Thanksgiving 2008, Yorkshire, England

On Thanksgiving morning I took a low cost, absolutely no frills Ryan Air flight to Eastern Midlands Airport, where my former UPENN roommate and long-time friend Leah picked me up. Leah has been living in England for a couple years now and this was my second visit and second Thanksgiving celebration with her. The first time Marks & Spencer's was to thank, but this time around we had the absolutely best Thanksgiving potluck dinner I have ever witnessed. My favorites? Well, that's a tough one. Leah and I made the world's best mashed potatoes. I kid you not - We received rave reviews and multiple requests for our "killer" recipe. But, I have to admit, I was a pushover for the sweet potatoes, cranberry salad, and pumpkin pie with eggnog. I've made extraordinary efforts for several years now NOT to eat seconds, but I could not resist.

Leah doesn't check my blog all that often so serves her right!!! Here she is starting our meal off. You'll notice our mashed potatoes in the white corningware in the lower-right corner.

Simply put, we had a feast. What you don't see too well on the table was homemade challah bread and rolls. I could go on raving about the food, but will stop there. The company was also much fun. We had a few rounds of Guitar Hero. And, to top the night off -- Mark and Steph you would approve -- I watched my first episodes of "Flight of the Conchords". Just call me Chris-Hiphopopotamus. Ain't no party like my nana's tea party!

Well, it's way past midnight and I have yet to start my Russian homework. I think my neighbors are baking Christmas cookies and it has me quite distracted as you might be able to tell!

First Snow

Today's agenda included a trip to the gym and a viewing of The Bourne Identity, The Bourne Supremacy, and The Bourne Ultimatum. That's right... we watched all three. I must admit that Matt Damon and Jason Bourne were on my mind since Friday night. I went to bed on Friday feeling as if it were Christmas eve... the anticipation of 6-8 hours of non-stop action with Jason Bourne and friends Sheila and Leah and others weighed delightedly upon me....Saturday simply could not come soon enough.

As I was preparing to leave my flat around 12 pm, I happened to glance at the Google weather widget on my laptop...I was very surprised to see a temperature of 29 or 30 degrees and white specks symbolizing snow in the graphic display. Hmmm, I thought, scratching my head....Didn't realize snow was in the forecast, and also didn't know the temperature was dropping into the 30s. A bit clueless, I made my way to the living room window to see for myself... Well, well, well, the weather gadget was right...before my very eyes there was snow! It took me 3 hours from the time I awoke to notice, but I finally put it together.

Granted, it is merely a dusting, but nonetheless, we had our first official snowfall here in Prague. I grabbed my handy Nokia N95 (feel like I'm doing product placement) and snapped a few shots to document the occasion and to share with you all. Up close and personal... snow on my windowsill... Yes, I'm fascinated.

I'm very happy to report that my walk to the gym was invigorating. Everyone was out in their winter's finest. Snow caps, furs, hats, and gloves. The crisp air made me feel alive and kicking. It wasn't a drag at all to make the 20 minute walk. And, my workout? It was exhilarating... cardio, weights, and sauna. My blood was pumping better than it has in a long time.

You might have guessed... I had to go and ruin that natural high with one too many sweets at the Jason Bourne/Matt Damon fete. I am inspired though... I don't really have the nerves for Bourne's work, but I'd sure like to be fit and agile and handy with the languages like he is.

Around Amsterdam

So, I just got back from a long weekend break in Amsterdam. I flew in Friday night and met up with my friend Fal from Hoboken/NYC. Here are just a few of the beautiful sights we took in.

The adventure begins... couldn't have wished for a better day!

As you can see, this is my type of place!

The flowers aren't too shabby either... what variety they have!

All in all, it was a great 4 days: walking the canals, eating crepes, drinking hot chocolate to forget about the cold and rain, trying multiple dutch sweets, seeing Rembrandt and Van Gogh, visiting the very cool, interactive Jewish museum, and of course, time with Fal and breakfast with Becky!

PS: That was some of the highlights... I also had a bit of an accident, getting my foot stuck in a tram track as I was crossing the street. The tram was coming in the distance. I ended up busting my two knees and ankle, putting an ugly hole in my favorite corduroy pants. Health report: I will live, but I can't kneel right now.

