10 Things I Learned in a German Hospital

These next few blog posts were actually thought of (during lucid moments) then written on paper (when I got a hold of E and his wallet and dragged him to the gift shop for supplies) while staying at the krakenhaus (hospital). They may, at times, seem to jump around datelessly or repeat one another at points. For that I ask the forgiveness of my loyal readers.

1. It’s possible to look so dreadful that you do not get to stop and collect $200 (or is that (or should that be €200?) – You go directly to a gurney and the paperwork will eventually catch up.
2. Some Schwesters are more like Nurse Ratchet. I have no idea who that is but she sounds like a mean person. While much to my delight it can be reported that most the schwesters were absolutely wonderful women, I encountered this one woman who was totally not. I mean…maybe it was cause she seemed to constantly scowl at me and quite roughly try to get my blood pressure. It was like she felt it took a lot of gall to show up in her ER and be sick.
3. I’m glad I wore brand new panties cause while I figured I’d be dropping trou, I had no idea they’d be prominently on display as it would seem my affliction would be abnormal enough to warrant the amount of people who were looking at me. I really dislike the vulnerability of being so on display – thank god for blankets!
4. German ingenuity has set it so pillows are collapsible for ease in transport and storage. Unfortunately it also means they collapse under the weight of your head, thus rendering them useless. Mattresses aren’t much better. I’ve started this blog post the old fashioned way – with pen to paper and from where I’m sitting, just looking at my bed makes my arse go numb! >.<’
5. Saying you have no pants on around these parts mean “you have no panties on”. To save on shock value and confusion, refer to them as trousers.
6. Thank goodness for understanding roomies. Mine, of course, is German however she speaks rather good English. This has been helpful when doing things such as ordering meals…I’m still wondering what ever happened to my chicken noodle soup since the stuff in my bowl was more like farina…or gruel. Ok, It wasn’t that bad…kinda homey, actually. Anyhow, she’s been a real dear. I was pretty much in and out of it my first day in and at one point I gave a chortle so loud (in my sleep) that it woke me up (obviously, since I mentioned sleep in the last set of parentheses) and I found her observing me with a grin. Hopefully I’m too sick to give my usual multi-o’s while sleeping cause I don’t think she’ll find that quite as funny.
7. If I ever need a CT Scan of my head…They’re gonna have to sedate me. Luckily this was just my leg but the closer I got to the circle, the more panicky I got.
8. That being said, when they say injecting the dye might bring on a weird feeling of pressure, wave of heat and sudden urge to pee, what they really mean is that it’s going to shock and surprise you so bad that you flail about on the able and by the time you want to question the weirdness of it all, it’s all over and you’re scooting back onto your bed.
9. You know the food is bad when you notice your growling stomach is dueling with the person’s who can actually eat and drink.
10. Your natural stealth rating goes down by -50 when you’re attached to an IV. It may have helped if the wheels of my trolley would roll. That seems to be an ongoing issue as it seems my bedside table won’t roll either.
11. Night schwesters like to wake you up by causing pain. Usually in fiddling with said IV – replacing saline, connecting to antibiotics…doing gods know what with my hand. I think that last schwester was about to get smacked since I woke up feeling with her messing with my hand and for a moment I forgot what was going on – luckily I lifted from my sleep fog.

Other small things of note:

• My condition is apparently so odd that three doctors come in for rounds.
  
• Elektroniks don’t like me – I don’t think anybody’s been able to get my bp and my pulse most certainly is NOT 485.
  
• On that note about bp – getting that done on the same arm as an iv hurts like a bitch!
  
• Injections to the thigh don’t’ hurt as much as I thought they would. To be honest the first one didn’t hurt at all but I was really out of it.
  
• The shower in my room is super claustrophobic. I was doing ok till I hit my IV line which not only hurt but made me freak out. There’s just nothing graceful about dripping all over the place trying to breathe and not pass out.

Schulanfang

For those of you who couldn't tell - Schulanfang (probably roughly) translates to "school" beginning".I just had to show off how stylin' my lil Diva was when she went off to her first day of school last week. You can't tell from the pic but that Tinkerbell backpack is not only spiffy sweet looking but it's glittery too! I'd totally go for one myself if it were like...a messenger bag and I was slightly less self conscious. After a summer filled with vaccination catch ups (did you know Hep A isn't a common vaccine in Germany) and spazzing out over lost birth certificates...oh and wondering if the school had forgotten our entering kindergartener the first day of school was upon us!

