A Clown In Berlin

Biking as transportation- who knew!

2013-09-20T10:04:00.000-07:00

I have been getting more confident on my small green bike lately. And I have given her a name. Deena. Deena and I have gotten tired of only riding around the bike training course in Görlitzer park. I have started taking her places! Today, I rode across the canal to the Turkischmarkt.

I wrote about the Turkischmarkt two years ago, when I was first discovering Berlin. I'll revisit that now.

White canopies dot the canal at Maybachufer. On a rainy day, there is space enough to move about, from seller to seller, but when the weather is nice the cobblestone pathway resembles the N-Judah at rush hour, people shouldering past each other, always with too much stuff, sometimes someone in a lost state of oblivion, weaving too and fro, indecisive, slow. You try not to get to irritated by this, because sometimes the person in the state of oblivion is you.
Today is rainy, but you would never know that business was slow from the call of the produce sellers, brown men who speak three languages and know how to be pushy in German. I stop at the cantaloupe and pineapple. "Zwei stuck, ein Euro! Zwei stuck Ananas! Zwei stuck Melon, ein Euro! Ein Euro! Hallo! Hallo!" The man bellows relentlessly, a clarion voice over the rest. I try to ignore him while choosing my fruit. When I hand him a Euro, the lyrics of his song momentarily change to , "Bitte schon! Bitte schon!" But the melody remains the same, seamlessly picking up it's original refrain.
Then there is the chicken man, whom I positively hate giving my business, but I do because he has a sweet deal on whole birds, 1 small bird for 2,50€ or 3 for 6,95€. He bags my purchase and takes my money, never making I contact with my. I hold out my hand to collect my change. He ignores my hand, instead putting my purchase and my change on the counter, still never looking at me. No eye contact through out the entire transaction.

I pack my backpack full of carrots, beetroot, apples, tomatoes and carry my cloth bag full of ripe figs back to my bike. Putting the bag on the back, I straddle the seat, putting one foot on the peddle and pushing off with the other. I bike all the way home. The center of balance seems different now that I am carrying things. I lose control of the steering a few times, but I regain it, mostly without stopping. On Sunday, Robert and I might go biking in Grunewald, something I have wanted to do for two years, if the weather is nice.

Fahrrad fahren (Bike riding)

2013-09-09T04:35:00.000-07:00

It has been many months since I posted here in this blog. The reasons for this are many. In March, shortly after I posted my disappointment about the 10 minute play festival, I had some major health problems. I went into the hospital for a hernia surgery and a two day stay only to find out that I had an advanced case of pelvic inflammatory disease (which they discovered when they started surgery and couldn't find a hernia) and was in the hospital for six days, then had to go back to the hospital two weeks later for a bigger surgery where they removed my fallopian tubes, which were filled with pus, and I had another six day hospital stay. There are several funny and horrible stories inside this experience, but I will not write them now. It was a long recovery and I have been restored to my full health and strength, minus my fallopian tubes. For me, the outcome of this is PERMANENT BIRTH CONTROL!!! I am extremely happy to not have to worry about my eggs anymore. The irony is that the whole problem was caused by my IUD, which I had so I would not get pregnant. Also, it really sucked that a month after I got married, my vagina fell off. But she's back now, and she is once again a happy and healthy girl.
Robert was incredibly supprtoive to me throughout this time. He made healing much easier. I am lucky to have him.

In July I was in Liz Erber's play, "Tip of the Iceberg," as part of English Theater Berlin's Lab series. We sold out and got a sparkling review on ZDF (which is like the German PBS) and are discussing doing the show again. I had an amazing time working with Liz Erber and Rob Rodgers, two incredibly talented artists.

I am hosting a monthly cabaret which is beginning this month! I think I am almost done booking it and then I have to try to get people to show up so I can pay the wonderful artists! If you are in Berlin and have an act, please contact me. I am especially looking for things that push up against the boundaries of gender, sexuality, race and class while having entertainment value!

Possibly the largest thing going on in my life right now is something that most other adults can do and take for granted. I am learning to ride a bicycle. I started this process four years ago in San Francisco, but never practiced much. It seemed too daunting and a bit pointless. Only the daring use their bikes in that city as a reliable mode of transportation. In Berlin, everyone rides a bike. The city is very bike friendly. It's flat, for the most part, and drivers are used to sharing the road with cyclists. Last week, Robert helped me choose a small, green women's cruiser and lowered the seat so that me feet could rest flat on the ground. My new apartment in Kreuzberg (a short walk to Robert's flat in Neukölln) is across the street from the bike learning area, a small little "traffic park" for children to go ride their bikes in. Well, children and me. It's free to use and the people there loan me a helmet. On Wednesday afternoon, there is a class for adult women who are learning to ride bikes. This class is geared toward the Turkish community, where the family structure is more patriarchal, but it is for me also. I am a grown woman who never learned to ride a bike. I am really looking forward to this class. I go everyday to practice on my small, green bicycle. It is frustrating, but I notice a slow progress. Stopping smoothly continues to be an issue, but I can now get started well, which I could not two days ago. Today it had rained, so I was alone there, which was nice. On Friday, a 9 year old boy wanted to help me and gave me all kinds of encouraging words until his mother (thankfully) asked him to leave me alone and go play. It's hard to practice when someone is trying to engage you in conversation. This kid had the right idea though. Let's ride bikes. Let's have fun. Who cares if you are good at it.
I will try to adopt this attitude.
I will also try to write in this blog once a week. Thanks for reading!

