go when they wanted to know how to "make your own fake dog poop"?

Yes, I am the proud owner of a blog that ended up as a result of that search. Grats to me.

Son of Sam called, he wants his M.O. back

2008-08-14T14:27:00.002+03:00

I read with horror a story about a couple who were shot while eating at a pizzeria in a Thessaloniki neighborhood recently. I had heard about another incident in the same neighborhood, only this time the couple were shot while sitting in their car at a drive-in cinema. The media hasn't been very forthcoming with details, and the police are insisting that the crimes are unrelated, which means one of two things: either they have enough information about one or both incidents to be certain they are unrelated, or they don't want people to think there might be a serial killer stalking a Thessaloniki neighborhood. Of course, I hope that the crimes are unrelated and the perpetrators are caught quickly, but it got me to thinking - can Greek law enforcement handle a serial killer case?

This is not to say I think the police here are incompetent. Sure, there have been a few big gaffes lately, but we all know how we only hear about the bad things and never about the good things. But as with most things in Greece, I am not sure if law enforcement has the funding in order to have the tools necessary to solve a major case. Let's face it - most crimes in Greece fall under the "passion" category, which pretty much means you gotta watch out for your family members because you just never know when they might turn on you. These crimes are often solved quickly, so the headache of meticulous crime solving is unnecessary. But a serial killer? That is a whole new ball game.

For now, I'll trust what the police have to say and assume there isn't a serial killer in our midst, but I do think we'll be avoiding that neighborhood for now.

All-Vegan Tofu Lasagna

2008-08-09T19:57:00.002+03:00

I don't often post recipes, but I thought I'd share this one for tofu lasagna. It is basically an amalgamation of several recipes I've found in various places, suited for our tastes. It totally saves our fasting periods. It is so delicious, even people who don't eat vegan find it delightful. I'm not really used to compiling my own recipes, so the language may be a bit awkward, sorry for that. I'm also not 100% sure on conversions for U.S. products, so I've estimated.

All-Vegan Tofu Lasagna

Sauce:

2 T. olive oil

1-2 onions, chopped

3 cloves garlic, minced

400 gr. (8 oz)jar pasta sauce (I use Barilla Pomodoro)

500 gr. (10 oz) tomato sauce (just the plain sauce, I use Pommaro classico)

1 t. to 1 T. parsley flakes (depending on taste preference)

1 t. to 1 T. basil (depending on taste preference)

1 t. salt

¼ t. pepper

Filling:

2 349 gr. (almost a pound) boxes silken tofu (you can use regular tofu, I prefer the silken because it has a similar consistency to Ricotta)

¼ lb. soy cheese, grated

1 t. parsley flakes

1 t. basil

½ t. salt

¼ t. pepper

pinch garlic powder

Barilla Spinach Lasagna – 12 “sheets” (these do not require cooking before making the lasagna)

Preheat oven to 200 degree Celsius (400 F.). Grease lightly (with Pam or other spray on no-stick product) 9x13 baking dish. Put oil, onions and garlic into large skillet, sauté until soft (about five minutes), then add sauces and seasonings. Cook until heated through.

Mix tofu, half of the soy cheese and spices thoroughly in a medium bowl.

Line bottom of dish with a layer of sauce. Place a layer of noodles (4)over sauce, then top with half of the filling. Dot with a small amount of sauce, then another layer of noodles. Top with the majority of the leftover filling (leave a small amount to dot the top of the lasagna), dot with small amount of sauce, and add the last layer of noodles. Place the rest of the filling, and top with all the remaining sauce. Cover with foil and bake for 25 minutes, then remove the foil and sprinkle top with remainder of soy cheese. Bake for another 5 minutes, cool for ten minutes, and serve. 8 servings.

*You can easily convert this recipe into a carnivore’s delight by browning a pound of ground beef for the sauce, substituting Ricotta for the tofu and mozzarella for the soy cheese. Both versions are equally tasty.

Out, out, damn cake!

2008-08-05T19:22:00.003+03:00

The one recipe that has saved us during fasting times is this vegan chocolate cake recipe, which is so good I actually make it sometimes when we aren't fasting. It is a quick and easy cake, so it is nice to serve last-minute guests when they come for coffee. The catch - I can't, no matter what I do, make it come out of the pan clean. Almost every time the bottom of the cake sticks to the pan. I've tried triple greasing the pan, baking the cake a few minutes longer, having the pan rest on it's side during cooling(which is usually the trick when it comes to getting stuff out of loaf pans), and finally I've tried letting it cool for various lengths of time, from the traditional ten minutes to 20 minutes to letting the cake cool entirely in the pan. No dice. I'm at the point of frustration where I feel like making the damn cake over and over until I can get it perfect. Yea, it is just a stupid cake, but it isn't quite so presentable with it's bottom sheared off.

I just know some of you cooking experts out there must have some tips for extracting stubborn cakes from their pans. Well, I hope you do. It is driving me nuts because I usually don't have sticking problems, and whenever I bake, it just has to be perfect.

Garn!

2008-08-03T13:59:00.002+03:00

You know that blender I was bitching about a couple of weeks ago? Well, it broke. It fell from the dish drainer into the sink and shattered. I know what you some of you are thinking - it was my passive aggressive way of getting a new blender. But I was actually starting to get the hang of it thanks to y'all's advice. I was making granita and milkshakes and having all sorts of fun. Plus it was part of a set, so we'll have to find a replacement that goes with that model (what a pain). I guess we can buy a cheap blender for temporary use, but I'm bummed. I guess I shouldn't ever bitch about things - this is what happens!

Even in tragedy, hope can be found

2008-08-02T17:44:00.000+03:00

It seems that summers in Greece are always full of tragedy – fires and tourist deaths are at the top of the list. I’m appalled at one of the most recent events – the deadly beating of a 20-year-old at the hands of nightclub bouncers in Mykonos. I can’t pretend to know all the details of what exactly happened, but it seems that there was some suspicion that the victim had stolen items from the patrons of the club (I don’t know if there has been any evidence to support this claim) and the bouncers followed him and beat him with what would prove to be fatal blows.

I’ve heard that there are often problems of this kind involving bouncers at clubs on these “party” islands, which is rather inexcusable. Last I heard, bouncers were not able to take the law into their own hands, and if they were, they certainly wouldn’t be allowed to beat people, stolen property or not. I respect the bouncer’s authority to keep people out of the club and to stop brawls within the club (with restrained means) but their authority stops at the door of the club. Hunting someone down is beyond the pale.

I wish I had the grace of this boy’s family, who generously donated his organs to save the lives of Greeks around the country and have shown aplomb in the face of such tragedy. My general feeling is to punish these thugs in the worst way possible (which isn’t death, by the way, that would be too generous for slubberdegullions such as these), and I am afraid that if I were the boy’s family, I would have so much anger I wouldn’t be in a position to make such a decision as to donate his organs. This death was unacceptable and needless.

May Doujon Zammit rest in peace, blessed by the lives he saved in death, and may his family find justice, peace, and comfort in the future.

It happened in Athens

2008-07-30T18:31:00.003+03:00

Yes, I survived Athens. The city didn’t actually seem so bad from the 21^st floor of our hotel (the pool bar).

Not to mention it was practically a ghost town, with everyone away for diakopes (vacations). We had an excellent view of our old neighborhood from the hotel –

and Thanos went out bright and early Saturday morning and got me some tsoureki from our old bakery (I’ve not had tsoureki quite as good since then). The weather was actually pleasant for July – plus I think Athens is less humid in general than Thessaloniki so the dry heat didn’t seem so bad.

The wedding was beautiful, the bride and groom looked fabulous and the reception had the usual “Greek wedding reception” elements but a few twists thrown in, including fireworks and a buffet. I’ve actually never experienced a buffet at a wedding before. The food was decent and there was something for everyone, yet Thanos and I still experienced “buffet sickness” the next day. No matter how good a buffet is, it just never quite works out for me. Unfortunately, none of my pictures of the reception venue turned out, because our camera is s*#t and it was too dark (same with the interior of the church, I got a couple of passable shots of the artwork inside, but most of it was dark). Too bad, because the place was kinda cool with a modern design, on a huge property among other such venues snug on the slopes of Parnitha.

The flight there was a bit dicey – a delay on the runway because of too much traffic in the Greek skies, and then again mid-flight. Add some turbulence on landing and it was a rough ride. On the flight back I was certain they hadn’t locked the cargo door (we were sitting right over it and I saw it close but I didn’t hear or feel the corresponding kalump) while Thanos rolled his eyes every time I said it. I’m even more amused by passenger behavior than ever. I’m trying to figure out why exactly people have to be first to board when boarding means getting on a bus to get to the plane and the people that get on first just have to wait on a hot bus for ten minutes. Then the minute the plane stops 90% of the people jump up and start gathering their crap only to stand there for ten minutes while waiting for the door(s) to be opened. And what exactly is so hard about finding your seat on a plane? People get on board and it is like all common sense regarding numbers has been lost on them. If your ticket says row 22 you can be pretty sure you need to keep moving towards the back of the plane. Then when people get to their designated seat they stand in the aisle, puzzled, as if not sure what to do next. Sitting down is a good rule of thumb, or at least get the hell out of the way so the rest of us that can count can get to our seats. Honestly, is life really that difficult for some people, or does travel stress just overcome them? If the latter is true, I guess I can’t blame them. I’m sure anyone who knew English on the plane didn’t appreciate my constant chatter about the cargo door being unlocked.