Even E got up early for the momentous walk to the bus stop so it was a full party. Ok, not a full party since that would be five members but come on, you guys know what I mean. It was a pretty jovial group - I guess older kids are still excited about school and then there was the lil cutie-pie who goes to the German Kindergarten (preschool) who's always happy and if I recall - even our other resident darling who's started the American preschool along with her still new smelling baby sister. Dear gods...did that last sentence even make sense? No? Oh well, figure it out for yourself - make it up as you go! (: Surprisingly, and I hate to admit it, I found myself choking up when the bus came. One of the hardest things to do was smile happily while taking an all too short hug from my baby before she gleefully hopped up on her bus to go to school. I've never left the Gang of Moms so fast - I didn't want them to see me cry. Thankfully, I didn't cry loudly - I'd never be able to show my face to the neighbourhood again.

Some of you guys may be wondering what happened in regards to my blog posts - or lack therein. I really have had things to say in the over a month time period that's gone by. I have pictures and tales to go with those pictures and in due time they'll come out.

As to what happened to me for the last part of this summer? I guess the big part is that my Vavô, my Grandfather passed away rather suddenly and it's something that's hit me rather hard. I remember how when I was a kid visiting family "up North", I'd get to spend the night and how in the quiet of early morning, he'd go off to work. There was something oddly peaceful about it... Some of my fondest memories come from summers there - of hanging out under an awning of grapevines in the back yard and having him tell me I'd get a tummy ache for eating too green grapes. I'm eternally grateful I at least got to see my family before I left for Germany. The last time I saw my Vavô, one of the last things he talked about was how I used to speak in Portuguese (hard to fathom considering how now I speak a lot of Spanish and my Portuguese is not only bad but with a Brazilian accent) and that he still had tapes of me talking about moving to Alabama, asking why I had to leave him and why couldn't he come with us. We're talking about tapes from back when I was bloody four years old...that makes for something really long kept. Sentimentality of it just breaks my heart. In less than a year I've lost both Vavô and one of my Vavó and didn't go to any funerals. I mean...I realize with the distance, I couldn't go but it doesn't stop me from feeling like a crappy person.

Bridge under the water, I guess...in the end I'm feeling more like posting so I will.

Guess Who Learned How to Fly

Hell yeah baby - you guys saw it first how on the 1st of this month I hit 60 and got my epic mount. Now behold--I'm on an epic flier! It happened on Sunday, July 27th sometime in the evening before dinner. I think... Anyhow, I was lucky enough to have some of my favourite people around - both E and Danasha were on hand to hear (or read) how close to 70 I was as we quested along before finally hitting it and immediately rushing off to learn how to fly and soon after that, even Urs made an appearance - sweet!

I'd like to thank Danasha for sharing the awesome pictures she took of the three of us flying over Wildhammer Stronghold (I think that's where we were) since I'd gotten an appropriately odd camera angle ready only to find my stupid machine didn't want to screenshot the occasion. She shows that she is a far more skilled flier than I am because there's no way I'd ever be able to position myself for this sort of shot - half the time I think my characters would be upside down, holding on for dear life if it were in the mechanics of the game. In fact, it would seem everybody took that into account and posed around me.

It was actually coincidence that E and I both went with green. As a hunter, the colour seems only natural for him and for me? I already have two in purple so green would be the next natural choice since I seem to have a purple and green theme going on. No, seriously, I do! Now, for those of you looking at this and wondering why Danasha has such a cool flier - that would be her wicked awesome netherdrake...I soooooooooooooooooooo want one!!! Check out that impressive wingspan! I'd never noticed how fabu it was!

Seriously - check out that wingspan she's got going on....le sigh....maybe I'll get one someday...

Is that the voice in my head…

That tells me to kill and kill again? Why yes! Yes it is! No, I’m not off to kill people…not yet at least…but yet once again, I’ve become compelled to try and kill out plant life and this time I’m starting at the root of it. Seeds, actually.