ETB's 10 minute play festival- Hugely disappointed

2013-03-10T05:33:00.001-07:00

I was very excited to have my play selected as part of the 10 minute play festival at English Theater Berlin. And I was excited to have the folks from Shakespeare im Park direct my edgy piece, as I knew they were diehard risk takers. Truly, I was looking forward to seeing what they would do with "Fluffers," a play for two women. I wrote the piece for two actresses with my mind on the fact that there are just not that many good roles for women in the theater. I wanted to create a play about a serious and under-represented topic (sex work) in which the characters were not represented as victims and also were the actresses playing the roles got to have fun!
On March 8th, I put on my striped tights, black dress, and favorite hat to attend the premiere of my 10-minute play at English Theater Berlin. I was excited to see my work produced!
I become a little concerned for my play when I looked at the program and realized that there where no women in the cast . The set up of the space was interesting, a hanging vacuum cleaner, currywurst being boiled or fried in the bathroom, huge buckets of ketchup and mayo, peanut shells covering some of the risers, I video projection of a repetitive image on one wall, and the directors, dressed as three choir boys, sitting above it all. "Ok," I thought. "Keep an open mind."
And then it started. The actors, three skilled physical performers dressed in latex Mexican wrestler costumes ate currywurst, lots of it, while the text of the winning plays was projected onto a screen and read by one of three choir boys in either a monotone or very quickly with no inflection or emotion. Also, the use of a vocal distorter made it difficult to understand the language in the text. At the end of every play, a vacuum cleaner hanging from the ceiling switched itself on and off. Then the next piece would start. From an audience perspective, all five pieces looked exactly the same. Though the directors assured me that the choreography for each piece was different, and that they did in fact, pay attention to individual story and try to synthesize the five pieces, it seems that the synthesis was so over-conceptualized that it erased the uniqueness of the individual pieces, and in fact, completely ignored the underlying themes of the 5 individual plays.
I appreciate experimentation and risk-taking, but I wrote a story, then asked my friends and colleagues to take the time to give me their feedback. Then I rewrote it and asked them again. I chose my words carefully, polished them, made sure I said what I wanted to say. I put a lot of work into writing my platy! Then I submitted it to a writing competition, for which the prize was getting to see my work produced onstage. This was an opportunity to see if this play could actually stand on it's feet. AND it was an opportunity for two female actors to have fun with some roles where the characters' identities did not revolve around their relationships with men.
Unfortunately, even though I was one of the skilled playwrights to win the competition, I still have no idea how my play looks onstage or how the dialogue actually reads. And nobody else does either. Winning this contest will not offer me a leg up as an artist. It will not offer any stepping stones in my career because no one will see my work. And what is possibly the most painful part is, now that my work has one a 10-minute play competition and been "produced," there are not many other 10-minute play competitions I can submit "Fluffers" to, as the majority of these competitions only accept new, previously unproduced work.
I feel a little sad and a little screwed. I feel like there is not even one part of my artistic vision or what I had to say politically that was heard or paid attention to by the directors. Honestly, I'd like a do over, but I don't think I'm going to get one.

The Dark Piles of Berlin

2013-03-06T06:17:00.000-08:00

Spring!

Spring is here! The sun, which so many of us thought would never return, has come back! It is still cold enough to have to wear long underwear under your jeans, yes, but it is not so cold that every little part of your skin that is exposed to the open air automatically starts to hurt! Going outside no longer makes me want come back inside and sleep! My body is again gaining vitamin D! The sun is back!

Last year, winter in Berlin was difficult for me, but I had the fire of new found love for a man and a new city to discover. This kept me going. Now, it's been awhile. Though I'm still relatively new to Berlin, I've lived here for over a year. A lot of the initial glitz and glamor has worn off. To some extent, this happens with relationships, too. None of this is bad. I'm just saying that there was no cushion this winter. And while the Berliners all said that last year's winter was mild, they said this year's winter was long. I thought it was going to kill me. I'm a California girl. I've never really experienced seasons. Yes, San Francisco was gray, especially in the Outer Sunset. And the beach was windy and cold. But the gray and the weather there, it never made me need to sleep all day. It never made me physically ill! Sure, I used to compare the gray sky of winter to a smoker's lung, but this Berlin gray? It's like nothingness! If Crayola made a crayon this color, it would be called Depression. Seriously, this Berlin Gray could suck the joy out of a club kid on 5 hits of Ecstasy. It was a hard, hard winter. I don't think I saw the sun one time from December 23rd to February 28th. No kidding. No sun at all, just a big, gray sheet of sky and cold, cold, cold. I was sick a lot. And even when I wasn't sick, I still just wanted to sleep.
But now there is sun! And with it, people's attitudes are nicer. Three days ago, I was running for the bus, which I was sure would pull away from the stop without me. An African man much closer to the bus than myself ran to it, grabbed the door, said something to the bus driver and pointed at me. This man asked the bus driver to hold the bus! For me! A total stranger! When I finally reached the door, he smiled and walked away. Berlin, what's up? That's just so unlike you. I mean, it's just so friendly! Everyone smiles! I speak more German and folks are more forgiving of my bad grammar. Things don't seem as dark and desperate as they once did. There is sun. There is hope. But there is also another thing. The dark piles.

A dark pile. Notice how part of it has been stepped on. It was probably hidden under a layer of snow for WEEKS!

See, in Berlin, people have dogs. And they love their dogs. And since it is a large city, many people live in small apartments. With there dogs. And they walk their dogs on the street so their dogs can do their business. And then they don't pick up their dog's shit! Seriously! Can you imagine leaving the house to walk your dog without even one plastic bag? You can't? Well then, you must not live in Berlin! So, though Berlin is a beautiful city, it is a beautiful city covered in dog shit!
In the winter, it snows. And people walk their dogs. The dogs shit in the snow, and then the dog shit freezes. And gets covered by more snow. This cycle lasts all winter: Dog shits, shit freezes, snow covers frozen shit, and on and on. Until Spring comes. Then all the snow melts and what is left? A bunch of thawing dogshit. Dark piles. Dark, smelly piles of Berlin.
If you live in Berlin and have a dog, please, pick up it's shit. Help stop this awful epidemic. Please, I, my nose and my shoes beg you. Put a dent in dark piles of Berlin.

This dog poop is special! Obviously, the dog took a shit when the snow was deep enough to make the bottom of the fence level with where the poop fell. Then, more snow, so the dog turd became invisible. Now, thawed out dog turd on a fence. Thank you to the person too lazy to pick up your dogs crap!

Hochzeit! (Wedding!)

2013-03-03T08:35:00.000-08:00

I know that I have neglected this blog. It has been over a month since I posted here. I am going to try to get in the habit of posting weekly, I'll start with some big news.


Standesamt Neukölln

Robert and I got married on the 26th of February, 2013. This is the first opportunity I have had to sit down and write about it. The whole event, from all the paperwork and bureaucracy leading up to the marriage to just getting ready for the wedding that morning, made me think a lot.

Let's start with the immediate.

Waking up in Neukölln, I hurriedly to my "abdominal workout to fight depression," shower, and do my hair. At this point, Robert is already dressed in his pants, shirt and vest and has made us coffee. Thanks, Robert! I still have to fold myself into my fishnets, put my dress on and do make up. I don't usually wear makeup, so of course I fuck up my eyes a few times, which makes us in even more of a rush than before. We can't be late, either, because the Standesamt will cancle and make us reschedule our wedding. Ack! Being a girlie-girl is time-intensive!
We practically run from U-Blaschkoallee to the Standesamt, about 200 meters away. We get to the second floor and everyone, including Sabine, my interpreter, is already there. But the officials haven't called Robert and I yet, so we can relax.

In the waiting room. Is Robert playing golf?

