I have an answer for almost everything. Yes, it’s entirely possible that my answer is purely fictional, and that, by the time I’m finished, I’ll be fighting back the giggles because I got you to believe whatever I’m saying, but still, I pride myself on coming up with answers. And, when the question is about me, you’d better believe I’ll have an answer for you.

Hey! That's me! With new short hair (and Jared and Rudi)! And yes, we're tailgating. How did you guess?

Except for one question: Why did you cut your hair?

I’ve been getting this question a lot (understandably, because my hair is now considerably shorter than it’s ever been), and I’ve been giving a lot of answers, but at the risk of sounding pathetically philosophical, none of those answers really, well, answer the question. I mean, I’m not lying when I say that I’ve been drooling over Michelle Williams’ hair on the cover of Vogue (it’s a wig! did you know that?), and it’s true that I was certainly ready for a change. But, I think the reason I gave the go-ahead was a little deeper than that.

Other people seem to be able to define me a little better than I can define myself. People say I’m athletic, or preppy, or a fashionista, or a million other things. And they’re all true, but I swear to god, I learn something new and surprising about myself every day. So, I guess I wanted a haircut that made people, even the people who’ve known me my whole life, take a second look at me, and maybe see the edgier side of me, or the fact that I can, on occasion, be spontaneous (you know, with the right planning and as long as I know what’s going on …).

Is it completely insane that I’m putting this much thought into why I chopped my hair? I mean, I don’t know why it’s not enough for me to just answer, “Because I thought it would be cool, and IT IS.” But hey, that’s just another side to me — I’m also complicated, apparently.

(In other news, how cute is Rudi in her little t-shirt there? It’s one of my old ones, but let’s be honest — it looks better on her than it ever did on me!)

Following last September’s sell-out edition, it’s now time to JAM again! Squadron and DonDisko proudly present the second edition of JAM FACTORY on the 11th of December, this time at Escape Club (ex-Dukes). The night will include a fusion of genre`s from Nu-Rave, Fidget House, Electro, Chicago House, Techno, to Italo Disco. Featuring Rudi, Mathematikal, Squeak and Fat 32. Tickets at €5 only! If you’re interested in selling tickets get in touch now

TOO MUCH CAKE.
TOO MUCH FOOD.
I am full to overflowing, and we have to go eat again tomorrow. I am never eating again.

This was the before-dinner cake.

The candles were blown out in order of seniority. First was Papa:

Next came Janny:

Then our hero:

And then young Eric:

After this Kelsey made a full gourmet meal and we ate it. She also baked a cake with fresh fruit… but we decided to hold off until tomorrow. I sit here with my stomach on my lap. No photos – sorry!

Because Kelsey had to work Sunday, and has to work on the actual Thanksgiving Monday, Rudi and I, and Mary and Mara, went to La Piazza to enjoy the holiday meal together with Kelsey.

Kelsey had bought some lovely flowers for our table!

Mara and Rudi –

And Mary and me –

When you have Thanksgiving at an Italian restaurant, you don’t always get the traditional meal of turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing, etc.

Mara had manicotti, and I am not sure about the presentation!

Rudi had the stuffed shells, and in this photo his broccoli had already disappeared down his gullet. Wait, does he have a gullet, or do only turkeys have gullets?

Kelsey made Mary some stuffed peppers, since she’s vegan and can never eat off the menu. These had raisins and rice pilaf and more.

And I, somehow following in my mother’s footsteps, had the veal piccata with a massive salad (it pays to know the chef), and their salad dressing is delivious!

Ms. Chef had saved herself this lovely prime ribby cut of steak -

Not a cranberry in sight!

But I had brought one of the desserts, a pumpkin pie and vanilla ice cream. Kelsey called from the restaurant around noon and asked me to make a pie. Rudi and I ran around Ottawa looking for the ingredients and Breyer’s vanilla, which in years past has generally been sold out. But I pulled it off, and arrived at La Piazza with a steaming hot pumpkin pie!

And, due to the non-vegan content of the pie, Kelsey had made some white peach and blueberry crisps for Mary (though we got to take one home for breakfast) -

It was a lovely evening with two of our beloved daughters, Kelsey and Mara -

and we dearly seriously badly missed Meghan and Maya.

Hope all you Canadians have a lovely Thanksgiving with those you most love.