Truth be told, gardening is not my forte. I like to say that I’m allergic to life – grasses, pollens and trees make me sneeze and itch. Ragweed gets my eyes all red and icky. Mold gives me an awful headache. I hate being in dirt, having it get under my fingernails. I don’t know a weed from a flower and rather like thistles anyhow and don’t think they should be classified as something that needs to be shunned. Well, it shouldn’t be called a weed. If there’s a police that protected plants or a Plant Protective Services out there, they’d have a thick file on my transgressions against plant life. Let’s take a look at some of my case files.

Case File #004 – The Science Project
It was a simple enough task. Grow something out of a bean for science class, in science class. Seems like something you can’t really mess up while in the hands of a trained professional. Thirteen kids in my class grew cute vines to take home. I wound up with a cup of lifeless dirt. It was as if I stole whatever soul a fava bean possesses.

Case File #081 – The Carrot Top
I have no idea where I read this, but apparently you can grow shit off a carrot top. My sister and I proceed to eat all the carrots in the fridge, save for the carrot tops so we could grow them. Lil sis wound up with cute shoots of green that eventually died…cause you know I never figured out WHY you’d do this, but I guess you’re supposed to plant them in dirt…while I wound up with black chunks of…well…something.

Case File #152 – The Science Project Revisited
Ok, I must admit, this was a different project and an older and not much wiser fae. I attempted to grow three seeds from three different diets. Victim one received a normal diet of water and actually thrived till it grew enough to realize who I was before committing a quick suicide. Victim two was fed coke. Initially it grew well before turning into mush. I think it was poisoned. Victim three was fed pure vodka…or maybe it was whiskey. Regardless, it was cheap. Poor thing never had a chance.

Case File #409 – Romancing the Garden
I was actually about 18 when my parents moved into the house they currently live in and the gardens for it were beautiful. So beautiful that the former owners had a gardener or landscaping company that maintained it which is a good thing cause after having had to clean up the kitchen of what must have been several months worth of bitter divorce fighting, the garden would have been filled with spilt/splattered coffee and yanked hair. Since gardens are like…outside, I bet there would have been broken coffee cups too.

Anyhow, yours truly got sent out to take care of weeds and as you know, I’m kinda hazy on the subject. However it was a beautiful setting – beautiful gardens, nice neighbourhood and a gorgeous summer afternoon. Somehow I’d gotten into my head that pulling weeds was graceful, Victorian thing – romantic! So I decked out in a lovely summer dress and shimmering strand of pearls before heading out into front yard with a basket for my pullings. Man…was I ever in for a rude awakening.

After about…fifteen seconds…nature reiterated that NC does, indeed, have hot and humid summers and I HATE being hot and sweaty. I also came to the realization that dirt was doing nothing for my wicked cool French mani (light blue tips against a darker blue – I was soooooooooo before my time, bitches!) and I still didn’t have the whole weed vs. plant thing down so I was just randomly grabbing green anyhow and yanking. And that, my friends, brought me to the monkey that broke the straws back. I don’t know what the hell it was, but I found myself holding some sort of grassy clump with ants pouring out on my hands. Game over. Screw you guys, I’m going home. Screaming my head like a lil bitch while doing so.

Case File #1001 Set It and Forget It
My last attempt at growing something happened here in Germany. E’s boss’s wife gave me a plant to welcome me to hell. It was a very sweet gesture that I worried over because well…as you can see, I have a history about not getting along with plants. However, she assured me that all I needed to do was water it ever once and a while. Easy peasy, right? Heh…I wish! Poor thing sickened on the ledge of my dining room window and one day managed to find itself outside in a snowstorm.

So what’s the point of this rather lengthy post? My black thumbs have been itchy and I’ve decided to try, yet again, to bring forth life from dirt. I’ve been told this is simple enough and there’s nothing more fulfilling than growing your own herbs. I’ve started with two of my favourites, dill and chives and added on parsley cause I’ve heard it’s under-utilized. My seeds are mixed in Miracle Gro…or Grow…whatever it’s called. Cause let’s face it. I need one to get these babies going.

Who'za-What'za?!?

Have you ever had a post you wanted to make on your blog that, in your head, was so awesome, so filled with neat pictures that it would be epic in greatness? Have you ever sat down to do said post and found yourself up to your neck in trying to get those images to work right, your tounge to untwist and and utter inablity to put it together? And after making your epic greatness - the post of all posts, your magnum opus did you ever sit back and realize it was an epic fail? Yeah...me too.