The waiting area is all teal carpet and fake beechwood. I sit on the floor and remove the jeans and wool tights I'm wearing under my dress to combat the cold. I'm nervous. I feel like everyone is watching me, waiting for me to do something. I don't really know what to do. I sort of want to be alone. Instead, I get sort of funny, commenting on stupid things, telling jokes, and feel grateful when Robert, Sabine and I get called to a small ante-room to show our passports, sign some papers and have the papers that the Standesamt (my birth certificate, etc.) returned. We also selected our music from the selection they had available. We choose "White Wedding" by Billy Idol as our entrance music and "Highway to Hell" by AC/DC as our exit. And then we go back to the waiting room again.

I feel so weird standing here. And yet I won't just sit down.

The wedding ceremony was scheduled for 10:40, but it's 10:42, and we are still all in the waiting room. What was that about the German bureaucracy always being on time? Finally, at 10:44, the doors to the ante room open and many people who look like pork come out. They're all very pink and dressed in tuxedos and fancy dresses. The bride is the brightest, in a satin fuschia gown that makes her look like an orchid. And then we go in. Robert and I sit next to each other and the interpreter sits next to me right ear. The Standesbeamtin (person performing the ceremony) didn't know us at all. We never met her before. We didn't have any vows. It was a civil ceremony. Different than any wedding I've ever been to. The interpreter translated in my ear. The Standesbeamtin talked about love and relationship and commitment. I guess I got the watered-down, not horribly romanticized version of what she said. Stuff about how it's important to be an individual and travel at your own pace, but make sure your partner isn't being left in the dust. Then we were asked if we were marrying of our own free will. We both said "Ja," and exchanged the ,20€ rings I got out of a vending machine in Kreuzberg. The Standesbeamtin told us we were then married and we high fived and kissed!

The ceremony

Roberts signs

I sign with the interpreter and AC/DC starts blaring!

After, Robert and I both had to go sign our Wedding certificate. He signs first, I sign second. As I sign this legal document, AC/DC's "Highway to Hell" begins to play. I am handed the marriage certificate and we all exit. There is a large party of Turkish people in formal wear waiting to enter the room. And so the marriage train continues...

I have the marriage certificate in my hand


After the Ceremony, outside the Standesamt

We all get on the U7 the Rauthaus Neukölln to go to the apartment and have a party. And of course cut the cake that our friend Olaf got us!


Thanks for the cake, Olaf!

I am here in Germany for the long haul, like it or not! So I better like it!

The sun came out on Thursday, and it's still shining!

English Theater Berlin, Teaching English, Winter

2013-01-18T03:32:00.001-08:00

This blog has become less than regular, partially because I'm very busy and partially because my life is just a bit overwhelming to me right now, but some exciting events have happened and I just have to tell you all about them. I'll save them for the end, so you'll read the whole thing.

It's January in Berlin and snow sometimes falls in fat flakes, sticking in my eyelashes so I have to blink them away. At 4 o' clock, the sun begins to descend and the world turns a beautiful and cool shade of blue, earth and sky a mirror of periwinkle and still. It is a time of Hot Chocolate with rum, inside time, quiet introspection.

After several years, I have begun my meditation practice again. It's short, usually only 5 or 10 minutes of sitting and breathing, clearing the mind. Hopefully it will help me make wise decisions, be more patient with myself and others, and remember that I can be self-reliant.

Another thing that continually teaches me patience is teaching English. I have 3 or 4 regular clients. I either go to their homes or they come here. Teaching adults is great fun. Who knew? They are motivated, want to learn! One of my clients is a pharmacist, so we talk about medicine and illness. I get to plumb the depths of my mind for information I used to know when I worked at veterinary hospitals. This client also has a huge framed print of Laurel and Hardy hanging over the sofa in her living room. We are definitely a good match. Then there are the two women who come to my kitchen on Thursday evenings. They both work with physically disabled adults. They are very in touch with their creative minds. We analyze poetry and read feminist biographies, exploring vocabulary and cultural idioms. I usually have these clients on the same day, the pharmacist in the morning and the two women in the evening. I love these days. I get to flex my science brain, my teacher brain, and my creative mind all at once! Love it!

My other regular client is a 13 year old boy who's father doesn't speak any English but wants his son to speak English. The kid is 13. Do you think he wants to have more learning time after school, or do you think he wants to play Minecraft?
I even tried to talk to him about his videogames, but this kid does not give a fuck. But it's a job. It can't all be wonderful, right.
I have also been contracted to begin teaching English in Kitas, schools, and private homes, so that is very exciting.
Also, possibly the BEST news is that not only a I performing my 8-minute solo clown piece "ShameNoShame!" at English Theater Berlin's Expat Expo on February 28th, but my 10-minute play "Fluffers" has been selected as one of 5 plays to be produced in the 10-minute play festival at English Theater Berlin in March. The premiere is March 8th, and I will be there!

2013-01-03T05:02:00.002-08:00

My new project seems to be stop-motion videos. These are pretty rough. I'm totally a beginner, but at the rate I'm going, I'll be at an intermediate level by spring.

Photos

2012-12-27T03:29:00.001-08:00

It's been a long, long time since I posted. Almost a month! I'm still alive and kicking here in Berlin. I had a birthday in Amsterdam. I'm in German A2 and I have a few private clients I'm tutoring in English. That's the short of it and now, here are some photos!

Welcome to Amsterdam. Come on in to the Coffeeshop as long as you are over 18

Amsterdam

Amsterdam after the rain

Vondelpark, Amsterdam

Buskers in Vondelpark, Amsterdam

Somebody's bad luck, Amsterdam

Amsterdam

Spice shop, Amsterdam

Palace, Amsterdam

Amsterdam

Bikes, Amsterdan

Amsterdam

Mel's place, Amsterdam

Amsterdam

Mel!, Amsterdam

Amsterdam

Etsy store and English Lessons

2012-12-09T07:10:00.001-08:00

Just wanted everyone to know that I have a new item up in my Etsy store and I also created this page on Word Press. If you know anyone who is trying to improve their English, please direct them this way. I give lessons in Berlin and also via Skype.

Hoping to make things look up soon...

December

2012-12-07T01:31:00.001-08:00

Disclaimer: This is a mega-downer post. It is such a downer post I probably shouldn't even post it. But I am. If you want to see a "Woo! Berlin!" post, try sometime last year.
Okay, you've been warned.