So I guess Athens is ok – if you are just visiting. I still wouldn’t want to live there again, even though I do recall a few good times in the old neighborhood.

Love, life, and homesickness

2008-07-21T18:35:00.002+03:00

I don’t know what has been up with me lately. I’ve been a little off. Off kilter, off my rocker, off side. I’m sure it is just a momentary lapse of seasonal dysfunction (that disorder most people get in the winter I seem to get in the summer). A big part of it, however, is good old fashioned homesickness. As an expat you expect a good dose of the ailment once in awhile, although it doesn’t occur as often as I would have expected. It is just that when it does happen, it happens big. I find myself having fantasies of life in America, with a good job and all the conveniences of American life. Hell, I don’t even care where in America I live, anywhere would be fine, as long as it isn’t one of those desert states (my apologies to people who love the desert states, it just isn’t my thing).

But then I think that I wouldn’t want to leave our beautiful house here, and international moves are the biggest pain, and my husband would have to take the MCAT (or whatever the hell the medical licensing exam is called in the U.S.) if he were to practice medicine there, and all the little things about Greece I would miss if I moved back to the U.S. It is weird having this sort of duality about home – now it seems that both Greece and America are “home” to me, so how can I ever pick between them? I can’t even imagine what it is like for expats who have lived in several different countries.

This coming weekend we are planning a short trip to Athens – the city where my expat life started – and I suppose that could be one reason things are coming together in my mind the way they are. I’m sure my parents visit this spring didn’t help matters much either. I dread going to Athens the way most people dread going to the dentist, and to be honest I’d send my husband alone if it wasn’t our koumbaros who is getting married. Not because I feel I owe him, but because I want to be there to share his special day and wish him well as he starts his married life. I just wish he wasn’t doing it in Athens. I can’t really pinpoint why I hate Athens so much, but it might have something to do with the harried-ness of the people there. It was as if life wasn’t being lived as much as endured. That kind of environment can suck the will right out of anyone.

Hopefully I’ll be back to my cheerful, snarky self before too long.

The price of progress

2008-07-10T19:15:00.002+03:00

On Monday afternoon there was a lot of hubbub across the street. A big truck with some dubious mechanized equipment was doing something that we couldn't see because whatever they were doing was being obstructed by the giant truck. My brother-in-law went outside to find out what the hell they were up to, and it turns out they were installing new poles to run phone lines to the house up the road from us.

I'm torn between feeling sympathy for the people up the street who seemed to have lived there a mighty long time without having access to a land line and being upset that our view has become tainted by a new wire. As you can see, there were electrical wires already but they were positioned high enough that they didn't cut across our view when sitting on the balcony. Alas, the phone wires are too low to be avoided. Such is the price of progress in our little village.

"So wise so young, they say do never live long"

2008-07-07T19:16:00.001+03:00

My first reaction to this story about adapting Shakespeare for children as young as five years old was one of disapproval. I mean, come on, does a five-year-old really need all those “everybody dies” endings? Not to mention plenty of very adult subject matter. I loves me some Shakespeare but I’m not sure it is suitable for kids under a certain age. Twelve was always my guideline for starting Shakespeare, which is why my niece hasn’t gotten any from me yet.

Then I remembered we are living in an era where parents dress their five-year-old daughters up like little sluts for beauty pageants and use the T.V. as a babysitter pretty much from the womb, allowing young kids access to all kinds of inappropriate entertainment. So hell, might as well give them Shakespeare. Add Aeschylus and Sophocles to the list as well. Nothing like a good tragedy to put a child to sleep at night.

Happy Independence Day

2008-07-04T21:19:00.002+03:00

On this day of liberation for the United States of America, I would like to wish life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness to people all over the world.

I believe in only one thing and that thing is human liberty. If ever a man is to achieve anything like dignity, it can happen only if superior men are given absolute freedom to think what they want to think and say what they want to say. I am against any man and any organization which seeks to limit or deny that freedom. . . [and] the superior man can be sure of freedom only if it is given to all men.

-H.L. Mencken*

*As spoken to Hamilton Owens, quoted in Guy J. Forgue. ed., Letters of H. L. Mencken (New York: Knopf. 1961), p. xix.

I must be an idiot

2008-07-02T20:51:00.002+03:00

Are you not supposed to be able to crush ice in blenders? I always thought that was one of the great purposes of a blender, unless my margarita haze was blinding me to the fact that trying to blend drinks with ice caused broken blades and badly mixed drinks.

Anyway, I tried to crush some ice in our blender to mix with a granita mix, and it just wouldn't happen. The blades stubbornly refused to move the ice at all, in fact, the blade mechanism slid up so it wasn't even spinning at all anymore. It could be that our multi-purpose mixer/food processor/blender is multi-crap (although the mixer and food processor parts work pretty well). I finally got my granita by using one of those bags you fill with water to make ice thingies with tiny, tiny slots for the ice and using that in the blender, but I still had to open up halfway through to push down the ice/granita mixture so it would blend better.

I'm thinking we need a real blender.

I triple dog dare them

2008-06-30T08:38:00.001+03:00

An eight-year-old boy didn’t invite two of his classmates to his birthday party. It isn’t exactly an unusual thing, is it? I guess that is why the world is so curious about the fact that the boy’s school has complained to the Swedish Parliament that, by not inviting these classmates, he has somehow snarked their rights.

Honestly - Sweden? The perfect country? The country with a clean environment, safe roads, good pay, bonuses for every child born, and hardcore women’s rights? They are taking it upon themselves to legislate who gets invited to kid’s birthday parties? Sure, sure. The decision hasn’t been made yet. But just the fact that the school feels justified in making this claim – to the point of confiscating the poor kid’s invitations – is a bit, well, pathetic.

The birthday party invite is one of the few great sources of power in the kid world. Whole kid dynasties have risen and fallen based on the invite. The only greater power amongst children is the ability to skip to the triple dog dare with complete confidence. We all know that nobody respects or fears the kid whose parents make him invite the whole class, and why is that? Because if you invite everybody, no one really cares. If the mean kid gets invited to every party no matter what, then he stays mean. You can’t send a message if you invite everyone. You can’t enact revenge on your mortal kid enemy. I realize that not inviting everyone can hurt the kid that doesn’t really do anything but everyone picks on, but hey, politics is politics. People really underestimate how politically charged the life of kids can be.

If the Swedish Parliament decides that not inviting every kid in the class is a violation of kid rights, then the whole power structure of kid-dom will come crashing down. Who knows what will happen next – they might decide that skipping dares is a crime punishable by no ~~television~~ computer usage for a year. What will happen to the children then?

Setting priorities

2008-06-28T16:43:00.002+03:00

You know, I'm really glad we have the technology in this world to develop shape shifting buildings like the one they are planning in Dubai, but if we are going spend a lot of time and money on this kind of crap, I'd much rather develop warp drive or teleportation technologies instead.

Honestly, I'm still waiting for the flying cars and Mars colonies I was promised when I was a little girl.

The Laugh Maker

2008-06-23T18:55:00.000+03:00

I was first introduced to the comedy of George Carlin at an early age – perhaps too early an age to be exposed to his brand of humor. It can all be blamed on my brothers who preceded me by several years and were privy to all the cool stuff you can share with a little sister. I suppose my education in linguistics from Mr. Carlin can be blamed for the fact that I was the most foul-mouthed ten-year-old girl of all time, but to my credit I only used such language when I was really mad – Incredible Hulk mad. To the horror of the parents and teachers of my elementary school I got that mad once during my early years, and let out a slew of obscenities with such fury that not even the threat of a world without puppies or chocolate could stop me.

I didn’t have the opportunity to see Carlin in concert until I was in my twenties, a more acceptable age. It was a time in my life when things were quite bad – I had just gotten out of the hospital after one of the worst lupus flare-ups I’d ever had, a flare-up I attributed to the massive grief I experienced after the sudden death of two friends nearly a year earlier. It had been a long time since I had anything to laugh about. My mother had come to Nashville to take care of me during my two-month recovery, and while I wasn’t quite up to going out that often, she did encourage me when I was excited to find that George Carlin would be performing at the Tennessee Performance Arts Center and agreed to take me.