Night Owl - Yes, I am

It is now 10:30 pm and I'm waiting on my dinner to finish simmering. Good news is I'm making my first lentil soup. No, it's not rocket science, but for some reason this is my first fore into soup.

I am embarrassed to say, but I could have eaten at least 1 or 2 hours ago. But, no, I was totally taken in by a project at work -- our new Intranet -- trying to work out some technical quirks and try out some new gadgets. Ever have a certain picture in your head of what something should look like or taste like? Well, in my case, I most certainly do and this perfectionism is driving me crazy these days.

Well, it wasn't just my obsession with figuring some stuff out on Sharepoint... I also got a call from my mom just as I was about to turn my computer off and head to the gym. It was sweet to hear her voice and worth the delay.

I have another sneaky suspicion as to my burst of night energy...Could it be Sudafed and Claritin? To help me breathe at night, I am now taking the two allergy meds every day. This is a switch from Zyrtec which knocked me out and had me feeling loopy more often than not.

I'm definitely not complaining about being energetic after a long period of serious lethargy, but I sure wish I could simply get up early instead of staying up so darn late. It is now 10:45 pm and I am just turning to my Russian homework. That will for sure take me at least an hour. C'est ma vie!

My whereabouts

Well, I got an email today from my dad asking for my blog address so I thought I'd best start writing again. It has definitely been a long break and I'm not quite sure where to start... rest assured it has been an eventful end of summer and entry into fall.

This September, I spent 3 weeks in DC, which was good to get my bearings. While I did work the majority of my time, I had the opportunity to reconnect with dear friends and family, including a mini-roadtrip with my brother Mark and friend Siutang down to Duke to celebrate my sister Stephanie's 25th birthday along with my other sister Karen and her husband Christian and what seemed at the time to be about 1/3 of Duke's 2nd year medical school students. Yes, Stephanie is a super social one! Long story short: time stateside was jam-packed, but very rich. I returned to Prague refreshed and refueled... with absolutely no connection to the amount of Starbucks coffee and Cosi breakfast sandwiches I put in my body. And, I'll add, it had nothing to do with the fact I had phenomenal success at poker over at Raymond's and Justin's place. Okay, well, maybe just a bit :)



Over Columbus day weekend, I hopped a plane to Venice where I attended my friends' wedding. The barrier island of Lido was the perfect place to retreat from the crowds of Venice and Prague. I have to say Trieste this July tops Venice in terms of food, but I did enjoy a great weekend catching up with friends and former colleagues from NYC and my corporate paralegal days. Hard to think my life (at least 2.5 years of it) revolved around distressed debt transaction work. That I'm glad to say feels like a lifetime ago. I would have liked to explore Venice more, take in the Murano glass factory and wander through the canals, but to be honest I'm not sure if my patience for overflowing tourists and water transport would have lasted much longer.

This coming weekend I'm meeting my friend Fal - another NYC or rather Hoboken friend - in Amsterdam. I can already smell the smoked gouda - yum!

And, when I haven't been on the road or in the airplane, I have been totally enthralled by the HBO series, The Wire, the police drama set on the streets of Baltimore. Tonight I finished season 3 and I'm happy to say Avon Barksdale is once again behind bars along with most of his gang; Stringer Bell is no longer; Omar is still kicking, yes, indeed; Cuttie left the game, now doing his best to reach kids with boxing, and Bubbles seems to be relatively clean, peddling "whities" in a grocery cart. I love the fact I can't name one favorite character - I'm taken by many of their stories. I am told season 4 focuses on the Baltimore school system and can't wait. If you haven't seen The Wire, you simply must. End of story.

Croatia's Dalmatian Coast - How Sweet T'is

One week of vacation is not enough. It takes nearly 7 days to let go and relax. Although I absolutely loved my July holiday on the Dalmatian Coast, in retrospect, if I could do it again, I'd identify one place (two max) and simply plop myself for minimum of 7 days, but if at all possible 10 or more. From July 19-26, together with my parents, I hopped from Split to Dubrovnik to Korcula to Hvar and back to Split. While I liked the diversity, it was a bit hard getting up for 6 am ferries and 7 am buses. Next year, if I go back, I think I'll play it a bit different. Live and learn - right?