It's occured to me that I could go on - post after post rambling on about the comings and goings of my life and I'd never get to this point. Which point is that? The point where my dear reader has no clue who the hell I'm talking about when I mention a name or show a face...though I don't know I plan on doing that. I've put this off for the longest time cause...well...I wanted to do it my way. This is, of course, done in a manner that is much harder than necessarily and perhaps a touch too much. All before being slopped on a plate and presented with a chirpy, "Hey! This is for you!" So, without any further adieu - I present to you the Cast and Crew that help make this blog the mess it is. (:

So me...let's see...I'm a stay at home mum living here in Germany. I think we've made it abundantly clear that I can't speak the language very well at all. I have a habit (good, bad, wierd - who knows) of mixing my languages up into one frightening sentance or paragraph or muttered obcentity. I've taken up blogging for a couple reasons - things like peer pressure, visions of gradure and a desire "feel better". Things I like include certain addictive online games, a pile of Adult Swim programmes, the colour black and the melty bits of ice cream in the bottom of a sundae dish. Some things I dislike include PeTA (Though I'm all for People for the Ethnical Tasting of Animals), shitty music and people in general. Oh, though I do love a good gathering. Did I happen to mention I'm also the singer in a Rockband? Hell yeah baby - good times had by all!

Being the epitome of laziness, I didn't even bother to fix this poor guy's name. This would be mein mann, der Erlkonig - or The Elf King...something like that. Much to his annoyance, I'm known to refering to him as E because der Erlkonig is too difficult to use in (my) everyday conversation. I like to think I inspired him to start his own blog which kicks serious ass - check it out!

As I mentioned above, I’m a mum here. I’ve got two girls – my growing to a gamer geek oldest daughter, the Elfling and my bouncy-bouncy Diva. Truth of the matter is, both these girls are high risk for the delightful affliction of Gamer-Geek. Moreso once we get down and dirty with playing Warhammer 40k. When I was in radio, both girls played strong parts during periods of my show where they really added a certain…je ne sais quoi (I’d tsk myself for using such a fancy term if I hadn’t needed to actually look up how to spell it) to my show. By usually having my listener’s rolling around on the ground laughing at our antics. The Elfling got her name, I like to think mostly, cause you can’t grow up always being known as “the Goblin Baby”. She has a pointy ear which kinda earned her an elfin nickname…that and it fits with well…us. The Diva’s nickname really fits her cause she’s all about the drama – flouncing about and just….oozing dramatics when it fits…or even when it doesn’t.

Gambit the cat. He often gives me the look you see in this picture and I’m quite certain he’s plotting my demise …or world domination. Likely both! Seriously, despite the pissed off teenager look he has going, he’s one of the most loving…or smothering cats I’ve ever had. Of course, we’ll see me try to say this as he trips me while I try to feed him.

Moptop and Danasha – more than just for breakfast! Ok…I wouldn’t know and really, really,really shouldn’t go there. These guys are two characters I play with on WoW (that’s World of Warcraft/Farming/Dailies for those of you who don’t know any better (Oh jesus Christ, yes, the it’s Warcraft – the other two are what I sometimes feel the name of the game is) and need a heads up) Together we raid, pvp (really, really, really badly in my case) and in general, help each other out. Oh another thing, these two darlings are actual real time friends. No, seriously, we sometimes gather round ye olde Xbox and jam out together.

Ded and Urs are friends of mine on another realm in WoW. Ursula (yes, yes…I’m switching things on your asses) is actually the short firecracker of a guild master…mistress? Anyhow, I was lucky enough to trip over...well, they ARE a gnome and dwarf…short lil fuckers… these two when I first came upon the realm of Trollbane and let me tell you – I’ve never met such a duo of warm, friendly cuddlebunniness. That being said, I should probably be shot for abandonment since I know I turn up these days with about as much frequency as a blue moon. I’m damn lucky to have such forgiving friends…though we’ll see how much that holds up when I post pics of them drunk and naked on their mounts.

Der Sam. Recently I was talking to this gent, of whom I’ve been friends with for a handful of years about how we met. It’s kind of funny to think that for quite a while I thought he was female. Not that he’s girlie, but because his character was and he really never made it clear otherwise. I was kind of looking forward to going on, and on about how he’s going to be a rising star in the field of sports journalism – after all, anybody who actually gets me interested in sports articles has got to be good. However, like many college students, he’s changed his major so I’ll someday get to go on about his many happy clients he has and oh my god that sounds so delightfully dirty he’s going to get me for typing this.