One thing you have to know about my mother is that she is a woman of incredible grace and decorum who was forced into a life with two crude sons, an even cruder husband, and a daughter who learned more from the men in her life than from her sole female role model. My mother did everything she could to lady-fy me to no avail, but she gave it a good run. Obviously, she isn’t the type of person who would willingly go to a George Carlin performance, but she knew I needed it, and so we went. And I laughed. I laughed like I had never laughed before. I laughed so hard at some things it actually embarrassed my mother, although I did catch her laughing once or twice. It was exactly what I needed.

Thank you George. My memories of you will always keep me laughing, especially when times are rough.

Third world village

2008-06-22T18:50:00.001+03:00

When we moved to the boonies I had a few expectations of what life would be like. I knew we would be limited to going to the grocery store once a week, with my husband able to stop on the way home for staples if necessary. I knew our gas consumption would be high, and that planning to go anywhere in the city would always take us at least a half hour (usually more) of travel time. I knew I would see more cows, goats, and sheep than people on a daily basis. I also figured we might lose electricity more often than in town, especially during storms or snowy weather. What I did not expect was not having running water on a daily basis.

Before we moved up here, we knew that during the summer the local water company (which seems like it is run by the municipality, it isn’t the same as what we had in the centre) cut off water a couple hours a day in an effort to preserve water. A couple of hours a day is something I was fully prepared to deal with – it isn’t that long really.

For the first few months of life here, nothing was abnormal with our water supply. We were blissfully unaware of what the future would have in store for us. Suddenly, in February, we lost water for almost a week (thankfully not continuously, we’d get it back overnight usually). This was, apparently, the beginning of the end.

We had a few weeks of normal running water after the February incident, but into March the outages started to be more frequent and more frustrating (usually involving one of us being halfway through a shower when the flow stopped). By the middle of May we were fed up, and my brother-in-law engaged our plumber to install a small reservoir and pump system in the three occupied houses of our compound. So now, whenever the water goes out (which can be 8am or noon or 7pm, one never knows one day to the next) we can descend into the basement to turn on the pump and have water from the reservoir. It doesn’t hold much, so if the water is off for two days straight we’re screwed, but as long as I don’t do any dishes or laundry (things that are oh so hard to avoid because they are just such fun chores) we can manage a couple of days of showers and flushes and hand washing if we need to. Unfortunately, it is two of our cats that suffer the most because they happen to like drinking from the faucet, which I won’t turn on for them when we are using the reservoir (and I shouldn’t turn on for them otherwise, but I’m a sucker for squeaks and enlarged kitty begging eyes).

As before, I keep thinking I shouldn’t be whining about this. I should be grateful we ever have running water and that we have a reservoir when it is off. There are so many problems in the world right now and I’m bitching about a lack of running water. On top of all that, I know we should be using less water anyway as the available potable water all over the world is decreasing. But dammit, I want my water. I just wish everyone could have the luxury of running water.

On randomness

2008-06-18T20:21:00.002+03:00

Cheryl tagged me for this meme, I think I’ve done it before but I thought I’d see if I could come up with more random things about myself.

The rules-

1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
5. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.
6. Let your tagger know when your entry is up.

My Six Random Things-

1. I’ve been thrown out of a Dunkin’ Donuts. I had two accomplices – we were trying to get balled up napkins into the wastebasket behind the counter. It was probably 4am, the place was empty, and the worker was in the back making the donuts. Needless to say, we missed most of the time, and when the dude came out from the back, he was furious. We didn’t realize quite the extent of our mess – what looked like thousands of balled up napkins all over the floor behind the counter.

2. I once mocked an FBI agent to his face. I was helping him make a photo array lineup at the time.

3. Basements scare me. Even light filled, finished basements like the one we have here. Ours is meant to be another floor, with two large rooms, both completely habitable, with plenty of windows. But when I go down there to turn our water pump (which is often, since they turn off the water here every damn day), I freak out, especially at night. I’m not exactly sure where my fear comes from, I’ve never had any bad experiences in basements (that I know of). I suppose it is the uncanny effect of empty rooms and unused spaces. What we aren’t familiar with is terrifying.

4. I was locked in a bathroom when I was five years old. I was with my best friend at the time (I really don’t know why we were in the bathroom together) and we were at her family’s house. All the adults were outside because we were having a barbecue. We didn’t know how to open the window so all we could so was scream and pound at the door until someone noticed we had been missing. We were in there for a good half hour, I think, because our parents didn’t care about us thought we were somewhere playing.

5. I can’t whistle. I’ve tried a jillion times, just can’t do it. It’s hard for some people.

6. Whenever I fly (which isn’t often), I count five minutes from take-off. This somehow makes me feel better, because once I heard that most accidents occur within the first five minutes of flight. Of course, now that I watch Air Crash Investigation with my husband all the time (which is really a bad idea for someone who doesn’t like to fly) I know that a plane can pretty much go down at any time. Still, I gotta count my five minutes.

I'm not good at tagging, so I will break the rules and not tag anyone. Which I suppose is another random thing about me - I'm a rule breaker!

Because if they say it on Fox News, it MUST be true!

2008-06-14T15:54:00.003+03:00

Sometimes I'm ashamed to say I'm from Tennessee. Now, don't get me wrong, there is a lot I love about my home state and there are a lot of great people there. But when an official from the TN Democratic Party says publicly that he is afraid Barack Obama might have "associates" who have ties to terrorism because he heard it on Fox News, I have to wonder about my fellow statesmen.

I haven't really talked much about the presidential race because to be perfectly honest, either Democratic candidate is fine with me. If you put a gun to my head and forced me to choose I would have picked Clinton, because I think a Clinton-Obama ticket might have given the Democrats more chances to possibly get 16 years in the White House. But really, in the end I think they both have the same goals and the important thing - or what should be the important thing to Democrats - is getting a Democrat in the White House. Am I mortified at some of the blatant sexism that marked Hilary's run? Of course. But I'm not surprised either, and I'm sure as hell not going to get my panties in a wad about it. I'm certainly not mad enough to stay away from the polls or vote for the γέρος - I want the Democrats to win.

So for people from my home state's Democratic party to speculate publicly things about Obama that are sure to send some Tennessee Democrats running the other direction (and because they heard it on FOX NEWS), I have to wonder what the party is coming to. I guess now it is starting ti make sense that the party's symbol is an ass.

UPDATE: Hobbs apologized, stating "I should have taken some time to check the accuracy of what I saw on television before speaking publicly." Hmm, ya think?

Pig in boots

2008-06-11T18:47:00.002+03:00

I'm not sure what is more interesting about this story - the fact that a piglet has a mud phobia or the fact that she happily wears tiny little boots to combat her fear. Considering the pig was born into a sausage empire and isn't going to get slaughtered because of its cute little little psychosis, I'm wondering if this isn't just one smart piglet.

I wouldn't dream of it

2008-06-07T22:17:00.002+03:00

Here is a picture of the "do not disturb" sign from our hotel on Crete. As you can see, a spell checker was not used before they printed them. I meant to post this earlier, but can you believe I actually forgot about it until I was looking through our pictures again. Obviously, this was quite an inducer of merriment for me and my husband, since we are apparently six years old.

For those of you unfamiliar with crude elements of the English language, turd means poop.

Found money

2008-06-05T20:43:00.001+03:00

One of the most common social activities for the thirtysomething professional here in Greece is to gather with a bunch of friends/colleagues at a taverna. I enjoy it because it is nice to put faces to the names of people my husband works with, and for the most part psychiatrists seem to be intelligent, interesting people so I don’t mind their company that much. Typically, a bunch of salads, side dishes, and meats (and let’s not forget the alcohol) are ordered and everyone shares – unlike such gatherings in the U.S. where everyone orders their own dish. It took me awhile to get used to the idea (and get used to non-relatives sticking their forks in the shared plates of food, although not everyone does that, thank god) but now I kinda like it, because it gives me a chance to try things I never would have tried on my own (who knew I loved fava beans?!).

The general agreement when it comes to paying for meals like this is to divide the total evenly amongst the number of people. It seems to work well, I’ve never heard a complaint, even if someone doesn’t drink or eat much, and since it is generally a group around the same professional level, money (or lack thereof) isn’t really an issue because most everyone makes about the same salary. The cost almost always comes to about fifteen euros a person, which is really a bargain considering the sheer amount of food and drink ordered and consumed.

I don’t know exactly how it happens, but every time we put all the money together (after a tense few seconds where everyone wonders if it will be enough) we end up with twenty euros (or more) too much. So every time, we all redo the math to make sure the per person amount is correct (it always is), question if someone didn’t get change if they had a bigger bill, etc., but we come up with nothing. So if someone did get shorted, they don’t speak up. Of course, since I first started noticing this phenomenon, I’ve watched the money collection process very closely – who pays the exact amount, that people get the change they deserve – and there are no errors. So it is perplexing where this extra money comes from, and what to do with it. Sure, we could leave it as a tip, except most tavernas have a 13% or so tip built into their prices, so the general rule there is to leave a couple of euros extra, certainly not twenty. Most attendees regard the extra money as if it is the plague and leave the table, but I assume someone eventually takes it. But where does it come from? Obviously, there is money just walking around all over Greece - probably sad, lonely money – that sees a pile of its own kind and decides to jump on. That is the only explanation. Until I come up with a better one, I will be closely monitoring the situation, because we all know money doesn’t fall from trees.