Living history

This morning I walked to work to be greeted by an antique Soviet tank. Yes, right there in front of the National Museum - as part of events on Wenceslaus Square in honor of the 40th anniversary of the Soviet and Warsaw Pact invasion of Czechoslovakia - sits an old tank with mock artillery audible in the background. The Soviet-led invasion's aim was to squelch Prague Spring - the reform package orchestrated by Alexander Dubcek, what came to be known as "socialism with a human face".

I really, really, really apologize I did not bring my camera this morning. It's not everyday Soviet tanks are on display. One thing I could not get over was the number of people lining up for pictures with the tank. Everyone had a huge smile on their face. I don't know - it seems to me such an historic symbol should elicit a more somber attitude.

With recent events in Georgia on the mind, I must say, these are certainly interesting days we live in.

Where has the summer gone?

Well, it has been a while... Where have I been? Simple answer: 1 week on the Dalmatian coast; side trips to Bratislava, Pezinok, and Dresden; entertaining my parents; and, oh yes, working very hard.

After nearly one month, my mom and dad, Mary Lou and Ed, are headed back to upstate NY on Wednesday morning. I can hardly believe it! It has been a wonderful time together. To give you a brief taste... my mom treated me to homemade pancakes with fresh strawberry sauce this morning and she also did a sewing job for me. Oh, and they cleaned my entire apartment for my birthday. It doesn't really matter how old I get, they love to do those special things.

Over the last few weeks we've had a number of adventures. We were up and down the Dalmatian coast of Croatia. We also made a trip to Bratislava where we met distant relatives on my dad's side of the family. This last Sunday I showed Dresden to my parents. They enjoyed giant bratwurst and raved about German coffee (not beer). Hands down - Czech beer is my parents' favorite. We also celebrated my birthday at Aromi - a restaurant I've been dying to try. To say the least, it was a full, rich, blessed time together.

So, my place is going to be silent when I return home on Wednesday night. Of course, I will still have German Eurosport to keep me abreast of Olympic developments, but I wont have my dad on the couch next to me, asking questions about the optimal height for a swimmer, commenting on the phenomenal abilities of Michael Phelps.

Looking on the bright side, following the departure of my final summer visitors, I hope to get more rest. For a change, I'm thinking it would simply be nice "to just be".

Breakfast of Champions

And, procrastinators, I'd add.

The above picture shows the amazing breakfast Nathan treated us to the morning Jeanne flew out, back to the East Coast. Making Saturday breakfast just happens to be a new tradition in the Nathan and Masha household. Lucky us! Homemade apple-oatmeal muffins, cheese omelet, Canadian bacon, and hash browns - what more could you ask for.

I actually just finished my own breakfast today. I made my famous pancakes, but this time made sour milk with some Italian lemon juice. The pancakes came out very puffy as well as had a noticeable lemon undertone. I am/was happy!

If I could only get the motivation to start cleaning my place, get to the grocery store, and to exercise....

Slow but steady, the turtle beat the hare. Now for one step forward towards the closet with the vacuum...

May showers bring June visitors and sunshine galore

Nathan, Masha, Jeanne and I take a breather near the Bedrich Smetana statute, looking out over the Vltava river.

A particular highlight of their visit: playing the card game "Up the River" at Riegrovy Sady beer garden one Friday night. I must give credit where credit is due. Nathan won to my competitive dismay, rubbing my nose in the ground (not literally, of course). Fun was certainly had by all - even me!

What else? I was successful in turning Nathan, Masha (perhaps?) and Jeanne (I think?) on to soccer during the 2008 Euro Cup. After agreeing to a friendly brotherly-sisterly wager, I was swept up in the barrage of games. Nearly every night a game. It was crazy. Finish work, head home or to the beer garden, watch soccer, go to bed, get up and do it all over again - what a routine! I actually had a minor withdrawal after the Spaniards beat the Germans in the final.

