Preparation for my emotional high

In about a weekend and a half - I will be living out a dream of mine.
I will be seeing Mumford & Sons live in Luxembourg (location doesn't actually matter in the case).

I generally do not gravitate towards seeing artists that I enjoy live because I often am scared it will ruin the mistique. I hate the whole celebrity worship thing, however to see my favourite band play my favourite music live, that's a whole other story.

I love live music.

I have waited years for this event to occur, never thinking the band would become as popular as they have. As someone who doesn't know how to contain her excitement I have already warned my friend coming to the concert with me that I will likely cry and have a breakdown. I will also throw up in the morning. No doubts about that.

One other odd thing that I am doing (why I admit these things on the internet is beyond me) - is saving a pair of underwear. I went shopping when I was at home over christmas for new underwear and there are still 3 that I haven't worn. Not that I am expecting that any person will see them (nor do I plan to show them off), but it is the greatest feeling to be able to prepare ones self in that you can do something special just for yourself.

The old lady who lives upstairs

I for some reason have some weird need that makes me want to help random strangers. More often than not this instinct really kicks in after a few beers. I am always looking out for others then. I often see older people in the city and want to help them out but I am scared that they will think that I am a creep and am going to mug them or something - which for the the record, I would never do.

The germans are generally private people and so I usually hold back this instinct of helpfulness.

A few weeks ago I finally had the chance though. I got into my building and I saw an older lady with a cane at the bottom of the stairwell with a bag of groceries. I asked if I could bring them upstairs and he was very thankful.

My question however is why does this old lady live at the very top floor of my building and how does she manage to get her groceries up the stairs normally. It would take her likely 20 minutes.

How I ruined my olympic skiing career

So I just got off talking to my father over Skype. I had to assure him I was ok after my ACL injury this weekend. He tells me - first off I ruin my soccer career, then my volleyball career...and now my skiing career. I will now share the story and situation of how this happened.

I decided with two friends that skiing would be a great idea. For those of you who don't know the manitoban landscape, downhill skiing occurs nearly exclusively in a dyke built around the city, unless you want to travel quite a distance. I had gone downhill skiing once, but this was about 13 years ago, when we were able to live into the new millennium. I was pretty good then and seemed to pick things up pretty quickly. I figure this experience would be fine as I endeavoured this again.

Now at the top of the mountain - I began to question what on earth I was thinking. I think something I had forgotten is that this isn't some crappy little hill. These were the freaking Alps!

Near the top of the "hill" - AMAZING VIEW!!!

I was so nervous at this point that I thought I was going to throw up. I first watched my one friend go down  on her snowboard and she was totally cool. Then working up some bravery I slowly decided to go. I figured I would try and snowplow the whole thing. Keep it nice and controlled. This worked for about 20 meters. I fell. That's fine. I figured that I would be falling quite a bit that day - that's part of learning.

So we continued on kind, and I seemed to be picking things up better and better. I was starting to be able to carve as I was going down the hill and do more than just a snow plow. I was so proud of myself. I was able to go long stretches without falling. For my the scariest part was when I started going to fast because I was worried I wouldn't be able to break and I would lose control and somehow destroy myself. At any rate the next time I go skiing I will wear a helmet. 

Looking like a Pro...

About two hours into my day after feeling pretty good about my skills I was carving and somehow misinterpreted the snow and I just really pushed hard to carve into the snow. So hard in fact that my ski remained where it was - but gravity in the moment became my enemy and pulled me further down the hill. It was a super crash. My friends came over right away and tried to help me. They were wondering if I could get my ski back on - but knowing that I have already had a knee injury I was like - no thanks, I am not risking this! I was so mad that I just started walking down the hill as my friend carried my skis. 

I was so not impressed. After about 10 minutes someone came and asked what was going on and I told her what happened. She asked if I wanted help. I said no thank - I'm gonna walk this one off. It's way to embarrassing to have to be rescued. I will get help at one of the lifts. I eventually made it to one of the lifts where she told me that they had already called someone. It was appreciated. Someone eventually came and I got to ride down in one of the stretchers behind him. I hated that I looked like I was completely inept, but it was super relaxing and I just basked in the warm Austrian son for a while. Quite a lovely experience. I then got sent down in the gondola where an ambulance was waiting for me. They had already asked me at the top what I wanted to do. I elected to go to a doctor.

Waiting for the doctor

After some questions they transported me to a doctor in the next village. X-rays were taken - no pants - it was a little cold but I made enough awkward jokes to make everyone feel better. Then the doctor came about 40 minutes later. Said - yup, no more ligament. Greeaatt. 

Needless to say I'm not super impressed but I can deal with it. The pain is relatively minimal. I am very 'fourtunate' to have already had this operation happen meaning that the ligament in there was already artificial and I didn't do damage to my actual body. It's mostly just annoying because it limits me from normal activities. I also don't want to have surgery again. I have to go to see a doctor tomorrow to figure out what the heck I am actually going to do. Perhaps have a second opinion as to whether or not this thing is actually torn.

Do I have a home?

This blog entry is dedicated to my father, as he told me that instead of complaining I should just right about it in my blog. To get back at him I will post a picture of the holstein I am currently drinking. I realized since opening it that I actually have not had breakfast yet - oh well - three beers is a meal *as they say

As to the topic of discussion between my father and myself - it pertained to the recent paint job that occurred in the room that I formerly occupied. I'd say my room - but it is no longer my room. How tragic. I know that I have my room and my apartment here in Germany - but I would not say that I really have a home. I feel like I don't have these feelings because I know that I'm not going to be staying here for a long time. At least not as long as I expect my parents to stay in that house - the same house I lived in since I was 6. Obviously I am going to have a place to stay when I go there but there is always a difference between staying in a room and staying in a room that is yours. Even here I wouldn't say that my room is how I would envision "my room" to be. By this I mean that there is relatively little decoration and furniture. Again I think this hesitation stems from my inability to want to root down and settle. The wanderlust factor is to high still. 

It was also interesting because during our talk we were discussing my upcoming day trip planned to Heidelberg and visit to the castle. My father who has also been there was discussing how it was sad that so much of the interior is not at all what the original would have been. I noted it was interesting that he was making mention of this after renovating my room. In 100 years when they want to turn our house into a museum people are going to be pissed. 

I also don't have that strong of a foot to stand on considering I told my parents about my extreme lack of desire to go to winnipeg. For me to even visit at the moment is not the most exciting thing. There are way more other places on my travel list that I need to see first. Although I do have about a week of holidays that are still unplanned - maybe a pop on over to see the family would be in order. At least there will be a couch to sleep on.

01-03

Today at work some unfortunate news was announced...seems that a paycut is in my future....at least as far as my holidays.

There has been some uncertainty within the company and there is of course always the concern that I could lose my job. After all - in my department I am easily the most junior person there. I was sort of day dreaming about what I would be doing if I wasn't working where I was.

The last thing that I want to do right now is move back to Canada. I love it way to much out here. It's so strange. Even the thought of eventually finding a new job is terrifying. I wouldn't say I LOVE my job, but I do like it. I am also in a place where I do not hate anybody I work with. There are a few people that I would be ok not seeing everyday - but I like them enough that I want all the best for them. But it's just a great work place where people aren't constantly talking crap about each other. I'd say other than Larters it's the least toxic work environment I've ever had.

I think it's because everyone is so open with each other. If we are frustrated we have no problem telling someone exactly how we feel. But it is not so bad that we will say horrible things to or about someone.

I am so thankful for these things and it is scary to ever think about leaving it.