Happy landings are all alike

2008-06-01T18:15:00.002+03:00

For all you airplane fans out there I present to you the money shot of airplane porn - the landing video. In other words, this is footage my aviator nut husband took of our landing in Thessaloniki on our way home from our trip to Crete. All in all, it looks pretty cool to see our fair city from the sky.

The shot is a little weird a bit into it because my husband, brilliant man that he is, decided to turn the camera around to take the video. Thankfully we were able to turn it around with software and it doesn't take too much from the total experience. It would have been better had we not been next to the wing, though.

Is there a better way to tell the world you're an asshole?

2008-05-31T15:42:00.002+03:00

Supreme Court prosecutor Giorgos Sanidas moved yesterday to block the country’s first gay marriage after the mayor of the island of Tilos said he was willing to go ahead with the ceremony.

Sanidas intervened to stop the ceremony that has been planned to take place this summer by declaring same-sex marriages illegal.

“Marriage between gays is not provided in current legislation and the Constitution,” said Sanidas in a circular sent to prosecutors in Rhodes. The prosecutor also said the mayor of Tilos, Tassos Aliferis, would face criminal charges if he went ahead with the wedding.

I guess Greece isn't interested in staying in the E.U. Honestly, if a mostly Catholic country like Spain can allow gay marriages, an Orthodox country like Greece can do it too. And for those people who say that gays can take advantage of the system by getting married, plenty of heterosexual marriages are farces - maybe we should ban all marriage.

For a Phoenix that won't rise from the ashes

2008-05-25T16:39:00.005+03:00

Here's to a safe landing for the Phoenix Mars Lander. I'll have my fingers crossed tonight.

I'm so ready to learn what Phoenix can tell us. Will Mars show signs of habitability? I really hope so!

UPDATE: First possible landing confirmation could come at 16:53 pacific time (02:53 Greek time).

UPDATE #2: Phoenix had a successful landing! Looks like Team Earth is finally going to tie the score!

Forget the minotaurs...who wants to see tourists?

2008-05-24T17:59:00.008+03:00

Crete. It is an island that invokes intrigue amongst Greeks and foreigners alike with stories of the Cretan mafia, monstrous facial hair, the mystery of the disk of Phaestos, minotaurs, and Minoan castles. Yet, despite its deep cultural and historical roots, it is also an island ripe for tourism. The latter is the island we visited last week.

The travel agency arranging the conference booked us on two flights with two different airlines to get to Crete, which means that what amounted to about 85 minutes in the air took us about 7 hours, most of that time spent waiting in airports. You’d be surprised how tiring just sitting around an airport is, although my husband was quite delighted at the two hours we got to spend on the observation floor of the Athens airport (as evidenced by this photo, one of ten million he took of planes on this trip). We got to Iraklion around 11pm, and thankfully there was a nice comfy bus waiting to transport us to our hotel, which would take another thirty minutes of travel time. During that time we discovered something new about Crete – about every mile there was a Russian sable fur shop, and most of them were still open that late at night! Now, I try not to make assumptions as to what these shops are really about, but I’m still trying to figure out why someone on Crete would wear fur, considering it never gets that cold on the islands. All I could figure is maybe these are discounted prices aimed at Northern tourists on the island. Anyway, apparently Crete has a Russian population, which was news to us.

Our hotel was the Albatros Spa & Resort Hotel, located within walking distance of the conference center in the Hersonissos beach area. We weren’t quite sure what to expect, but we had a rather large room with a balcony overlooking the pool area and it was quite lovely. Various views from our balcony:

While my husband attended lectures all day, I either sat near the pool (but in the shade, of course) or on our balcony and read or listened to This American Life podcasts while spying on the activities poolside. Apparently, all the resort hotels in this area (maybe in all of Crete or Greece?) have something called “Animation events”, which is basically a euphemism for annoying activities that piss off old people. The “Animation team” at our hotel consisted of two guys who constantly bothered people by the pool to participate in yoga, darts, quizzes, dances, and other wacky activities while blasting a stereo to eleven with the most annoying music possible. One of the guys was rather interesting to spy on, as he was constantly flirting with the sparce population of single girls by the pool. We actually witnessed him going off with these girls, I’m sure it was easy for him this time of year when the majority of tourists seem to be older couples or people with families.

On Thursday night we went to a small village a few kilometers away to meet up with some of my husband’s colleagues at Taverna Sofas:

My husband and I considered going to the archeological museum and the aquarium in Iraklion (I wanted to see the palace at Knossos, but that was out of the question due to the sun and my disabilities – we weren’t sure if it was handicapped accessible or not), but we decided to just enjoy lunches in the shade by the pool at our hotel and strolling along the beach promenade in the evenings, which was gorgeous and quite relaxing.

View from cafe along the promenade

The promenade

As if we couldn't tell....

It was a never ending stream of people watching – and the tourists seemed to come from everywhere, so it was fun hearing a confluence of languages all around us. The tourists there seemed to prefer to not have a “Greek” experience – when it came to food they wanted steak, and most of the restaurants around the promenade catered to tourist tastes with menus that included steaks, pizza, and general types of foods, with very few Greek dishes. The Greek dishes they did have seemed to be “dumbed down” for the tourists, so when we got back home I was clamoring for dinner at a real Greek taverna. I do have to admit that the pizza I had at the “Il Camino” restaurant was quite good, and there was a café called “Dolce Vita” that had excellent homemade ice cream (mint chocolate chip – I was in heaven!). Basically, if you plan a trip to such a place, don’t expect traditional Greek fare. I’d hunt around for some locals to tell you good places to go for Greek food (Sofas was ok and had a Greek menu, but it still seemed a bit “touristy”).

I don’t think I’ve had such a relaxing vacation in a long time. It was nice not being concerned about museum closing times, where we would get a cab, how long it would take to get there, etc., so in a way I’m glad we didn’t plan to do those touristy things, even though I’d love to see the Phaestos disk in person, and I’m still bummed I didn’t catch sight of the minotaur. Maybe next time.

Vacation blues

2008-05-21T19:13:00.000+03:00

There are a few reasons why I don’t like to travel. One of them is what I call post-holiday depression, a terrible low I go through after coming home from a nice vacation. It isn’t that I don’t like being home, quite the contrary. But when your travels have been enjoyable and you don’t often have the opportunity to go away, it is a bit of a letdown when it is over. I suppose it is stupid to use this feeling as a reason not to take a trip, but I’m really not sure if a couple of days of fun are worth a week or two of depression.

To add insult to injury, we were barely back from Crete for 36 hours before it was time for my parents to go home. I had initially thought that five weeks with my parents might be overkill for all of us, but I guess I’ve entered that stage of my life where I realize my parents are definitely not immortal, and the time I spend with them is measured in days and weeks instead of months and years. I miss them.

I promise a more entertaining (and less depressing) account of my trip to Crete along with pictures soon.

Cretan holiday

2008-05-13T19:14:00.002+03:00

The hubby and I are headed to Crete tomorrow for a five-day sojourn. The main focus of the trip is so my husband can attend a psychiatric conference, but I plan on having fun despite being surrounded by every shrink in Greece.

Hopefully I'll have lots of pictures to share when we return.

My parents are stuck here to care for our cats. Wish them luck.

LOLZ

2008-05-09T13:37:00.003+03:00

From Kathimerini, May 9th Cartoon of the Day

Cold mountain

2008-05-08T22:48:00.001+03:00

When my parents came to Greece five years ago for our wedding, they came at exactly the same time of year, so they kinda had an idea of what to expect weather wise. Since we were sweating to death by the wedding day and were grateful for any air conditioning we could get, they packed for a warm Greek late spring. I certainly didn’t tell them any different, since my experience living here has taught me that things are usually reasonably warm by May, and I actually worried that they might be too hot again like they were last time around.

Nope.

Instead we have had the coldest late April/early May temperatures I have experienced since living here, and I can almost guarantee with certainty I’ve never been this cold this time of year in my entire life. Yes, we are still running the heat, which I know is a first for me. In Nashville I was usually full blasting the A/C come May. My poor mother has nearly frozen to death, and my dad, who has spent his entire life being too hot (like me) has even complained about being cold.

Since this weather is completely anomalous for Greece and my parents have a history of perpetually rainy vacations, I think I’ll blame them for bringing this unseasonal weather. I ~~hope~~ bet I’ll be complaining about the heat as soon as they leave.

Five years?!?!