It's December 7th, 2012. Supposedly the world will come to an end in 14 days. Right now, life is happening, and I keep falling apart. Every year, no matter where I am, what continent I happen to be on, it's like this. November is a painful, treacherous backslide where I try to dig my heels in, keep my chin up, because I know it's coming: the blackness, the weakening of the soul, the time of year where I become a ball of need, a walking dead. But no matter how hard I try in cold, gray November, no matter how hard I struggle and fight, December comes. I am out of money, still with no job, no work permit, no creative partner, no glimpse of a steady future. Don't get me wrong. I'm thankful for what I have. A wonderful mom, a medium-sized room in a flat in Berlin, caring flatmates, Robert, food to eat, my first sale in my Etsy store. I have a lot more than a lot of people, and I am grateful.
But every year, this is the hard part. My money from the summer has run out and I need to renew my domain or my website will go black, there's always a gig or a project that I was working on with someone and then that someone drops out, or never shows up, and then there's the music. In Berlin, like in San Francisco, Christmas is everywhere. I cannot escape it. It makes me miss my dad. I get sent back to the nightmare that for some reason I can't write about. Oh December, you make me tiny and weak. You make me want to give up, throw in the towel, hibernate, or just stop all together. Your snow is beautiful but unfeeling. Will the world really end, me still broke and unwed? Will I actually get my act together to create something for my gig on the 21st, or will I just curl up behind my sewing machine and make things out of stockpiled fabric, pretending I don't exist until Spring?

First Flame

2012-12-01T03:47:00.002-08:00

As those of you who are familiar with my blog know, I have had a campaign on Startnext for my PJ's Pussies exhibition for the past 30-something days. In order to launch my campaign, I had to record a video of myself explaining my project and asking for money. I used the resources I had available, a tripod, camera and Final Cut. Robert helped me subtitle it. The video is below, and it is HORRIBLE! (If the youtube video doesn't play here and you want to watch it, follow this link)

I know it's bad, okay? I'm aware that all of the vivaciousness that I have as a performing just does not come through. My speech is halting and awkward, my movements mechanical. I'm like some horrific broken robot. The outfit? I guess on the day I dressed that way, I thought it was cute, but I admit, I do look a little like a member of the airline stewardess rejects club. The composition of the video is ok, I like the way the cats are arranged, but if one is just stumbling around youtube watching random things and sees this video out of context, I can see how it would seem extremely strange.

Evidently, my work IS strange, strange enough to get featured on Regretsy. Regretsy is a flame site that features weird and somewhat regretable arts and crafts for sale on the interwebs. They are, of course, based in America. Even though Regretsy is a flame site, I welcome publicity and internet presence of my work.
Since getting listed on Regretsy a few days ago, the video posted above has gotten almost 6,000 hits. This is good, right? Well, maybe not. The first string of comments on Regretsy is about the scar on my face. Maybe I don't want those 6,000 hits after all.
It's a cheapshot, picking on someone's physical appearance, but the internet (and the world) is full of people who do just that. This comment about my appearance hurt me so much that I removed the video from my youtube channel for a few days. Unfortunately, I could not remove it from the Regretsy site. As of today, I have made the video public again.

I've been dealing with people's rude behavior about my scar my whole life. First I thought that the rude behavior and ridicule would end when I left high school. Then I thought that maybe after college, folks would have something more important to focus on. Eventually, when I left the US, I imagined that there might be more interesting questions to ask me, more immediate qualities to judge my character by, than the scar on my forehead. Boy, was I wrong!
People have flat out told my that they could not cast "my scar." I have had directors and performance coaches tell me I should cover my scar or somehow obscure it because it is distracting, that it detracted from other parts of my clown or another character that I was playing. This was largely in my own work that I was devising! Excuse me, but if I can't perform past my scar, I should really find a new career. Audience members have said a lot of things to me over the years when I've walked off the stage, but not once has someone dared to rudely ask, "What happened to your face?" Evidently, the otherwise qualified directors and coaches I've worked with don't have the same poise.
In October, I flew from Berlin to Amsterdam to work with a modelling agency. I was surprised when they booked me. Though I'm active in front of a camera and quite photogenic, a lot of photographers won't work with me because of my scar. And that's fine. Modelling is a shallow business, based only on visual imagery. Most people who like to shoot pretty girls are looking for plastic conformity of some nature. If someone doesn't like the way I look, they don't book me. It's as simple as that. But this agency did book me, and I thought, "Alright! A modeling agency that thinks outside the box!"
When I got to their office in Amsterdam, their modeling coordinator took one look at me and told me, "Sorry, but the photos you sent us looked much different. We can't shoot your scar." And this after I had traveled to another country to work with them.
It was a financial (as well as an emotional) knife in the gut. But you know, I should be used to it. I've had doctors latch onto questions and assumptions about my scars and how I might feel about them when I've gone to get a PAP smear, employers constantly "admiring" my ability to "work past my appearance," (talk about insulting!) and strangers on the S-Bahn come right out and ask me, "What's wrong with your forehead?" They usually ask in German, so I pretend I don't understand. I'm thinking that my new response might be to punch them in the forehead and say, "Nothing. What happened to yours?"
If you're reading this and you want to ask how I got it, don't. It's none of your business. I don't owe you any sort of medical validation. It's just there. Deal with it.

It is amazing how much we care about a uniformity of appearance, how if you don't have two legs or all of your fingers or have some visible scars, something is "wrong" with you. The slightest variation makes one an easy target, a subject of ridicule.
I'm trying to work hard, deal with my life, not hide. I'm trying to put myself out there, to open myself up to what might be small or large success. I am willing to fail, to fall down and get back up again. But what I am not willing to do is explain my appearance to people. And I'm not willing to keep taking shit for my appearance either. I've had 35 years of people judging me on my physical differences and I am sick of it. People need to learn to behave themselves. The next time someone over the age of 12 says something inappropriate to me, they better be appeared to deal with my wrath, which I'm capable of in English and German.

As far as this whole youtube thing goes, I'm upset that I've been putting actual quality videos online for quite a few years, but the only thing that seems to get hits and comments is my horrible crowdfunding video, and the focus it seems to draw is because of my scar. It is really disheartening. I lose faith in humanity jut a little bit more with every view that it receives. I'm tired of dealing with discrimination, but that doesn't mean it goes away.

If you are reading this, the next time you feel like asking someone about their physical difference, don't. Pick something else to focus on. Remember that even if someone looks different then you, it doesn't mean they are any less human. And it might save you from getting punched in the face.

Trash Deluxe: Gender as Performance

2012-11-18T03:57:00.001-08:00

What a drag!

I have been low lately. Really, really low. The days grow increasingly shorter and it is COLD in Berlin. Before last year, I had lived ever winter of my life in California. Last winter, I was floating on the wings of falling in love. This year I the encroaching winter and lack of sunlight has hit me like a brick in the face. I have started going to the Sonnenstudio when I can afford it, not because I want to get tan, but because I NEED LIGHT! Seasonal depression combined with stressful financial situations ( I need a job, badly) means I don't manage to go out a lot, but I am trying to change that.