The tournament was pretty outstanding from this lay woman's perspective! As for me, I was pulling for Michael Ballach, Lukas Podolski, and Schweinsteigger - the Kanzlerin's team. German TV carried more than one glimpse of Germany's Angela Merkel up in the stands. But sadly, Germany in the end just did not have what it took to overcome Spain. They were just too darn much. It was still quite the ride for this adopted Germany fan! Yes, I'm a convert.

Oh, and yes, I ended up losing to my brother Mark. A little lesson I learned: when you have a bet - even a friendly one - you get so caught up in wanting your chosen team to win that it sucks some of the simple joy and pleasure out of watching a good game. Hmmm...

Proof of Life

Yes, I am alive. And, I'm still writing... after a long respite. What can I tell you? This past month I had three visitors (Jeanne, Nathan & Masha) and am expecting two VIP guests in less than two weeks (mom and dad). I also just got back from a long weekend in Trieste, Italy, on the northern Adriatic coast. In addition to beer gardens, I have to say I love the cheap airlines flying all over Europe. SkyEurope carried me to Trieste in one hour for $125 roundtrip. You can't beat that.

Trieste is an Italian port town with a strong Austro-Hungarian flare. It was the perfect getaway - Italian seafood, sunshine and Adriatic, Roman ruins, and Maximilian's (Hapsburg) castle, Miramare, with amazing views of the sea. And, I went grocery shopping!! I returned to Prague with parmagianna and adiago cheeses, pumpkin and spinach gnocchi, wrinkled olives, and thick hot chocolate packages. Despite the fact not an ounce of Italian blood flows through my veins, I do share the Italians' passion for food. I can hardly wait to break out the pumpkin gnocchi!!! Don't you wish you were here?

Beer Gardens - You Gotta Lov'em

One thing I especially appreciate about this part of the world is the beer garden. What can be better than sitting at a picnic table, under the shelter of chestnut trees, gently downing a beer or "pivo", enjoying an evening breeze on a warm night, and engaging in conversation ranging from types of dogs to Monster Truck "Sunday, Sunday, Sundays" to the current fad of bringing pet rabbits to restaurants and bars near Old Town Square?

I'm really enjoying the convenience of my current apartment. This is coming from a girl who lived in Hoboken NJ and was intimately familiar with the late night schedule of the PATH train from 33rd St and Christopher Street. Let me tell you: it was brutal some nights; waiting for the PATH rivaled a trip to the dentist in terms of pleasure. When I worked in Manhattan, absolutely NO ONE wanted to make the trek out to Frank Sinatra's stomping grounds. No... we had to cajole and offer rides to our parties and dinners. Of course, it all worked out in the end...friends did eventually come. Never forget that classic American baseball flick, Field of Dreams. I can tell you it is true: Build it and they will come. I still miss the breath-taking view of lower Manhattan from Pier A and B in Hoboken, but it sure did take a whole lotta effort.

But, back to convenience. Get this: I live less than 3 minutes walk from a happening beer garden, Riegrovy Sady. I don't need to stand in line at the port-a-pot. I do love my ability to walk almost anywhere in center city Prague. It's fantastic. As an American, to drive down free-ways, with the windows rolled down, and jiving to one's favorite tunes blaring in the background is the mark of freedom, but I'm a firm believer that to be car free and with happy feet is the true liberty!

The Whiz Kids are it Again in Washington

A record 288 young bucks or brains rather are at it again in Washington, D.C., competing in one of our most cherished American traditions: the Scripps National Spelling Bee. (http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080529/ap_on_re_us/spelling_bee_5)

Looking at the likes of words such as “ambuscade”, “Manhattanese”, “pinyin”, “eidetic” makes me wonder if I still have it in me. I'd like to think the answer is yes, but, man, do these kids today blow my socks off…

For those of us nerds - yes, I am lumping myself in that camp - an all expenses paid trip to Washington, D.C., including air travel and 5 days at a luxury hotel with a parent or guardian was the ultimate reward and satisfaction for enduring other kids’ wise cracks, teachers making a spectacle of you in and out of class, endless nights of falling asleep to tapes of yourself spelling out words, and evening after evening at the kitchen table with the monster of all monsters: Webster's Third New International.