2008-05-03T20:28:00.002+03:00

Today marks our 5th anniversary of wedded bless, but tomorrow will be our 6th anniversary. How do we manage that? Well, we got married in the U.S. a year before we got married here in Greece. Of course, our American (and thus, non-Orthodox) wedding doesn't really count in the eyes of my in-laws. Five years doesn't seem like very long when all these other people I know have been married 15+ years, but I guess it is a bit of an accomplishment for me, since I usually can't stand to be around people (even people I like) for more than a few hours.

We went to Litochoro for the day, accompanied by my parents. It is kinda weird having chaperones for an anniversary celebration, but since Thanos and I get plenty of time alone together, it was ok having my parents along. I was glad to show them my most favorite place in the world, and of course they were in awe of Mt. Olympus.

I'll be sappy now, and say that anniversaries are no more special than any other day I spend with my beloved. I am definitely blessed with the best (ok, although sometimes annoying) husband in the world for me (not to take away from all the other best husbands other women have).

Adaptation

2008-04-30T16:50:00.001+03:00

My parents have been here for two weeks now and I think their visit is at least somewhat satisfactory. Last week was a whirlwind of museums and constant trips downtown, along with Easter celebrations in the heart of Thessaloniki. My in-laws had invited us to their house in Halkidiki for the holiday, but since my parents had already celebrated Easter there five years ago, I wanted them to experience the superb chanting at the Church of the Acheiropoietas, which is the only church I’ve ever gone in where I have actually felt something aside from the normal discomfort I usually feel in holy places (my short video of last year’s resurrection service can be found here). The chanters there are the best I’ve ever heard – even better than most CDs of Orthodox holy music. So, we booked a couple of hotel rooms at a downtown hotel for Saturday night and enjoyed a quiet Easter to ourselves.

All in all I think it is rather hard for my parents to adapt to life in Greece. They are in their 70’s and the convenience of things in America makes things here seem so much more complicated. Certainly there is some truth to that, but I’ve adapted to washing machines with more than just four basic settings, to hanging my clothes to dry, to shops being closed during hours that might be considered inconvenient, and to stepping around goat turds in my driveway. Of course, some things are our choices, like not having a dryer or a microwave and choosing wood floors instead of wall to wall carpeting. But I’ve adjusted, and in the end, things really don’t seem that much more difficult. Then again, it has been awhile since I’ve lived in the U.S. so maybe I’ve just forgotten.

As to the things they have adapted to, well, my dad has made friends with all the neighborhood dogs, and one of them likes to accompany him when he takes his walks. They’ve gotten to know one of the local shepherds (who apparently speaks just enough English for basic communication) and they’ve learned their way around our little village (my dad was even able to buy some things at the bakery without any assistance). The true test will be when my husband and I go to Crete for five days and my parents will be forced to make it on their own (with a little help from my brother-in-law). I think they can handle it.

I’m just happy to see them, even if my dad has taken over my computer.

File under: What were they thinking?

2008-04-23T23:53:00.002+03:00

It isn't uncommon for stores and cafes here to have English names here, and sure, some of them really don't make any sense to native English speakers. However, most of them aren't scatological in nature, like this cafe my dad snapped a picture of while we were out driving around:

Kinda makes you wonder what exactly they put in their coffee.

Wuthering goats

2008-04-19T00:01:00.002+03:00

My parents are here for a five week Greek adventure, and since my internet time has dropped to nearly nothing, I offer you goats. Goats that quite possibly won't be around after April 27th.

Absolut hypcrisy

2008-04-08T19:42:00.001+03:00

Now let me get this straight. The U.S. supports F.Y.R.O.M.’s inclusion into the E.U., even though it is a country that teaches its citizens that the Macedonian region of Greece is “occupied” territory that actually belongs to them. Yet the U.S. gets all pissy about an Absolut ad campaign in Mexico that shows an early map of the United States – with all the territory Mexico once had.

I do love my country, but before the U.S. starts getting it’s panties in a wad about this, they should remember that most of the U.S. could be considered “occupied” territory, not just by Mexico, but by the American Indians and even by Britain. So I dare the United States to claim they don’t understand Greece’s objection to F.Y.R.O.M.’s NATO bid, when they can’t even accept an advertisement that depicts a historical map and the hopes of Mexicans who wish they had never ceded all that land.

Quirky meme

2008-04-04T15:09:00.001+03:00

I've been tagged by Jay3gsm, EllasDevil, and Kat for this meme, when I’m tripled teamed it is hard not to comply.

These are the rules:
1. When tagged, place the name and URL of the tagger on your blog.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write 7 non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself?
4. Name 7 of your favorite blogs.
5. Send an email/comment on their blog letting them know they have been tagged.

Write 7 non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself:

1. I love disaster movies, especially circa. 1990’s made-for-TV ones. The worse the script and the acting, the better. I’m lucky I live in Greece because the Greek channels have managed to get hold of all these movies and play them on a regular basis.
2. I eat pie filling first, pie crust last (this applies to traditional U.S. type pies, not Greek pies)
3. When I’m scooping the litter box, I pretend it is a game of “find the treasure”, except the “treasure” is nothing you want to keep.
4. I love vacuum cleaners. We have two, and the AEG Vampyr is my favorite.
5. Whenever I eat anything with a wrapper, I fold the wrapper up into a tiny little square and sit on it until I get up to throw it away.
6. I am obsessed with weather details – wind speed, temperature, forecasts. Doppler radar makes me swoon.
7. I check the EMSC (European Mediterranean Seismological Center) site twenty times a day and try to find patterns from earthquakes that occur in Greece.

Name 7 of your favorite blogs (none of whom I am officially tagging, unless they wanna):

1. American in Athens (already tagged)

2. This is Not My Country (already tagged)

3. EllasDevil (already tagged)

4. Rice, Beans, and Pastichio (already tagged)

5. Nicole in London

6. The Vol Abroad (who has the cutest of the cute babies)

7. pitcherlady

Remembrance

2008-03-31T11:38:00.001+03:00

O lost, and by the wind grieved – ghost, come back again.

Thomas Wolfe
Look Homeward, Angel

In loving memory of Jeff, Drew, and Sherri, and others all over the world who have had their precious lives cut short at the hands of drunk drivers.

Please, don’t drink and drive.

It's a start...

2008-03-29T17:34:00.002+02:00

...but let's hope it isn't just for show and we get some results, and that they will actually invite some people from the gay and lesbian community in Greece to work on this committee.

From Kathimerini:

The Justice Ministry has pledged to establish a working group on the rights of gay couples living together, following a request by the National Commission for Human Rights. The ministry said it would set up a working group, with the help of the commission, “to analyze all aspects of the issue, international practice and the existing domestic legal and social framework.”

Fasting? Why suffer?

2008-03-26T20:47:00.001+02:00

Last night I had the strangest dream. In it, I was eating the most moist, delicious chocolate cake I had ever had. In the middle of the cake was a thick layer of chocolate cream. I could taste every fabulous bite, and it was so good I didn’t want to wake up.

Nothing lets you know you’ve been fasting too long than dreaming about cake. I never dream about food, so I know it was a side-effect of an extreme lack of chocolate. Of course, the first thing I did online today was search for vegan chocolate cake recipes. I found one that had a high rating, and decided to try it. It may just be the dessert recipe that saves this fasting period. It definitely deserves the four and a half star rating, and it is easy enough to make I’ll probably make it instead of traditional cake even when we aren’t fasting.

God bless the internet. I've found so many delicious vegan recipes, fasting has become a fun way to try new things that become a regular part of our diet.

Happy Indepedence Day Ellada!*

2008-03-25T11:42:00.003+02:00

Your freedom from the Ottoman Empire was a long time coming, so the start of the revolution in 1821 was a shining moment for Greece.

ΖΗΤΩ Η ΕΛΛΑΣ!!!

*For anyone who doesn't know much about the history of the War of Independence against Ottoman rule, go to EllasDevil's post about it here.

Go Bruins!

2008-03-20T19:35:00.004+02:00

Well, my alma mater's basketball team has once again made it to the NCAA tournament (college basketball, for those who don't know). They are going against Duke tonight, which is a hard team to beat. Still, win or lose, they've done Belmont proud.

GO BRUINS!!

EDIT: Final score, 71-70 Duke. Must have been an exciting game! The Bruins had the win in their sights, and gave Duke a run for their money.

Happy Ostara (Vernal Equinox)!

2008-03-20T15:41:00.003+02:00

The first day of spring has finally arrived after an ingloriously cold winter. Unfortunately, the weather up here on the mountain is 40 degrees (5 degrees Celsius), rainy, and foggy.

Still, we caught our first glimpse of the newborn sheep the other day, as they made their way with unsure steps up the mountain to graze. Still a little wobbly, most of them clung to their mothers, but several showed their playful sides. I was too mesmerized by all the cuteness to think to take a picture.