On Friday night I went to a dance/music collaboration that made me roll my eyes a little bit. Their were two separate collaborations. The music was emo and than electonica, and in both cases the dancers where contemporary/improv. I tried really hard to be engaged with the performance, but I felt like I was back in graduate school, trying to come up with something positive to say about "art."
Let me be clear. It was not bad performance, I just didn't like it. It didn't relate to me at all, and I couldn't relate to it. Try as I might (for years now) I just do not like contemporary dance. Or at least, I haven't yet. But it felt good to get out and see something.

Last night I went to Trash Deluxe, a night of queer and drag performance at a venue called AHA in Schöneberg. I arrived about 10 minutes early and the place was packed! Usually when I enter a crowded venue, I get a little anxious. (Okay, lately I suffer from crushing social anxiety, but I'm trying to keep it light!) Here, even as I was squeezing past people, I knew I was home. Queers, trans folk, modern primitives, this was the throng of folks I was enveloped in. And I liked it. No one was going to treat me like a girl. No one was going to assume anything about me, judge me on my scars, my clothes, my body. I found myself in conversation with a pierced up, leather-fairy looking man (?) named Michael who was as sweet as pie. He told me about an event his ensemble "Lick Me Happy" is doing next Saturday, describing it as "Queer Monster Performance." All I can say is, I'm there!
The performances starting with a rather ritualistic drag act to "Carmina Burana" of all things. There were stilettos, neutral masks, and lots of glitter.
The performance was about 3 hours long, with a 20 minute break in the middle. Most of the acts were traditional drag, lip syncing with a focus on dance and gender illusion, although there were two poets, 2 singer/songwriters, and one vocalist who blew me away with his version of Bill Withers's "Grandma's Hands". (If you click the link, be warned that Bill Withers has some rather dated and hetero-normative sentiments about homosexuality which I don't support, but I don't find his banter intolerant.)
Some of the acts were skilled, some were well-rehearsed, some were rather thrown together, but all followed the same thru-line. Gender is nothing more than a performance. All gender is drag. It doesn't matter if you are a man acting how you think a man should act, a trans-woman doing male drag, what we think of as the traditional drag queen, or something totally ambiguous right in between. When you subscribe to gender behaviors, gender behaviors that traditionally go with your biological sex, gender behaviors that are believed to be opposite the parts in between your legs, whether these behaviors are small and subtle or overblown to the size of camp, what are you doing but performing conformance or non-conformance to another person's idea of what you should be?

One of the few English-language phrases uttered onstage last night (after a fabulous "belly dance") was "Fuck lookism." Lookism is not just about fat or thin, pretty or ugly. It is about viewing someone based on their appearance instead of what is inside of them.

My Startnext campaign is almost over!

2012-11-17T08:45:00.001-08:00

Hi everyone. As you all know, I have been running a crowdfunding campaign on the German website Startnext.de to help me cover the costs of my recent exhibition at Other Nature. I have 16 days left in my Startnext campaign and only 18€ left to raise. Please help if you can!
http://www.startnext.de/www-harveyrabbit-net

In other news, I am entering a 10-minute play competition and think I may have found an editor to work with for future writing projects. More on that later. Tonight I'm going out to see some radical queer performance in Berlin. I'll report back soon!

The Eisfabrik

2012-11-08T07:55:00.002-08:00

Just some photoes from an old squat in Mitte


Graffiti on Köpernickerstraße

Köpernickerstraße

Treasures from the Eisfabrik

Eisfabrik


Köpernickerstraße

Exhibition at Other Nature, .02 Nov .12

2012-11-05T02:58:00.005-08:00

Posted here are a fey photos from my PJ's Pussies exhibition at Other Nature! I have sold two pieces already, and on Saturday night I got inspired to start doing much larger work. Now to find space and funding...

The Last Cats

2012-10-29T11:41:00.000-07:00

These are the latest kitties! Please visit Other Nature and see my work, up until January 2nd. The Opening Party is this Friday. Go to my website for details!

Crowdfunding in Germany, not as easy as Kickstarter

2012-10-27T05:01:00.003-07:00

I have started a crowdfunding campaign on Startnext, the German Kickstarter, to help me with the costs for my PJ's Pussies exhibition at Other Nature (Mehringdamm 79 10965 Berlin) and I have finally reached the financing phase!
If you've used Kickstarter before, you know that the platform is relatively user-friendly and autonomous. You put everything up all at once, you link it to your Paypal account, they approve it, and you're good to go. Not so with the ever-bureaucratic German culture. I swear, this place is impossible! Here are the steps I had to go through to get this campaign up and running.

1) Put photos and English Language description of campaign online.
2) Get email encouraging German version. Robert translates everything.
3) Register with Fidorpay, the bank that is connected to Startnext.
5) Have technical difficulties with Fidorpay. Need to call and see what the problem is but have to wait until native German speaker is available during bank hours to make phone call.
6) Work out technical problems. Send in PostIdent (special form, requires me to go to post office with my passport and proof of address)
7) Find out something is wrong with my PostIdent, have to do annoying post office trip again.
8) Make HORRIBLE video where I ask people to donate to my campaign.
9) Wait several days for my Startnext campaign to be activated for finance phase. Accidentally send out email saying that folks can support my campaign early. Am embarrassed.
10) Email Startnext several times to try to get account activated. Wait.
11) Call Startnext. Luckily the person on the phone speaks English. She tells me I can add days to my account since I have not started the financing phase yet. I do. Then she starts the financing phase for me.

And after 2 days, I am more than halfway to my funding goal! Honestly, I am hoping to exceed my funding goal because I asked for the bare minimum and that was before I knew that I would have to provide refreshments at the exhibition and also get my sewing machine fixed. So, if you can, slip me a few Euros, will you? You'll be rewarded with lovely gifts and undying gratitude.
Also, if you can't support my project financially but would still like to let me know you care, you can become a fan of my project by registering with Startnext.de. Becoming a fan is free,and you can register with your facebook account!
If you live in or near Berlin, I'd love to see you at the opening. The official invitation for the opening is here.

Cats! Cats! Cats!

2012-10-10T00:35:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I had a photo shoot of my and my artwork, which I'll be exhibiting at Other Nature in Berlin from November 2nd to January 1st. Pieces will be 25€ or 40€ for a pair. This work very underpriced considering the amount of care, detail and time put into each figure, but I really would like it to sell. If you would like to own your own piece, contact me and I can make one especially for you.

I am looking into getting some postcards and stickers printed also and have applied for a very small grant to help me cover these costs. If you feel the urge to support the arts, and get a free postcard and some free stickers, please consider hitting the donate button on this page.

And now, photos!

Language Mistakes

2012-09-28T02:19:00.000-07:00

The every-growing family of cats!