It is hard to believe now in my early 30s, but competing in the National Spelling Bee was a monumental event – a turning point – at the age of 11. For the first time in my life, I realized that if I worked really, really hard, I achieved pretty darn good results and could actually go places. No offense to Binghamton or Chenango Forks Middle School, but the Scripps National Spelling Bee truly opened a door to the wider world not just of unchartered cities and geography, but of opportunity. I was simply so excited to experience life beyond the Southern Tier of New York.

So, what did donning my lucky pair of golden shoes (yes, I actually wore a pair of gold-tinged loafers through every competition) and living and breathing and SPELLING “radzimir”, “filiopietistic”, “ichthyology”, and “zymurology” to name just a few get me… my first ever airplane ride, a special dinner with Mom at Trader Vic’s, champagne brunch (also with Mom), fried bananas, bbq and a Fife and Drum Corp welcoming at George Mason’s estate, Italian with the WHOLE family at Filomena’s in Georgetown, Stephanie making pasta with the Italian ladies in Filomena's window … and the list could go on and on. Of course, eventually, there came “galvanneal” and “debabelization” and ultimately the fatal bell that led me to the "consolation room" where I was greeted by the warm and welcoming embrace of my grandfather and the rest of my Fetzko and Wyszkowski family.

What a ride it was and it is…

Thanks, God.

Running Just to Stand Still

Yes, it has been a while. I don't know where the month of May went. Fortunately, it is not yet over... sigh. With the passing of the month, I will actually hit my 6 month mark, which is hard to fathom. A good friend recently pointed out to me that there is a difference between a defined term and an open-ended move overseas. And, Anna was so right. One processes the two situations in very different ways. The former is temporary, with a known start and end date; the latter ventures into the great unknown. I can't exactly say I feel at home quite yet, but I guess I'm a few steps closer.

Last week was a killer. We had proposals due and along with them a whole lot of moving parts. Somehow, I'd like to think by the grace of God, we pulled it off. I even left work on Friday a little early and caught a bus to Rokytnice nad Jezorou (http://www.rokytnice.com/) for a church retreat. I have to say northern Bohemia is my new favorite place in the country. I love the mountains there, the Krkonose, close to the Polish border. I hiked in the area on May 8th and got to hike yet again this past weekend near the ski slopes.

One of the key themes of the church retreat was "pilgrim or drifter" - what it means to live with purpose and out of our comfort zone for that is truly when God uses us. I came away refreshed and rejuvenated, more able to listen and still myself, and most importantly, with a greater sense of community and the importance of fellowship. We humans are made for relationship - we not only crave it, but require it. The retreat provided the perfect opportunity to get to know people better, including the adorable kids I see running around pews and the like. I came away feeling like I ever so slowly am actually laying down some roots here in the Czech Republic.

Hmmm, what else might be of interest... I actually got up at 6 am this morning and braved the exhaust-filled Prague 2 and Prague 1, and made my way to the Vltava river bank, where I ran up to the mythic Libuse's bath near Vysehrad.


It felt so good to get up early and to run. Of course, I mixed in some walking, too. Who knows, maybe I'll get back in form and do the Budapest 1/2 marathon this fall. We'll see. I still have a far way to go in that respect! Unfortunately, my right hip's bursitis flairs up whenever I get a bit too jogging-happy.

In other news, I played my first game of Risk and lost. I have also taken up cross-stitching, starting with a traditional Slovak pattern, thanks to my dear friend Hanka. I'm sad to say I haven't gotten all that far, but I have hope.

Well, Russian homework is calling...

Weekend update: Wet, wet, baby

Highlights of the weekend:

Getting caught in a torrential downpour on Friday evening on my way home after work. I literally had to hang my clothes and put a towel around my head once I walked in my flat. It was crazy... and I didn't make it easy on myself. Resolved to simply walk up the hill home, I refused to stop and wait out the storm under a store awning. No, as they say in Polish: stubborn like a donkey, that is me.