Here's hoping for a Spring full of bloom, peace, and wellbeing.

Greek bloggers against discrimination

2008-03-19T18:04:00.003+02:00

As soon as I was old enough to understand the concept of sexuality and homosexuality, I was a proponent of gay rights. I had enough homosexual and lesbian friends to recognize that they were treated unfairly by the majority of society. We can hope the times have changed, but in Greece homosexuality seems to be dirtiest of dirty words, thanks to ignorance and religion.

Currently there is a lot of buzz in Greece about a domestic partnership law that would give certain rights to unmarried couples living together, however, it explicitly discounts same-sex couples. Greece is way behind in the European Union when it comes to rights for same-sex partnerships, and it is about time all these voices are heard.

From gaysuperhero and Devious Diva:

(English translation follows)

Στην Ελλάδα οι γκέι, οι λεσβίες και οι τρανσέξουαλ γνωρίζουν από διακρίσεις. Τις αντιμετωπίζουν καθημερινά στην οικογένεια, την κοινωνική ζωή και τον επαγγελματικό στίβο.

Καμιά φορά όμως φτάνει μια σταγόνα για να ξεχειλίσει το ποτήρι.

Σύμφωνα με δημοσιεύματα του τύπου το Υπουργείο Δικαιοσύνης ετοιμάζεται να καθιερώσει ένα "συμβόλαιο συμβίωσης" ΑΠΟΚΛΕΙΣΤΙΚΑ για τα ετερόφυλα ζευγάρια. Δεν θεωρούμε ότι ένα απλό "συμβόλαιο" μπορεί να λύσει τα ζητήματα των ζευγαριών ίδιου φύλου, ούτε να εξασφαλίσει την ισότιμη μεταχείρισή τους. Πιστεύουμε όμως ότι η προτεινόμενη διάκριση είναι κατάφωρα αντίθετη τόσο με το ελληνικό Σύνταγμα όσο και με τις ευρωπαϊκές συνθήκες για τα δικαιώματα του ανθρώπου. Πόσο μάλλον όταν 18 ευρωπαϊκές χώρες ήδη παρέχουν νομική κατοχύρωση στα ζευγάρια ίδιου φύλου.

Σκοπός αυτής της πρωτοβουλίας είναι να ενημερωθούν σχετικά οι ευρωπαϊκοί θεσμοί, οι οργανώσεις για τα ανθρώπινα δικαιώματα, ιστοσελίδες και ιστολόγια σε όλο τον κόσμο. Αυτό που ζητάμε είναι ίσα δικαιώματα για όλους. Τίποτα παραπάνω, τίποτα λιγότερο.

Αυτή τη φορά δεν θα μείνουμε σιωπηλοί. Αυτή τη φορά δεν θα κάτσουμε με σταυρωμένα χέρια.

ΕΛΛΗΝΕΣ ΜΠΛΟΓΚΕΡ ΕΝΑΝΤΙΟΝ ΤΩΝ ΔΙΑΚΡΙΣΕΩΝ

In Greece gays, lesbians and transexuals know about discrimination. They face it daily from their families, in their social lives and in the professional field.

But sometimes, all it takes is a single straw to break the camel's back.

According to press reports, the greek government is preparing to introduce a domestic partnership "contract" EXCLUSIVELY for unmarried heterosexual couples. We do not believe that a mere "contract" can resolve the issues same-sex couples face or ensure their fair treatment under the law. However this discriminatory proposal is a direct contravention of the greek Constitution, as well as european human rights treaties. Especially since same-sex couples already enjoy legal rights in 18 european nations.

The aim of this intervention is to make sure that european institutions, human rights organisations, websites and weblogs from around the world learn about these proposals. What we ask for is equal rights for all. Nothing more and nothing less.

This time around we will not sit idly by. This time around we will not keep silent.

GREEK BLOGGERS AGAINST DISCRIMINATION

...................................................................................

Στην πρωτουβουλία ΕΛΛΗΝΕΣ ΜΠΛΟΓΚΕΡ ΕΝΑΝΤΙΟΝ ΤΩΝ ΔΙΑΚΡΙΣΕΩΝ συμμετέχουν το εξής ιστολόγια / the following weblogs participate in this initiative:

http://abravanel.wordpress.com/

http://adultmagicpotions.blogspot.com/
http://alloparmenos.blogspot.com/

http://alximist.blogspot.com/

http://a-mpa.blogspot.com/

http://www.amvro.blogspot.com/

http://anamorfosh.blogspot.com/

http://angela-lucy.blogspot.com/

http://anilikos.blogspot.com/

http://www.blog.anti.gr/

http://aphroditescomments.blogspot.com/

http://apsoy.blogspot.com/

http://aratepylas.blogspot.com/

http://asheets.blogspot.com/

http://aster-oid.blogspot.com/

http://athens.indymedia.org/

http://athinakisdimitris.wordpress.com/

http://athlieskores.blogspot.com/

http://atix.psfiles.com/

http://www.bajoelsignodelibra.blogspot.com/

http://bewleybros.blogspot.com/

http://billzk.blogspot.com/

http://www.blog-o-friends.blogspot.com/

http://blog.teleologikos.eu/

http://celsius33.blogspot.com/

http://changegreecenow.blogspot.com/

http://cineparmenhkaiskula.blogspot.com/

http://cookiebashing.blogspot.com/

http://darkenlight.wordpress.com/

http://deadend-mind.blogspot.com/

http://defactobar.blogspot.com/

http://deilogos.wordpress.com/

http://deviousdiva.com/

http://dreamsgr.blogspot.com/

http://dustroad.blogspot.com/

http://elel.wordpress.com/

http://enteka.blogspot.com/

http://erisabetsu.blogspot.com/

http://erimosiparalia.blogspot.com/

http://e-roosters.blogspot.com/

http://equilibrium-chaos.blogspot.com/

http://etalon-etalon.blogspot.com/

http://ethanandthecity.wordpress.com/

http://elementstv.blogspot.com/

http://elerran-tessera.blogspot.com/

http://ellontia.pblogs.gr/

http://emmones-idees.blogspot.com/

http://en-maimounoskala.blogspot.com/

http://epidemios.blogspot.com/

http://erimosiparalia.blogspot.com/

http://etsieinaihzwh.blogspot.com/

http://exiledinberlin.wordpress.com/

http://fiddleofthepan.blogspot.com/

http://fileleytheros.wordpress.com/

http://floga-gr.pblogs.gr/

http://athensvoice.gr/blogs/froutadiko/

http://www.folkefiende.blogspot.com/

http://freedomineed.blogspot.com/

http://freedomisland.wordpress.com/

http://gatti-squared.blogspot.com/

http://www.gaynewsingreek.blogspot.com/

http://www.gayrightsgreece.blogspot.com/

http://gazakas.wordpress.com/

http://gerasimos-memoryland.blogspot.com/

http://giaskepsou.blogspot.com/

http://gordongr.blogspot.com/

http://greatanubis.blogspot.com/

http://greecerella.blogspot.com/

http://www.greek-lolita.blogspot.com/

http://greektrans.blogspot.com/

http://gremiii.blogspot.com/

http://gsus-saved.blogspot.com/

http://gxmas.easyjournal.com/

http://harrytsopanos.blogspot.com/

http://hfaistiwnas.blogspot.com/

http://hommesweethomme.wordpress.com/

http://hotel-iris.blogspot.com/

http://j-jimmy-rose.blogspot.com/

http://jigiart.blogspot.com/

http://ifigeneia.blogspot.com/

http://iknow.sanddigital.com/wordpress/

http://incontinentia-luchalibre.blogspot.com/

http://inout.sanddigital.com/

http://imarias.wordpress.com/

http://imikriollandeza.blogspot.com/

http://impressedguy.wordpress.com/

http://indictos.wordpress.com/

http://isimeria.blogspot.com/

http://istherelifeafterbirth.blogspot.com/

http://iphimedea.blogspot.com/

http://j-jimmy-rose.blogspot.com/

http://jigiart.blogspot.com/

http://katwvolta.blogspot.com/

http://kalapas.blogspot.com/

http://keen-on-boys.blogspot.com/

http://keipi.blogspot.com/

http://knight-of-cups.blogspot.com/

http://koblopoulos.blogspot.com/

http://kousouri.blogspot.com/

http://lalunaoscura.blogcindario.com/

http://www.lastnightidreamtthatsomebodylovedme.com/

http://legallyblonde78.blogspot.com/

http://lianokladi01.blogspot.com/

http://like-a-movie.blogspot.com/

http://lolitasequel.blogspot.com/

http://luclebelge.skynetblogs.be/

http://lyssis.blogspot.com/

http://mahler76.blogspot.com/

http://megalokopela.blogspot.com/

http://melaxroinimarmarigi.blogspot.com/

http://merawen.blogspot.com/

http://metanoeiste.wordpress.com/

http://mhulotsnothingdays.blogspot.com/

http://miaarkoudapouthneleganbetty.blogspot.com/

http://mikroanalogo.blogspot.com/

http://moodygirlland.blogspot.com/

http://motherfuckin-bitch.pblogs.gr/

http://mourlopedo.blogspot.com/

http://mpaknana.blogspot.com/

http://www.musenol.blogspot.com/

http://my-greece.blogspot.com/

http://www.nanakos.blogspot.com/

http://www.naterradosdeuses.blogspot.com/

http://naftilos.blogspot.com/

http://naya-dreamthrum.blogspot.com/

http://naytilostoydiadiktyoy.blogspot.com/

http://neverlandean.blogspot.com/

http://nicholas-manie-edge.blogspot.com/

http://nikospdj.blogspot.com/

http://nocturnegr.blogspot.com/

http://novideodoni.wordpress.com/

http://novito.blogspot.com/

http://okaloslykos.blogspot.com/

http://omadag.blogspot.com/

http://onceyougochub.blogspot.com/

http://onebigdj.blogspot.com/

http://oneiros.gr/blog

http://orestiss.blogspot.com/

http://paolofuego.blogspot.com/

http://panoptis.blogspot.com/

http://parafyada.blogspot.com/

http://www.parkyourdots.com/

http://5zoes.blogspot.com/

http://pethamenofeggari.blogspot.com/

http://www.lifoland.gr/blogs/pink_fish/index.html

http://pitsirikos.blogspot.com/

http://pliats.blogspot.com/

http://poontangdee.wordpress.com/

http://potepote.blogspot.com/

http://povofag.blogspot.com/

http://prezatv.blogspot.com/

http://provatos.blogspot.com/

http://pyrroulas.blogspot.com/

http://quelmarth.blogspot.com/

http://raptusr.blogspot.com/

http://raresteak.wordpress.com/

http://respirarsilencio.blogspot.com/

http://revqueer.blogspot.com/

http://rodiat7.blogspot.com/

http://roides.wordpress.com/

http://salepi.blogspot.com/

http://sandman-chronicles.blogspot.com/

http://sensualmonk.blogspot.com/

http://sevenfilmgallery.blogspot.com/

http://sexinanothercity.blogspot.com/

http://simplethoughtssimplewords.wordpress.com/

http://www.skylesthslyssas.blogspot.com/

http://sorolop.blogspot.com/

http://stereonova.blogspot.com/

http://straths8alassinos.wordpress.com/

http://theaquariumram.blogspot.com/

http://thebsouth.blogspot.com/

http://the-hourglass-of-life.blogspot.com/

http://themotorcycleboy.blogspot.com/

http://theseis.blogspot.com/

http://thesparrow.wordpress.com/

http://the-wrong-guy.blogspot.com/

http://tistrellis.pblogs.gr/

http://www.toksilotisarkoudas.blogspot.com/

http://tobriki.blogspot.com/

http://toumanidis.blogspot.com/

http://tradescadia.blogspot.com/

http://transs-transsexual.blogspot.com/

http://tsarlatann.blogspot.com/

http://tsimitakis.wordpress.com/

http://u-blogme.blogspot.com/

http://www.umhomemgrego.blogspot.com/

http://www.unamiradagay.blogspot.com/

http://vassilisk.blogspot.com/

http://vathia.blogspot.com/

http://vithos-tou-bikini.blogspot.com/

http://viviangiadikiaroglou.blogspot.com/

http://vjspyros.blogspot.com/

http://voltsekgayworld.blogspot.com/

http://yesmrbob.blogspot.com/

http://yotambiensoydelac.blogspot.com/

http://xasodikis.blogspot.com/

http://xomeritis.blogspot.com/

http://zygines.blogspot.com/

Όποια ή όποιος δεν βλέπει το ιστολόγιό του στη λίστα παρακαλώ ας επικοινωνήσει μαζί μας!

Τα θερμά μου συγχαρητήρια σε όλες και όλους! Είστε απλά ανεπανάληπτοι!

Για την πρωτοβουλία μας και την αντίστοιχη πρωτοβουλία της οργάνωσης ΟΛΚΕ για τον πολιτικό γάμο έχουν ενημερωθεί (με την πολύτιμη βοήθεια του Πολύχρωμου Πλανήτη) οι εξής οργανώσεις και ιστοσελίδες του εξωτερικού:

Human Rights Watch

Ilga-Europe

OutRage!

International Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission

Inter-LGBT

All Different All Equal

The Task Force

Washington Blade

GLAAD

COC Nederland

Gay Middle East

PinkNews.co.uk

365gay.com

lesbian.org

expressgaynews.com

afterellen.com

afterelton.com

247gay.com

Επίσης τα περιοδικά Advocate, Tetu, Gay Times και Gay City News, το Υπουργείο Δικαιοσύνης, όλες οι μεγάλες ελληνικές εφημερίδες και όλοι οι βουλευτές του ευρωκοινοβουλίου.

'Οποια ή όποιος έχει κάποια άλλη πρόταση για οργανώσεις ή ιστοσελίδες, ας επικοινωνήσει (υπάρχει τυποποιημένο κείμενο επιστολής).

The entertainer

2008-03-18T20:18:00.002+02:00

On Sunday I am fixing my first official meal for my in-laws (hmm, at least I didn’t mistakenly type “of” instead of “for”). It seems like a long time – five years – to invite them over for dinner, but I’ve had pretty good excuses until now, including not living in Thessaloniki and not having a proper eating area. Finally, we have dining and living room furniture, so I can actually play hostess again.

What was my mother-in-law’s initial response to the invitation? “I don’t want to have you cooking for so many people, let’s just go out somewhere” (the number of people will be 8 if my brother-in-law and his wife come). Yes, of course, after we’ve spent some money on an eight seater dining room table our intent is to invite people over to go out to dinner. I like cooking, and I think I’m relatively good at it (as long as I pay attention and don’t use twice as much butter as a recipe calls for), so I’m thrilled to finally be able to fix a good meal for my in-laws, especially after countless delicious dinners at their house. It will be a bit more challenging to come up with an interesting menu, since we are all fasting, but I figure you can’t go wrong with tofu lasagna.

As for the house, all we really need now is a couple of rugs for the living and dining room floors (ok, that dark African wood is gorgeous, but even the cleanest foot leaves a print and drives me crazy) and curtains (the rods are being installed this week). We haven’t gotten furniture for the guest bedroom yet, but that is something that can be accomplished relatively quickly at IKEA. After that, it is all cosmetic, putting up pictures, combing through boxes, organizing storage closets, etc.

I’m finally home. And I’m loving it (crap, I hope McDonald’s doesn’t sue me for stealing their slogan there).

One week down, six more to go

2008-03-18T00:20:00.002+02:00

see more crazy cat pics

Got blackmail? Apparently, it works!

2008-03-13T21:27:00.001+02:00

I don’t pretend to know as much about strike action as Europeans do because, let’s face it, I’m American. However, I do have some concept about what constitutes mistreatment of labor and what is right. Yes, the pension system in Greece is all kinds of effed up. Yes, a big part of the blame is on the government, but in my mind it is because they didn’t adopt a single system of benefits for pensions years ago. But striking for weeks, causing consistent power outages throughout the country, letting trash pile up on the streets – not because you want the government to do what is right, but because you just don’t want them to mess with YOUR stash - is pretty messed up. To add to it, striking workers are throwing trash at police, making filthy streets even filthier, and I have to wonder if the human race isn’t devolving a bit here. Greeks have a wonderful propensity for giving when tragedies occur, but when it comes to working rights and pensions (and the workings of the government in general), they seem to be very egocentric.

And so, in the thick of this political quagmire, the government is caving and looking at reforms. Hey, people might be able to retire after 37 years on the job even if they haven’t yet reached the ripe, entirely useless to society age of 57. Fifty-seven. If only hard working Americans could retire at such a young age. When people can retire so young, no wonder money is running out in some pension accounts! God forbid workers strike for golden toilets, feather beds, and houses made of cheese, they might just get it. When you hold the country hostage, the government has to comply to your demands.

I do think people should have the right to strike, but holding out on crucial services, putting your country at risk of a blackout, or a public health hazard – basically keeping other hard working people from living and enjoying their lives – is nothing but cold hard blackmail. These unions won’t even offer an alternative solution to the pension reforms the government is proposing. That is because these unions want what they want with no compromises. Greece is never going to get anywhere when people have this kind of attitude. If your pay is below poverty level and you haven’t had a raise in two years – then strike. If you aren’t allowed any breaks in an eight hour shift – then strike. If you are forced to work overtime with no extra pay – then strike.

God bless Greece. I hope she comes out of this alive.

One time only

2008-03-11T19:33:00.000+02:00

My husband actually changed the bag in the bathroom trash can.

Life is good.