Look at this guy -

He has a pen, ready to take notes.

He has a headset, listening to one of Steven Decker’s chats.

He’s got his computer, editing out the extraneous from Steven’s pearls.

He’s just so – 2009.

Todo mundo assiste novela. Mesmo quem fala que não suporta ser enganado por tanto tempo (lê-se: mainha), tem aquela preferida, ou se deixa levar por alguns capítulos. Eu estudo a noite e não tenho tempo de acompanhar as novelas da Globo (nem Malhação tô conseguindo ver toda ), chego depois das 22h e a única novela que dá tempo de assistir é a novela da máfia, Poder Paralelo. Gosto muito desse “novo jeito de fazer novela” que a emissora adotou, e, mesmo exagerando nos mistérios, nas cenas de perseguição, nos mutantes e no tempo do folhetim, ainda dá pra espremer e tirar o chorinho.  Um exemplo disso é o ‘casal’ Rudi e Fernanda. Eles são perfeitos! Não fosse o fato dela ser casada e seu marido ser da máfia, e ele fosse um viciado que vive com a cabeça fora do lugar. Ela o ama…… como amigo. Ele sofre por isso. Ela se apaixonou pelo seu irmão. Ele brigou com a família por causa disso. A cena mais linda que eu vi com eles foi ontem, quando ele perguntou: ”porquê o Tony?”. Nem sei na verdade porque eu escrevi esse post, mas eu queria muito falar dos dois.

Auf Wiedersehen Haupttribüne, willkommen Haupttribüne.

Von den Aktiven aus dem Gründungsjahr des magischen FC lebt keiner mehr. Ivo Knoflicek ist auch nicht mehr in unserem Kader und Stani ist nicht so weltfremd, dass er hier noch sein 75. Berufsjubiläum als Trainer feiern wird.

Abschied ist immer ein Teil des ganzen Vereins, Abschied von Beinen und seit Corny Littmann auch von Steinen. Die neue Südtribüne steht, die alte Haupttribüne geht. Und zwar wohl noch vor dem 25.10.. Am Ende geht immer alles ganz schnell. Aber Tribünen kommen, Tribünen gehen – wir wollen die Mannschaft sehen!

Das neue Stadion-Teilstück soll 4500 Plätze fassen. Die alte Haupttribüne bietet lediglich 2900 Zuschauern Platz. Bis 2014 soll das gesamte Millerntor-Stadion erneuert sein. Via SZ

Der Zeitplan sieht nun vor, dass mit dem Abriss der alten Haupttribüne möglichst noch vor dem Spiel gegen Energie Cottbus am 25. Oktober begonnen werden soll. Via Kicker

Gelegenheit zum Abschied in Beiseien eines ehemaligen Europapokalsiegers: Fr. 16.10.2009 19:30 – Regionalliga Nord, 11. Spieltag, FC St. Pauli II vs. 1. FC Magdeburg

It’s an ugly, rainy day today, but I just finished a two-mile run with Rudi. I love running in the rain — always have — and the reasons are two-fold. One, it keeps you cool; that’s a no brainer. The second reason is the one I fear might make me … kind of an ass.

Have you ever run in the rain and looked at the people watching you run by? It’s a whole different experience than when you run by on a beautiful day. When it’s sunny and gorgeous, people think, “Well, isn’t that nice. She’s out running and enjoying this beautiful day. Good for her.”

When you run in the rain, the people watching you are thinking more along the lines of, “Wow, she must really be dedicated to be running in this weather. She’s probably in great shape. I wish I had that kind of motivation.” And, you all, I really like when people think I’m a motivated runner who’s in great shape.

You see, they have no way of knowing that I’ve run a total of, like, SIX MILES since announcing I would be running 13.1 of them in a few months. (Well, eight miles, now, but shhh — this will be our secret!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To those of you who have asked, I’m alright. I know it’s been a month since I’ve posted, and I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t been a really difficult month. It’s been awful. I miss Yuki everyday, but the outpouring of kind thoughts (and lovely cards and even donations made to Puppy Hill Farm in Yuki’s memory — thanks Deana!) has given me a new appreciation for the kindness of family, friends, and strangers. You know I’m not a hugger, but if I could, I would give each of you a massive bear hug (and probably make you cry, because I seem to be doing that to people lately).