The Moms. No, I’m not the product of a lesbian relationship and likely both women would cause me serious pain for suggesting they’d lez out with someone so….you know, I’m going to stop digging myself deeper here. Anyhow – one mom’s by birth, the other by marriage. No evil mother in law’s here – that’s why she’s mom. How do you distinguish which one I’m talking about? Eh…we’ll figure it out as we go along.

The Demon…is yes, a washing machine. Mine, actually. He’s gotten the name because when I first got him, he had this awful habit of…well…moving around, especially during the spin cycle. I’m not talking about a ungentlemanly like rumble. We’re talking an Oh-my-FUCKING-god-why-are-there-bombs-going-off-in-the-basement sound that culminates with you going down there in a flak vest only to find it’s the Demon thrashing about the place like there’s a rave going on. He’s calmed down for the most part – sometimes he moves a lil bit but mostly he seems to have taken to playing with dice. Insert face-palm here…gamer family=dice in the laundry

That’s pretty much the bulk of things. I’m sure I’m missing out on people like Bella – whom you can read all about on her own killer blog and ummm…well, the rest of my family attached to The Mom’s but guess what, I can always add to this list.

Pic of the Week

Since I'm feeling all lazylike (despite the huge arsed post I have just begging to be posted...as soon as I finish it), I wanted to share what I think would be my picture of the week:

This Anasztazia, my (still) level 60 resto shammy. Let me assure you, it was hours of soulbreaking questing in Ashenvale that got me this kickin lil kitty. Anyhow - it's vacation week here and I'm off to the art museum!

Baby! It's hot in here!

And I swear to the Gods, it's leaving my brain freaking addled. I can't tell you guys how often I've sat before my next post and just...stared...kinda drooling even. Granted, there's some cute pics but Jesus snogging Saint Bart, I can't type for shit!

As I sit here typing this, we've got Germany vs. Turkey for EuroCup 2008 or some shit like that. Down here in the living room, I've luckily got a fan and tv drowning out the noise but omg, I went and put the girls to bed and nearly jumped out of my skin. I could hear this roar....and realized it was people - making some sort of noise...to be honest, it didn't sound like cheering but it also didn't sound like I'd be defending the homestead against a bunch of pissed off Germans wielding pitchforks either. Judging from what I've read on a website posting major happenings in the game, both sides scored one after the other....so who knows what all that singing was about but I'll leave you guys with this...

Go Turkey!!

Ninety Minutes?!?

So I was awfully quiet about Father’s Day, which was yesterday. I think a lot of people discount it as a holiday made up to counteract the glory of Mother’s Day by making sure all fathers regardless of race, creed, religion and miscellaneous ambiguity receive enough ties to choke Jabba the Hut…if we try really hard. With E working, we mostly celebrated on Friday, though I made a bangin’ brunch yesterday.

Truth be told, I didn’t blog about yesterday about Father Day cause I was busy actually talking to my own Daddy dearest. Just a note to everyone out there, I would NEVER actually refer to him as that cause now that I’ve gone off and typed that…it looks creepy as fuck. Calling home is something that does come very often from me, not so much because of the expense but because it’s so bloody hard to get a hold of someone. The production goes something like this: Call home….answering machine. Call mom mobile…voice mail. Call shop…ring-a-ling-a-ling. Call Laundry…well…you get the picture. There’s prolly a couple other numbers I could try – especially if could remember them but dear gods, I’d have better luck sacrificing a small animal in the name of my parents in hopes it summons their images into the ensuing pool of blood than I do calling them.

Surprisingly, my mom answered the phone when I called and for a good while I didn’t even realize my dad was home too. And then more than an hour into it, I discovered both my brother and sister were ALSO home…holy shit – it’s a clan meet going on and I’m not even there to join in! Talking to him – hell, talking to all of them just really reminds me how much I miss them all.

I hope all you dad’s out there had a great Father’s Day. Gotta get to my raid so I’m out of here!

A New Addition!