On Saturday, I hit the ceramics fair in the town of Beroun, a short 40 minute train ride from Prague's Hlavni Nadrazi, passing by Karlstejn castle. Together with Steph from work and her friend in from Geneva, we traversed the main square during dry spells, hitting nearly every stall, in search of ART! When the rain fell, which it persistently did intermittently, we successfully scored a table with a smiley elderly Czech lady and a Popular Mechanic magazine reading/pivo drinking Czech man. We were mad shoppers. My big purchases of the day: an off-green, leaf-motif vase; a decorative aqua-brown bowl; and two mugs in similar color family, i.e. green and aqua. Oh, and I bought lavender.... it smells amazing!

Then on Sunday, I continued the arts and crafts theme of the weekend following a morning sermon on faith. After a lovely lunch with Daniel and Hanka, including coffee, poppy seed roll (as well as raisin roll), and pudding, I started my first Slovak pattern cross-stitch. It will be a monotone blue threaded, snow-flake-like pattern in the shape of a coffee table runner. It was so relaxing to do something with my hands. I can't say I'll be changing my career anytime soon, but hopefully I'll be less stressed :)

Inauspicious beginnings...

On Sunday afternoon, I decided to head outside into the beautiful Prague spring which finally arrived in full force. I took a picnic mat and my backpack stuffed with a book and pillow and was determined to stake out a space in rather lovely Riegovy Sady - the park next door to my apartment. Not more than 5 minutes did I spend in the grass reading To Kill A Mocking Bird, when a bird above dropped the white stuff. I was appalled, extremely appalled. After a long week at work and mounting stresses, this was a straw my haystack simply could not bear, so I picked up my belongings and headed back inside. I was not entirely defeated, however. I dropped my stuff and decided to take my MP3 player, stocked with U2's Joshua Tree, and headed back outside for a walk around Riegovy Sady.

I can't tell you how much I love U2 and how their lyrics ring in my ears and in my heart. I play "Where the Streets Have No Name" and "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" and oh "Running to Stand Still" over and over and over. With lots on my mind and heart, I have taken to walking around Prague, sometimes at night just to get out and about and to think. How many people actually spend an hour once or twice a week walking from Vinohrady - the posh, expat community of Prague - to the Vltava river for views of Prague Castle and back. That is how I sometimes spend an evening if I've got nothing better to do. In the States we have our freeways and cars, when rolling down the windows and blasting the tunes creates a profound sense of freedom. Here in Prague, I have the cobble stone streets as well as asphalt, and the Castle and Charles Bridge. On a good night, the tourists lay low and I am Master and Commander. Other nights, I just block out the multitudes.

I'm happy to report that tonight I visited the biergarten I noticed not far from my flat. I happened to walk by on Sunday evening a bit lonely, wishing I had a few friends to call spur of the moment, sort of what the case was in Virginia and DC. On my way to work this fine Monday, I simply new the weather would be spectacular and felt the day would be marked a failure if I did not rally at least one person to enjoy the joys of sitting outside, ushering in the dark of night, with Czech pivo in hand and good company. Well, I succeeded: I managed to twist the arm of not one, but two colleagues, Julian and Luke. Not only did I have UEFA and the Champions League explained to me in full, but I also laid the groundwork for future Risk, paint ball, and card games.

As I sit at home, fully satisfied with the day's events, I am reminded of the A Team and the immortal Hannibal Smith's (George Peppard) famous line: I love it when a plan comes together.

Barometric pressure and headaches

So, when I was young and fancy free in Wroclaw, Poland back in the 90s, I laughed when my Polish host family members told me about the horrible effects of changing pressure systems upon one's health. They assured me that barometric pressure fluctuations were the culprit behind many a headache, cold, or other bodily ill. It was certain. I can't tell you how many times I asked a friend how he/she was doing and his/her response included something about low or high pressure. Time and time again, I looked at people blank-faced and thought to myself, "Changing barometric pressure: get over it. It can't be that bad." Mind you, I was raised by a father whose favorite phrase was 'buck up'. But, I'd be a liar if I didn't admit I personally feel more aches and joint pain when it rains. The bottom line is quite simple: weather affects us whether we like it or not.