Bye, bye cheese

2008-03-10T15:55:00.000+02:00

Today is “Clean Monday”, which means everyone in Greece goes out and flies kites into power lines. Unfortunately, it also means the start of the 48 day very strict fasting period before Easter. We’ll be going vegan again, and the first day is always the hardest. I’m grumpy, I’m sad, and I’m going to miss my beloved cheese. In honor of my depression, I’m stealing EllasDevil’s monthly meme, since I’m too sore to talk about anything else.

Have You Ever…(everything in bold is something I have done)

01. Bought everyone in the bar a drink
02. Swam with wild dolphins
03. Climbed a mountain
04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
05. Been inside the Great Pyramid
06. Held a tarantula
07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. Said 'I love you' and meant it
09. Hugged a tree
10. Bungee jumped.
11. Visited Paris
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea
13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise (ok, I do this ALL THE TIME)
14. Seen the Northern Lights
15. Gone to a huge sports game
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa (the damn thing was being worked on when I was there! Not that I would have climbed the stairs anyway)
17. Grown and eaten my own vegetables (ok, well, my parents were the official growers)
18. Touched an iceberg
19. Slept under the stars
20. Changed a baby's diaper
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. Watched a meteor shower
23. Gotten drunk on champagne
24. Given more than I could afford to charity
25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
27. Had a food fight
28. Bet on a winning horse
29. Asked out a stranger
30. Had a snowball fight
31. Screamed as loudly as I possibly could
32. Held a lamb
33. Seen a total eclipse
34. Ridden a roller coaster
35. Hit a home run
36. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking.
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day
38. Actually felt happy about my life, even for just a moment
39. Had two hard drives for my computer (um, I do now…)
40. Visited all 50 states
41. Taken care of someone who was drunk.
42. Had amazing friends
43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. Watched wild whales
45. Stolen a sign
46. Backpacked in Europe
47. Taken a road-trip.
48. Gone rock climbing.
49. Taken a midnight walk on the beach.
50. Gone sky diving.
51. Visited Ireland.
52. Been heartbroken longer then I was actually in love with the person.
53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger's table and had a meal with them.
54. Visited Japan.
55. Milked a cow.
56. Alphabetized my CDs.
57. Pretended to be a superhero.
58. Sung karaoke.
59. Lounged around in bed all day.
60. Posed nude in front of strangers.
61. Gone scuba diving.
62. Kissed in the rain.
63. Played in the mud.
64. Played in the rain.
65. Gone to a drive-in theater.
66. Visited the Great Wall of China.
67. Started a business.
68. Fallen in love with someone and not had my heart broken.
69. Toured ancient sites.
70. Taken a martial arts class.
71. Played D&D for more than six hours straight.
72. Gotten married.
73. Been in a movie.
74. Crashed a party.
75. Gotten divorced.
76. Gone without food for 5 days.
77. Made cookies from scratch.
78. Won first prize in a costume contest.
79. Ridden a gondola in Venice.
80. Gotten a tattoo.
81. Rafted the Snake River.
82. Been on a television news program.
83. Received flowers for no reason.
84. Performed on stage.
85. Been to Las Vegas.
86. Recorded music.
87. Eaten shark.
88. Had a one-night stand.
89. Gone to Thailand.
90. Bought a house.
91. Been in a combat zone.
92. Buried one of my parents.
93. Been on a cruise ship.
94. Spoken more than one language fluently.
95. Performed in Rocky Horror Picture Show.
96. Raised children.
97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour. (well, they didn’t really have a tour, per se, and I went more for moral support than anything else)
98. Created and named my own constellation of stars.
99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country.
100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over.
101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge.
102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn't stop when I knew someone was looking.
103. Had plastic surgery.
104. Survived an illness that I shouldn't have survived.
105. Written articles for a large publication.
106. Lost over 100 pounds.
107. Held someone while they were having a flashback.
108. Piloted an airplane.
109. Petted a stingray.
110. Broken someone's heart.
111. Helped an animal give birth.
112. Won money on a T.V. game show.
113. Broken a bone.
114. Gone on an African photo safari.
115. Had a body part of mine below the neck pierced.
116. Fired a rifle, shotgun or pistol.
117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild.
118. Ridden a horse.
119. Had major surgery.
120. Had a snake as a pet.
121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon.
122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours.
123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states.
124. Visited all 7 continents.
125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days.
126. Eaten kangaroo meat.
127. Eaten sushi.
128. Had my picture in the newspaper.
129. Changed someone's mind about something I care deeply about.
130. Gone back to school.
131. Parasailed.
132. Petted a cockroach.
133. Eaten fried green tomatoes.
134. Read The Iliad.
135. Selected one "important" author who I missed in school, and read.
136. Killed and prepared and animal for eating.
137. Skipped all my school reunions.
138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language.
139. Been elected to public office.
140. Written my own computer language.
141. Thought to myself that I'm living my dream.
142. Had to put someone I love into hospice care.
143. Built my own PC from parts. (ok, well sort of, in that the actual building was done by whatever man happened to be in my life at the time)
144. Sold my own artwork to someone who didn't know me.
145. Had a booth at a street fair.
146: Dyed my hair.
147: Been a DJ.
148: Shaved my head. (Not quite shaved, but as short as it could possibly be without shaving, since I was losing my hair)
149: Caused a car accident.
150: Saved someone's life.

Always after I'm gone

2008-03-07T23:04:00.003+02:00

Anyone who lives anywhere remotely close to Tennessee who doesn't attend Bonnaroo on June 14th just to hear Sigur Rós live doesn't know what they are missing. Why does everything good happen in a place after I leave?

Have a stamp?

2008-03-06T18:54:00.002+02:00

Barney's stories are frequently told on Pitcherlady's blog. His health is failing, but he always loves to get a postcard. Check the details, and make his day.

Morning coffee

2008-03-04T15:49:00.001+02:00

The view I enjoy with my morning coffee.

Dogs in the 'hood

2008-03-03T10:03:00.002+02:00

Villages in Greece tend to be either dog villages or cat villages. While that doesn’t mean that you won’t find a cat or two in a dog village (or vice versa), it does mean that one or the other is obviously the dominant animal of that particular hamlet.

When we lived on Kos, our little village of Pyli belonged to the felines. Cats were the queens of the tavernas, where they were always assured a few treats. Up here, dogs rule – and there are several different factions of doggy gangs constantly at war with one another. On our street there are four or five dogs that take up guard duties. The dogs around here are basically good dogs, they obey people, don’t get in too much trouble, and are very grateful for any scraps you can send their way. You get attached quite easily, and I’ve even named our neighborhood dogs: Jack, Joe, Fat Boy, Scruffy, and Barcley. Jack and Joe appear to be brothers - mostly black with some white patches, Labrador-esque dogs –and they are the rulers of the ‘hood, taking turns sitting at strategic points along the road watching out for their main rivals, the shepherd dogs.

Now I realize that the shepherd dogs are working stiffs, and messing with our dogs is probably the only fun they get to have, but these dogs are the biggest assholes. The herd is rather large, so there are a lot of dogs, maybe a dozen or so, and they come up here even when the flock is way down the road and start aggravating our gang. Thankfully it is usually just a barking match and almost never devolves into fisticuffs, but it seems to cause some major stress among the local boys, and the incessant noise irritates our cats to no end, causing them to turn to me with a look as if to say “are those Neanderthals ever going to shut up?” It usually doesn’t take too long before the shepherd dogs have to go back to work, but if those jerks ever injure one of our ‘hood dogs, I’ll have to have a few words with the shepherd.

Further down in the village there are a variety of Very Weird Dogs™. There is one who barks at headlights – he gets in front of cars and goes mad with rage at the devil rays, to the point that you have to turn your headlights off if you actually want to get anywhere without running over the freak. Then there are a couple of dogs who seem to think lying in the middle of the road is the best place to be, and stubbornly refuse to move even when a car is bearing down on them. I’ve seen people actually get out of their cars and physically pick up the dogs and move them out of the way, and the dogs don’t really seem to mind this, as long as they don’t have to move themselves. Of course, five seconds later they always decide they want to go somewhere else, but for those few moments it is dog’s will against man.

Despite the extreme distaste our cats have for dogs, I like living in a dog village. I’ve always wanted a dog but the responsibility seems too much, so having such friendly dogs around the house now and then is a pleasure. I can’t pet them or let them too close though, because if the cats were to smell dog on me I can’t imagine the consequences. But to say hello and get a happily wagging tail in response puts a smile on my face.

I do not like them, Sam-I-am

2008-02-27T19:13:00.001+02:00

Reality is just strange as fiction - even Dr. Seuss' fiction. Who knew there was some truth to the popular Green Eggs and Ham?

From Kathimerini:

A veterinarian in Trikala, central Greece, became the talk of the town yesterday when he put on display two green eggs laid by the hen of a friend. Animal doctor Nikos Pallas said that the eggs were probably green because of something that the hen ate.