It's been a quiet few days here around Casa de la Fae but not to worry luvs, I've got my grubby lil mitts on a few things I'd like to share with youse alls as soon as I get my head out of my arse. In hopes of quelling the masses, I do introduce to you a NEW...NEW...NEW...feature here at Wo'D(S) <--Ha! I just came up with that on the fly! I present to you - a list of blogs to check out! I know, I know, it's titled people you should know and thus far, I only actually know two of the three people I've listed. This unknown third blogger? I seriously admire her food porn - check her out and be envious of her adventures - I dare you!

Won't You Take Me To....Funky Town?

And I ain't talkin' about a good sort of funky, either. It was rather bright and early Friday morning when the Diva and I took off to run some errands in town. Around these parts Friday means trash day and we have alternating green and black trash weeks. Unfortunately it was green trash day meaning the streets were lined with cans holding two weeks worth of...shall we say...composting stuff. Now while this lil fae's all about the composting happiness (if you're into it), she does NOT like to smell it downwind....especially if it smells like horse too.

First place we hit was the bank! Now, I'll have to admit, I prolly have more quirks than socially acceptable and one of them is that when nervous, I try to stick with the known which is why I went straight for the cashier I knew. Her look of surprise was most satisfying when I whipped out my (Well, E's) account card thing, saving time and thus getting me back out on the street!

I've been blessed with a child who has these moments where she'll want to try different fruits and veg and this week she selected an avocado to try. I don't know about you, but I can't do avocado straight up so our next venture in town was the local fruit and veg market. I've walked by this place a billion times but up until now, I've never actually gone in. It seems to be run by some lovely people, one who actually spoke English - which wound up confusing me as I went between bad French and even worse German before finding my tounge. Despite my own gooberishness, I walked away a happy woman and the Diva came home one apple richer.

So look - I included a picture! I went in look for lime for my avocado salad but just had to pick up some garlic too. It's sad when you can say getting a decent head of garlic is a treat - I usually have the worst luck at the commissary so this one was a real treat! The raspberries were just calling out to...well...both of us. Alas, in the end, I think I got two berries and a half eaten one from the bunch. *le sigh* As you can tell from above, this trip also included a stop at the bäckerei. I have absolutely no idea what the pastry or bread is called. I'd assume the pastry is a chocolate tipped almond horseshoe thingie - the teensy bite I had found it to be flaky with an übersweet inside. The bread might be something rye...or wheat....who knows? (:

Moving on to salad prep, I'll have to admit - I don't know what the hell actually goes into an avocado salad. Knowing my luck it involves pureeing the poor thing to death before adding it to jello, thus making it some sort of abomination that, when cut, slithers off the plate to devour the unsuspecting family. But as for me, after a brief game of "toss the avocado pit till it hits the kitchen window and freaks us all out" with the Diva, I hacked up the actual flesh before gleefully drowning it in the blood of one lime. I tossed in garlic that I hesitate to call minced....though I suppose you could say that's what I attempted and added a sprinkling of salt and deluge of pepper. Oh and i tossed with with just a touch of olive oil. And halved cherry tomatoes cause it seemed like the honourable thing to do.

The Diva gave it a noble try - I think she managed about 3 tiny bites before abandoning it to the corner of her plate. As for me...like the lil piggy I can be, I gobbled mine down for like the next five meals.
So that was last Friday, I hate to admit. I took my stupid lil pics and just couldn't bear to post without them. What does this Friday bring us? Black trashcan day and a less smelly neighbourhood. (:

Squared?!?

Yeah, yeah, I know you guys are all thinking wtf is up with that lil dangly contraption at the end of a perfectly nice blog name. (: I think anybody who's willingly come here knows who I am - for all of you who don't - I'm the darque faerie and my blog's squared because this would be the illustrious 2nd edition of Whisp. Brought to you via the un-air conditioned land of Germany where I thank the Gods and powers that be, that this joint recognizes (unlike fucking http://www.cartoonnetwork.com/) that despite my locale, I need my shit in English and gives me what I want...well...in regards to cruising their website on the world wide webberverse.

I've been inspired by one of the bestest friends a girl can have, Bella, who's also a blogger. Check out her lil space on the web and hope we don't see her next posting be a story about how a fine lil Canadian chick beat the shit out of a stark raving lunatic who claimed friendship. kek....anyhows...I figure I'll get more into what's on my mind another time cause I really should get my arse to gear.