Rudi is doing well, too — we’re trying to plan lots of puppy playdates with neighbors and friends, and she’s going for more walks than ever before. Plus, she’s getting spoiled as hell. Oh, you want to come up on the couch? Sure, just this once. You want another treat? I don’t see why not …

And yes, we will get another dog, one of these days. Not now, but when the time is right, we’ll know. And when that happens, I know there will be difficulties, but I have no doubt we’ll find the good in that, too.

continuing from

>

ogni volta che dormiamo, per un paio di lunghi minuti, i nostri occhi fremono sotto le palpebre. il sogno, come il sonno, è fondamentale per l’essere umano. molti si chiedono se gli animali sognino. il delfino, pare, dorme con un emisfero per volta. non facesse così, dormisse come noi, beh… affogherebbe nell’oceano. non sappiamo se sogni. forse lo fanno le scimmie superiori. ma anche questo è dubbio. cosa potrebbe sognare un delfino? e un gorilla? e uno scimpanzé?

secondo me, i miei gatti sognano. rudi, il più piccolo, dopo che si addormenta, si mette pancia in su e, all’improvviso, comincia ad agitare le zampe, si contorce, si allunga. e io mi chiedo sempre cosa sogni quando fa così e a volte, in barba alla ragione, gli domando: rudi, che sogni?

***

ci sono sogni che sai essere sogni.

ci sono sogni che pensi siano realtà.

poi… c’è l’onirico – che non sai mai cos’è.

la coscienza e l’immaginazione, il percetto e la fantasia, in questi casi, si sospendono a vicenda, lasciandoci interdetti – forse addirittura contaminati. non si tratta più, come direbbe aristotele nella sua poetica, di distinguere vero e falso, e verosimile da inverosimile. il nostro principio di realtà muta e semplicemente ci troviamo sospesi sull’orizzonte di un altro mondo, la nostra coscienza espansa sull’abisso della possibilità, ai bordi dell’ universo.

il vero è anche falso, l’inverosimile possibile.

quando sogni così, non ti risvegli mai del tutto. la memoria ti lascia il dubbio. non c’è l’amarezza da sogno interrotto. né la gioia che l’incubo era solo quello, un incubo. semplicemente, una parte di noi, non saprei dire quale, rimane affacciata. come in attesa. non si torna. non si ritorna. si può solo andare con un passo diverso.

se la catarsi dell’incubo anestetizza le nostre paure, se il sogno orgasmico, per qualche momento, ci spalanca alla felicità, allora tanto i bei sogni che gli incubi, per chiamarli in qualche modo, rispondono a degli insoluti. o, per dirla con freud, si può tentare una spiegazione funzionale che razionalizza il fenomeno: i sogni, e gli incubi, sublimano i desideri più reconditi, le ambizioni ed aspirazioni più riposte, le pulsioni più segrete e dolorose.

tuttavia, queste spiegazioni non spiegano l’onirico.

se sogni e incubi danno risposte a domande già poste, forse l’onirico pone nuove domande, trasformandoci.

ma cos’è una domanda?

ci sono sogni e sogni, insomma.

ma c’è anche un sonno senza sogni. pesante. che non ristora, che non drena, né sublima, né purifica. ti lascia esattamente com’eri: senza domande, senza risposte.

***

ho passato gran parte della mia infanzia a sentir mia madre che mi parlava di un uomo chiamato martin luther king. tuttavia io, nato appena sette anni dopo la sua morte, ero troppo piccolo per capire bene chi fosse e cosa volesse.

oggi, che sono un uomo, so che nel 1964 è stato insignito del premio nobel, il più giovane nobel per la pace di sempre. so che era un pastore protestante, un politico, un pacifista, il leader di uno dei più importanti movimenti per i diritti civili. quando ero bambino, dai racconti di mia madre, avevo capito solo che era nero e che questo aveva a che fare col suo assassinio: erano le 18:01 del 4 aprile del 1968, martin luther king aveva appena 39 anni, e, mentre si affacciava al balcone della sua stanza al secondo piano di un hotel di memphis, una sola pallottola, sparata da un fucile di precisione, gli ha trapassato il cranio.

martin luther king aveva un sogno. un sogno semplice, quasi naturale. non saprei dire che tipo di sogno fosse.