I used to be such a regular blogger! But lately I've been so busy I can hardly chain a sentence together. Since I last wrote, I taught a six-hour clown intensive and had a small, non-speaking role in a film. It's nice to get paid! Other then that, it's been me, the sewing machine, and the hopes that my art will sell. In a few hours, I'll have a photo shoot of me and my work with Nathan Wright at Cozmic Photos. Nathan is a really nice and non-sleazy individual. If you're in Berlin and looking to get some high-quality photos taken, give Nathan a call. I suggest him!
I'll be sure to post the best pictures from today here on the blog.
It's come to my attention that I have not been writing at all! What a shame! It used to be something I was so good at. But now I don't find the time, dear audience, to share with you the incessant ticking of the white plastic clock in this German kitchen, or the children's temper tantrums that ricochet from the yard below up the walls to my 3rd story window.
But I'll share a brief story with you now. (Before you read this, you should know that in German, the vowel set "ei" is pronounced like the English "I," whereas "ie" is pronounce like the English "ee.")

A few days ago, while walking down Badstrasse in Wedding, I saw a sign at a produce stand: Feigen , 3 Stuck 1€. (Translation: 3 figs, 1€) Yummy! I held out a Euro and said to the produce man, "3 Fiegen, bitte!"
Robert mumbled "Feigen," under his breath.
"Oh!" I turned bright red, because what I had said sounded an awful lot like Ficken. (Look it up.) "Feigen! 3 Stuck Feigen, bitte." I could hardly look the young man in the face as he handed me my fruit, for with my mispronunciation, I had just requested this man to do an incredibly intimate thing to me. 3 times! For 1 euro! Oops.

Wedding

Chained to my sewing machine

2012-09-19T02:29:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't updated in awhile. It's not that I've forgotten about you all, or that I don't care. It's just that I have become a workaholic. There's the online TESOL course, that will certify me to teach English as a foriegn language anywhere in the world (including Berlin!) This course is kind of dull and time-consuming, but I believe it will pay off in the end. I've been at it for just a few days over a month and am almost half done.
And then there is the art. I have my first public exhibition on November 2nd! (Details at www.harveyrabbit.net) While the exhibition is still over a month away, I have a photo shoot with a professional photographer on September 25th, so I am trying to finish the majority of the work by then. I've been pretty much living behind my sewing machine. It makes me really grouchy at times, this pulling 10 and 12 hour days with the hope (but not the gaurantee) that my work will sell. But I also find great fulfillment in actually turning out a physical product.
Yesterday, I took a break in the afternoon to hang out with Robert. We on my bed talking. "Ich liebe dich," I said to him. (It means "I love you" in German.) He looked at me sweetly and then corrected my pronunciation.

Beautiful Prague and No More Trust In the System

2012-09-03T09:50:00.001-07:00

Welcome to Prague. This is what's in front of the National Museum.

This is the National Museum. It's a beautiful old building. It's closed until 2015 for renovations. Bummer.

Sporilov, a different Prague then you read about in the tourist books.

Robert and I went to Prague on Monday to meet my old friend Buffy, who was visiting a friend there for two days and had volunteered to haul my lime green hardshell suitcase across the Atlantic for me. We used airbnb.com to rent a beautiful studio in Zizkov for two nights and Robert bought our roundtrip tickets on Berlin Bus Linien. The bus ride there was quite nice. The bus had WiFi, comfortable seats and a toilet on board. The only stop before ours was Dresden, so the ride was a mere 4 and a half hours. At the bus station, I changed currency, Robert bought a toothbrush and we took a short bus ride to our apartment. Buffy, who has known me since I was 19, was there waiting for us and took us out to a delicious dinner of Budweiser (it is originally a Czech beer and it is QUITE light, bubbly and delicious) and Czech food. I had Knedlicky, a traditional Czech dumpling and a pile of various meats. Buffy ate something that looked like spring time and Robert ate two steaks. We three talked for a long time about, well, everything! It was really wonderful to connect with someone who has known me so long and to introduce her to my new life. Thanks for being you, Buffy.

The above video is this automatic toilet cleaner at a restaurant that Robert and I went to. If I hadn't already taken care of my business, this thing definitely would have scared the crap out of me.

The next day I contacted Pavla, who I became friends with when we worked in a collaborative team at Cesta as part of the 2007 Waste Festival. Pavla could not meet us until 5:30, so Robert and I had a day of wandering, beer drinking and eating and then met Pavla at a metro station. We took the tram out to Sporilov, which is on the outskirts of Prague and quite different from the urban landscape we had been swimming in for the past 24 hours. Pavla took Robert and I on a marvelous walk around Hamersky Lake with her dog Fruktas. We went to a really beautiful Biergarten and had delicious Czech beer (Robert had wine) and food. Mmm, knedlicky and pineapple chicken. We continued our walk at dusk, attempting to go to a wine cellar on the other side of the lake, but when we got there it was closed. So we kept walking. We came across these crazy murals that Pavla said were painted by high school students and had a quick photo session, then went to some pub that was right next to a playground. As an American, this type of thing always makes me go, "No way!" I mean, we have to put our booze in a plastic bag when we take it outside. And drinking on a playground? For shame! But it makes sense. Your kids want to play, you want to drink beer, and now you can spend quality time with your children while relaxing after work. Everyone gets what they want.

Pavla and Robert in Sporilov


Sporilov. If I where going to live in Prague, I wouldn't mind living here.

***I feel it is important to note that Czech beer has a low alcohol content, so you can drink a lot of it and still function reasonably well. It is also cheaper than sparkling water in some instances.

Thomas, Pavla's partner, came to meet us as the pub was closing their outside seating. We walked towards a restaurant that was next to our bus stop, where we sat and of course drank more delicious, sparkling Czech beer. (It really is the best.) After much talk we said goodbye and Pavla promised to come visit Berlin sometime soon. It is really cool to be closer to her. We have seen each other twice this year already!

Sporilov

Fruktas tries to see what the yellow letters say

Art from trash in Sporilov

Sunflowers in Sporilov

Hamersky Lake, Sporilov

The bus ride back to Zizkov was uneventful, but when we got off the bus we could not find our street. After asking several really nice people with varying English language skills for directions, we finally did arrive home safe and sound.
The following day we slept in, went out for a late breakfast of eggs, fried cheese and sausage with some vegetables thrown in for good measure, took a short walk and returned our guest apartment to it's original order. We got to the bus station at Florenc early, so decided to get some coffee at the only place around, McDonald's.

This pretty much sums up how I feel about McDonald's. Thanks, buttcrack man!

