It's a funny thing...

...sitting in an oversized seat at the CINEPLEX diving into my oversized bucket of popcorn w/ extra butter while balancing a transpiring super-sized diet coke cup between my thunder thighs, anticipating yet another Holiwood flic, I do not want to think this, but here it is anyway: only because we can super-size anything, from popcorn, to cars, breast, houses, bonuses...we shouldn't.

Super, super-sized, super-fast, super-latives, it has become our culture, but it is a concept in need of review.

Sigh!

It's past nine again. I am completely wiped after a day of ripping out shrubs that I planted in the place of flowers that were not to be there to begin with, while at the same time keeping Julian out of trees, reviewing French irregular verbs with Zoe and planning for Lea's first sleep over. It was the topic of the day, of course, and so while I was hauling clumps of roots around the garden, I was also going through a list of things in my mind to remember, in order not to scare Lea's new best friend away. After all, she has horses!

The obvious first one being, of course, not to use the f... word too often. The next one then trying not to launch the juice maker through the window again. Or if it can't be avoided (I hate juice makers) to at least say "Oops." And also, to plan my trip to the bathroom better in order not to emerge, as usual, like venus out of the waves - stark naked. Only Jules finds that mildly entertaining. And the list goes on.

I wonder why she is looking so much forward to the visit. Maybe it is more about me then her friend. Maybe she is getting back at me, maybe she just wants me to be NORMAL for once.

Don't go there

There are certain believes we hold to be true. They form the foundation of our identities and questioning them is tantamount to questioning the very backbone of our societies.
Only few brave minds dare go there. Even though most of it is not completely uncharted territory in this post post-modern era, it nevertheless is rough, unpredictable and inhospitable. Asking too many questions can lead to all kinds of trouble.

I remember being on the way to catch a bus in DC one hot sweltering day in August 1994 while some thoughts were roaming around in my mind when suddenly, just like that, they were gone. But what was special about that time was that I actually noticed those thoughts being erased. And to this day it chills me to remember how I stopped in my tracks, the bus came and went, and I just stared. It was a true epiphany as I realized that I was keeping myself from following the thoughts down to the next level.

I don’t remember what it was that I was thinking about, but I recall that it did produce a certain level of discomfort; and so my subconscious self-protection kicked in and turned it off, only this time luckily not fast enough to go unnoticed.

Amazing! The power of the subconscious. In fact, I am convinced that this powerful mechanism has ensured the survival of our species as we know it today. It is wide-spread and generally benefits those who make ample use of it. After all, ignorance is bliss.

The most unethical and even cruel acts are committed with the perpetrators claiming not to remember or not to be guilty of any wrong doing. And they believe it. It’s one of the truths we like to cling on to. It’s never us...it’s never what’s close to us.

No one Behind the Sofa...yet

I just finished painting my office and I am wiped. It was one of these mad projects that one should probably not attempt and definitely not when operating on a sleep-deficit the size of Indiana. But it had to be done. I had to reclaim my space or people were going to be found behind the sofa, mauled.

I also probably shouldn't be writing this...or write at all, because at all times there are other things that are probably more important: Bloody knees, verb conjugations, food burning... but then, again, those bodies come to my mind and I decide to sit down to type a few lines that connect me to who I am, who I was, who I want to be, who I will be, would be, can be, should be...

Whoever said, life is easy is a lier. I don't think anyone ever did though.

A Mother's Jeans

Have you ever browsed through a magazine at a news stand, then moved on to something else, and later wished you had bought it?

When in Germany the last time, I came across a scientific article published in a popular psychology magazine, and now I wish I had bought it. Instead I put it down, got distracted and carried on with life, to remember it only now. In the meantime, I probably saved Julian from certain death at least thirty-one times and the world from Julian at least twice as often.

It was a promising article, though. The author was presenting a study according to which human intelligence is handed down through the mother’s genes. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to find out more about the study and how the author handled the slippery subject of “intelligence.” Googling key words has gotten me nowhere so far.

But can you imagine what this could mean? All the Bachs and daVincis of the world, their mothers long forgotten, or at least little credited...

These days, the German government is enticing women who hold academic degrees to consider procreation despite the high opportunity costs of motherhood. Maybe I should give the Familienministerium a call. They seem to know something...

Screwed

It so happens that all my female friends - the one I have stuck with anyway - are great human beings: smart, kind, witty, perceptive, centered and generally fun to be around.

Moving from place to place, I have made friends with women of all kinds of background, color, nationality, religion, you name it. But apart from being smart, kind, witty, perceptive, centered and generally fun to be around, they all share another characteristic: they are all heterosexual - and, to put it bluntly, it hasn’t done them any good...or most of them anyway.

F... there are a lot of assholes out there!! And it begs the question why these smart, witty and perceptive human beings have put up with them. Conditioning, disillusionment, hormonal knock out?

The fact is, most of my friends have by now been left by at least one of their partners. They are raising children on their own, fighting for child support, coping with insufficient child care and crazy work schedules.

One was deserted when she got diagnosed with cancer in the course of her pregnancy and the guy realized that that was really too much to deal with.

The other was left for some Argentine bimbo half her age, after giving birth to a child with down syndrome.

And then there is K. who for the longest time supported her husband and two sons by working night-times for companies in India and the US, until he thought that it was time to move on.

Most, however, were left before they were introduced to the merriments of motherhood - and that was probably lucky. One because she wanted to read Western magazines and go jogging instead of sitting hour after hour huddled together with her sisters-in-kaw, another because she was too successful, and my gorgeous best friend, because her boobs were not the right size, shape...or was it the circumference...?

My aunt always says there are two sides to the story and I tell her, yes, but one of them is
usually worse than the other and it’s rarely the one cracking the misogynistic jokes. She also says that she knows women who have done exceedingly well after divorces, and I tend to tell her that she is lucky. I know of one, and I am glad for her, even though I would scarcely count her among my friends.