forse il suo era solo un sogno giusto. tanto da meritare il silenzio.

bang

***

in un articolo contenuto in la cultura del romanzo, e intitolato dall’oralità alla scrittura, l’antropologo jack goody, esperto di culture orali, scrive: la forma narrativa del caso clinico non si produce spontaneamente, ma viene sollecitata, e di conseguenza creata su misura: si tratta inoltre del prodotto di una società dotata di scrittura e di procedure connesse alla scrittura; essa rappresenta… un assemblaggio di frammenti montati in modo da creare una continuità narrativa che non si presenta mai (o molto di rado) al ricercatore. a noi sembra naturale fornire un compendio narrativo delle nostre vite per un curriculum o per esporlo a un analista, per un diario o un’autobiografia. ma siamo sicuri che sia così per le culture orali?… direi piuttosto che sono io, l’antropologo, lo psicologo, lo storico, a cercare di costruire storie di vita (o storie di altro tipo) a partir dai frammenti di conoscenza che incontro sul mio cammino, o dall’ardua lotta per far sì che l’informatore risponda alle mie domande, articolando dunque per me un discorso che non farebbe in nessun’altra occasione. le storie di tipo biografico non emergono spontaneamente, sono pesantemente costruite. la storia non si limita a riportare i “fatti”, ma fornisce loro una forma narrativa a partire da frammenti di esperienza che si presentano in modo molto differente.

***

“bene” dico alle tante maestre ed all’unico maschio “dato che non ci sono domande, avrei finito. ci vediamo la settimana prossima.”

to be continued

>

Endlich sind die Neuheiten da!

Alle neuen Artikel aus der F´lys Serie finden Sie hier!

Weihanchtscharms!! – meine 3 Lieblingsteile!

to the lovely beach behind the restaurant On Da Beach. For those who have enjoyed it, On Da Beach (motto — No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem!) re-opens today after being closed for *H* season. Maybe next week we’ll pre-order its chicken souse for dinner.

We met the lovely neighbour Jolie’s daughter and niece coming back from the beach – they said it was high tide and there wasn’t much space to walk, sit or lie. That was true! The waves and wind were wonderful, and we definitely got sprayed and I got pretty wet – thank goodness for the Canon D10!

The winds are slated to die down by Wednesday this week. If you’ve been there – it sounds like Curacao, violent and enthusiastic winds, which sound like a storm or a front is coming through, yet it doesn’t arrive. In Ottawa if we heard this wind we’d bring an umbrella and raincoat. Here it is warm and not wet.

Here is On Da Beach, closed. I will contrast this one day with how it looks when it is open!

And the beach… with a beachcomber!

and

This was our first beach visit since we arrived, too. For those who think that living in the Abacos is all about sun and fun – it is also about work!

On a lazy morning…

‘Kurisumasu’ – seit dem Ende von ‘Haruwen’ [Halloween für alle, die English aussprechen können, wozu die meisten Japaner definitiv nicht zählen] sind wir vor dem Christmas-Kitsch nicht sicher. Sie quälen uns nicht nur mit ihrem Katakana-Englisch, sondern auch mit ihrem aus anscheinend übermässigen “Bambi”-Konsum und anderen Disney-Schmachtfilmen entstandenem Verständnis von Weihnachtsgefühl…

Hier wieder ein paar Impressionen, diesmal aus Center Minami (es werden sicherlich nicht die letzten sein).

Well, the view from the front veranda, at least!
The ocean is across the street, and these houses are in front of us on the same side of the street.

These are one I don’t know the name of (it is too small on the house – but it is cool that all of the houses are named here), and Casa Luisa on the right.

And this would be a piece of Casa Luisa, then Jolie’s house on the left and Erica and Dewey’s porch railing on the right.

And this is — wait a minute!
What’s HE doing here??
Ah, lunch break! Some excuse! Get back to work!

Which of these three do you think is most Rudi, most professional but friendly?

Thoughts? Which would you choose?

We need a photo of Rudi and me (individually) for something special, let’s just say a larger banner/poster sort of thing.
This is an older one, and a kinda strange smile, but Rudi looks pretty good in it. Professional enough, like a nice guy.

But it isn’t loved by all. What do you think? Shall we use this, or should I take a new (and of course, a better) photo?

What do you think? I’d love to hear!