Here is where the story turns. Remember how early on in the story, I had said that Robert bought our round trip bus tickets online from Berlin Bus Linien? Well, he did, and we got to Prague just fine. For this journey outside of Germany, Berlin Bus Linien had partnered with Eurolines. So we go to the Eurolines Bus that will take us back to Germany, and the bus driver says, "Sorry, the bus is full. You're not on the list." I wave the tickets in his face. "You're not on the list. You have to take your complaint to the German bus company. You must buy new tickets."
"When does the next bus leave?"
"Tomorrow."
At this point, I admit I flipped out a little bit. A lot of little tiny annoying things have been going wrong for me. First, Air Berlin lost my luggage for 4 days. Then, my birth certificate that, all in all cost about $100 to get and send via USPS Express Mail, was lost. DHL, supposedly a very good delivery service, just straight up LOST my mail and USPS sent me a letter saying that they had no idea where it was, either. Isn't the reason that you pay the extra money to get a tracking number attached to your post so it doesn't get lost? And now, the bus tickets that Robert already paid for were no good! I was beginning to feel cursed. I tell you, I have positively no more trust in the system. And I'm not talking about the government. I'm talking about trusting someone who works for an airline, a postal service, a bus line, to do their job. No more trust.
Robert goes to the Eurolines counter to try to figure out what's happening. Evidently, no one gives a shit that we have tickets because we are "Not on the list." The bus pulls away and I let out an audible squeaking scream of frustration. I probably threw something, too. I don't remember so clearly. I was just livid. Robert decides he's going to handle it. (Have I mentioned I love Robert? He is often my hero.) That's when we meet Mandude. Mandude is some pretty, jockish-looking German dude of mixed ethnicity with dark skin. He doesn't speak a whole lot of English and refuses to talk slow enough for me to understand. If I had been by myself, it would have been a whole different story of him trying to "hey Baby" me with his macho-maleness. Robert, who wants to be friends with and help everyone (he reminds me of my father sometimes) suggests we go find some internet access somewhere and hunt for a rideshare, including Dudeman in our plan. We can't find anything. Also, there are no trains until the next day. I go to the bus station office and approach the Student Agency counter. "Do you have anything going to Berlin tonight?" I explain my story about how Eurolines has left us in the cold.
"There is one bus at 11:00 tonight," the blond 20-something man behind the ticket counter smiles. He is our beautiful angel savior.
"How many seats available?" I brace myself to hear 'only one.'
"33," says the angel.
"Moment." I gasp breathlessly, running back to the bus station cafe as if my toes are on fire.
Robert says yes. Dudeman follows my back to the ticket counter. I buy two tickets. Dudeman buys one.
We have five hours to wait and I have a big, green piece of rolling luggage, so we hang around the station. Unfortunately, Dudeman hangs out with us. He basically occupies my traveling companion the whole time. Talking in only really fast German about some music festival, not letting Robert get a word in edgewise, asking no questions, and completely ignoring me. Seriously, this guy was an ass. I tried to understand what he was saying for awhile before I just decided to read my book. For 5 hours. I go to the train station once to use the toilet and get Robert and I something to eat. I don't want to be rude and unfortunately this Dude man seems to be part of our group now, so I buy him a sandwich, too. They are only 45 crown, which is less than 2€. Sometimes I am too nice.
At 10:30 we go over to the platform and wait for our bus. Dudeman sees some chick he wants to talk up and quickly abandons us. Thank god.
10:55 and no bus is at the platform. I am wondering if a bus will show up at all, especially because it is still not there at 11:15. "No more trust." I mumble. "No more trust." For some reason, this cracks Robert up. I feel like Gene Wilder in the Producers when they find out that "Springtime for Hitler" is actually a hit and he's going through all the receipts of the money they owe the stock holders and just MOANING. I couldn't find a clip of that online, but you'll get the idea of his character from this one:

I construct a story about how no bus arrives, or when it does, they won't accept our tickets either and we will have to walk all the way back to Berlin. Robert laughs harder. I keep telling myself everything will be fine, but all I can see in my head is more disasters of annoyance and extreme inconvenience. Ugh.
At 11:35 the bus FINALLY shows up! We get on it and promptly fall asleepnot waking up until a woman comes by and says, "Berlin." It is 4:05 in the morning. We stumble sleepily off the big yellow bus and I notice Dudeman is chatting up the same girl from the platform earlier. Robert says that the guy has a girlfriend in Rostock that he's having a baby with. Real quality guy you are, Dudeman. Robert and I head to the S-Bahn. I come home with Robert and sleep for a very long time, so thankful to be back in Berlin.

Zizkov


Robert and the Trash. This man HATES to wear his shirt!

Fountain outside the National Museum. Your really not supposed to stand in it, but it was SO HOT!

All the old buildings in Prague are so gorgeuos. And then there's the new ones...

In German they are called Feuerkäfer, in Czech, I don't remember, but aren't these bugs cool?

Laundry through leaves, Prague

The art of everyday objects. Park Bench, Prague.

New Sewing Machine, Beautiful Wedding, Wasteland Twinning, Queer Beach

2012-08-26T10:33:00.001-07:00

My new sewing machine!

So much to report! Firstly, I have purcahsed a new sewing machine. Thank you to my generous donors for making this possible. It is not as fancy as my trusty old Bernina, but it is also not as heavy and it will do the jobs I need it to do. I am very happy about this purchase, and though I have not had time yet to give it more than a short test run, I look forward to starting production very, very soon!

On Thursday Robert was acting weird, insisting that I come over to his house in the evening evening though I had slept there the night before. "Okay, okay!" I was annoyed, but it seemed so important to him. I arrived around 9:30 and a ton of my friends were there! He threw me a surprise party! Unbelievable! I've always hoped someone would do that for me. No one ever had, until now. It was a great night of conversation and music. I was reminded yet again that I am most definitely in the right place in the world.

I have been walking through my neighborhood lately, and though much of Wedding is highly urbanized, I have to say this place is GORGEOUS! Right around the corner is a river and verdant greenery, birds and squirrels. As soon as all the construction on the building is done, I think this will be a positively wonderful place to live. Though I have liked a few of the places I have lived in Berlin, Soldinerstrasse is my favorite so far.

All this is around the corner form my flat.
Gorgeous!

I auditioned for a part with Wasteland Twinning yesterday and got the role. Sometime next weekend I will be giving an improvised, interactive endurance performance, playing a character in an urban wasteland on the space behind Köpenicker Straße studios next to Kopi squat, opposite Radialsystem V next to the Spree river. At the exact same time someone will be giving a performance using the same character sketch in Amsterdam, Holland. The event will last about 5 hours. It will be difficult but worthwhile. At the end of it all, I will sleep for a very long time. I am VERY excited about this bizarre and unique opportunity.

And lastly, it has been HOT in Berlin! Really hot! I have been wanting to go swimming in one of the many lakes here in Berlin since I landed, and have not been able to find the time. Yesterday there was a small party called "Queer Beach" at Müggelsee. Robert and his friend Tobi and I went in the evening, around 8. I had only been there about 5 minutes when I decided it was time for a swim. Though the twilight air was beginning to cool, the water was quite warm. I tore off all of my clothes and ran in. How marvelous, to swim naked in a lake while the moon is rising and the sun sets. Robert joined me and after cavorting in the lake for a bit, we dried ourselves off, joined Tobi on the blanket and ate sausages.
An excellent evening.

I'm sorry to say I forgot my camera for both my surprise party (but how was I supposed to know?) and Queer Beach, still, I hope you enjoy the few photos I have included in this blog.

These two photos are total non-sequitors, but I didn't have anywhere else to put them. Firstly, there is a Yoga room at SFO International? Oh, San Francisco, would you like soymilk with that? Also, when you only have 3,30€ in your pocket and are hungry, breakfast at Sharky's Cafe on the corner of Osloerstrasse and Koloniestrasse can't be beat!

Mein Nähemaschine ist kaput

2012-08-23T08:49:00.000-07:00


My sewing machine busted, and I have to make 30 more of these guys. Help!

I lugged my Bernina sewing machinefrom the US all the way to Germany. Today I bought a converter plug for it, came home and set it up. I threaded the machine, put in the bobbin and got ready! Sewing in my own room! The feeling of home! I. Was Excited.
I placed the fabric under the needle and turned on the machine. I depressed the pedal and began sewing. But something was wrong. Tension problems. Okay, I began futzing with the tension knob. Tried again. Nothing. I few more tries. Still nothing. Not better. Not worse. Nothing. Then I smell burning. Then a loud popping sound and smoke.
Robert called around for me a little bit. No one will repair it because it is too old. If I kept searching, I could probably find someone, but the repair would be astronomically expensive. I have a deadline coming up and tons of sewing to do. I had just finished setting up a corner of my room like a studio so I could be very productive, unrushed, pay a lot of attention to detail and make good art. And now I have to buy a new sewing machine. I didn't really budget for this, but I don't really see any other way that won't drive me insane. I have an exhibition of my soft sculptures that opens on November 2nd, but need to finish the majority of my work by the last week of September for a publicity photo shoot.

So here is my shameless plea, again, for you to fund my really amazing art. There is a "Donate" button on this blog connected to my Paypal account. If you are looking to fund a project in a very concrete way, where you donate the money and it goes DIRECTLY to helping the art get made, look no further. I don't need that much, as far as art funding goes. $350 to $400 USD will buy me what I need to crank these sculptures out. Of course, it takes a village. I don't expect one person to just shell out the whole thing. So here's the deal: You donate more than $50 and I send you a soft sculpture. You donate more that $100 and you get a soft sculpture and some kind of original, functional fabric item as well. So, how about it.

Mein Gepäck wurde gefunden!

2012-08-18T23:55:00.002-07:00

That's right! I am waiting for it to be delivered right now! Truly, I am relieved.
Geez, it only took 5 days, but now I will be reunited with my Lacie backup drive, my underwear, the majority of my clothing, the rest of my artwork and my camera battery charger! (I can start taking photos again! Oh happy day!)

Yesterday I went to Shakespeare im Park, a free performance in Görlitzer Park to see an INCREDIBLY strange production of Utopia by Thomas Moore. I can only imagine that this is what the Open Theater must have been like. The production moved throughout the park, pushed gender roles and sexuality to what might be a limit for free, open air theater, and was also, at times, hilarious. Sorry, I will not write I lengthy review because the buzzer just rang which means MY BAG HAS ARRIVED!
I now have almost all of my things in one place!
What's left I will pick up in Prague on August 27th! Wow, and now, I create my space and begin my life here. For real!

Baggage Disaster

2012-08-17T23:47:00.000-07:00

I've been back in Berlin 4 days. I understand more German than I thought I would, my flatmates greeted me with a spectacular breakfast, I have gotten to spend a lot of quality time with Robert, and I have obtained a fabulous blue leather couch, which I'm sure I'll post a picture of at some point. I have hung out with a few of my favorite people in a few of my favorite places and enrolled in an online TESOL course which I hope to complete in under two months, therefore increasing my potential for finding a job while I am learning German. That's all the good news.
As far as my luggage (i.e, everything I own) goes, this proves to be a stressful disaster. The first thing that went wrong in with my baggage seems to have happened at SFO, when the person checking me in to my flight did not give me my luggage receipts, making it more difficult to trace my luggage, which was lost. When I arrived at Tegel and my luggage did not show up, I had to go to the lost and found, where I described my bags. The woman behind the desk assured me that indeed, I would have my luggage by the next day. I was given a phone number to call so I could track my luggage, which of course does not work. Also, the woman at Globe Ground Berlin (the company that handles Air Berlin's baggage) told me I could check my bags status online. Of course, this website has not been updated for days.
After 2 days of freaking out, trying to call again and again, I finally went to the airport yesterday. I talked to a woman at Globe Ground. She made some phone calls. "Sorry. We don't know where it is."
"Find it." I am trying very hard to remain friendly, but I'm starting to lose it. She makes some more phone calls.
"It's here. You can pick it up now."
I am by myself at the airport and I am expecting three very heavy bags, only one of which has wheels. "I was told it would be delivered."
She makes another phone call. "You will get your bags today."
So I go back to Robert's and wait for Katha to arrive with the rental van so we can move the couch. My bags come around 19:45. But there are only two of them, the large rolling bag with my painted box and some clothes and my new Doc Martins, and my sewing machine case that I had packed books, shoes, and some fabric in. Lucky I did not check my sewing machine through, as the airline broke my case. Assholes. And where is my black duffel bag? No one knows. This is the bag containing the majority of my clothes, more fabric, all of my chargers, my electrical converter plug and all my socks and underwear, not to mention a lot of my artwork. I paid almost $200 to check all of these bags. And now this one is- who knows? So I call the toll free American Airlines number from my Skype account, thus making it free. Of course, since I flew four days ago, they no longer have the tracking numbers which they neglected to give me in the first place. The extremely unhelpful gentleman on the phone gives my three numbers that might be linked to my lost bag. Now I get to go back to the horribly unorganized Tegel airport AGAIN and try to find my bag. Hopefully I will come home with it. Then Robert and I will go swim naked in a lake, so at least that is nice.
I'm trying to not be materialistic about this, but the fact is that replacing all this stuff would be expensive. Checking the bag was expensive. I want my stuff.