Besides barometric pressure, Poles tend to focus on drafts. I never new the litany of horrors caused by drafts. One hot, sweaty, and entirely unpleasant overnight train journey from Krakow to Frankfurt an der Oder (80 Km east of Berlin) in 1999, my brother Mark and I found out drafts are absolutely never allowed. That's right - no matter how hot a train car in the winter might be, one never, ever opens the window in the middle of winter - even if the windows are steaming and your lungs feel as if they might burst from lack of free-flowing air - because the ensuing draft will make you sick. It became a game. Mark got up a couple of times to open the window and our Polish traveling companions would proceed to close it shortly thereafter. After numerous attempts, Mark, exasperated, just gave up and gasped for breath, lifting his shirt and sweater for a bit of relief. I, on the other hand, exercised extraordinary skill in mind over matter as relates to Polish old wives tales.

Today I was sitting at my desk, trying to clear up my cluttered email inbox and catch up on some reading, when I was overcome with none other than a full-fledged headache, with pressure in my temples and above the eyes. My head felt as if it were Sputnik, and about ready to explode. Of course, we had a rather severe change in weather pattern between yesterday and today. Funny how life works, but after all these years, I totally agree with my Central European friends. My headaches come and go with fluctuations in barometric pressure. I also fall victim to drafts all the time.

That said, I still open my window for fresh air whenever I feel like it - after all, I'm an American.

Incompetency everywhere

I don't think I've ever complained so much in my life. I might need to change my blog title to the "Rants and Raves of Christine". Hmmmm, not so nice. But, I need to vent so please bear with me....

My pet peeve of the last 48 hours... last night I was stressing about whether or not I had assembled my Virginia and DC state income tax returns properly, including the correct schedules, etc. I was particularly concerned about a watermark on the print out of my federal return, which I filed electronically. Exasperated by the lack of appropriate help tools on the H&R Block website, I decided to call them directly. GET THIS: I have a lengthy discussion with a help desk representative who admitted to me she didn't recognize Washington, DC. I decided to try my luck with District of Columbia - which she had never heard of - and miraculously, there it was.

The bottom line: a call center in the Caribbean with employees who one would think, based on their geographical proximity and the nature of the job, would know the states and territories comprising the United States. But, no, this was not the case. Anyhow, H&R Block does not get my stamp of approval.

Death, taxes, visas, and what not...

Okay... so I seem to be on a Ben Franklin kick... As I try to figure out DC and Virginia tax returns, I am reminded of that other famous Franklin quote: "The only things certain in life are death and taxes." Moving overseas, taxes continue to haunt me. The good news is that my federal income tax return has already been filed. Yes, I'm not that behind the eight ball... just somewhat.

But in this surreal world that I find myself in here in the Czech Republic, taxes I would argue have some rhyme or reason behind them. I don't necessarily enjoy reading the fine print, but at least each line has an explanatory note. Recently, my friend Jordana went as far as to share she gets a bit of a high out of doing her taxes. She loves the personal satisfaction she derives in doing them on her own. My response: yeah, whatever. I hate the time it takes. I'd rather put myself through a half-marathon - at least there's beautiful scenery if you've chosen a good race.

In other news, the visa saga continues. I actually found out on Friday that I'm not allowed to exit or reenter the country right now since my passport is missing my Category D and I'm past 90 days. Sometimes I really begin to believe that one day I will wake up and realize my life has been reduced to a character in a Kafka novel. No, I'm not the hunger artist, but perhaps rather something closer to Joseph K in The Trial or Gregor Samsa in Metamorphosis. The long and the short of it is that the new borderless zone in Europe otherwise known as Schengen (i.e., the bane of my existence) has for the time being trapped me and fellow Americans within the borders of this country. Time and consular help will only tell. I still am holding out hope for a positive turn of events on this front.

In the grand scheme of things, I'm sure if I were back in DC, I'd probably be writing about my latest episode with the DC Department of Motor Vehicles - the place I spent 3 or 4 Saturday afternoons last spring and summer. Bureaucracy is everywhere. Don't ever expect to escape it.

My other beef with my current surroundings, however, is that I made an appointment to go to see a rheumatologist, but when I arrived at the doctor was scheduled with a dermatologist. After weeks of joint pain and wanting to get to the bottom of things, I can't even begin to explain how upset I was. And still, despite frustrations in every seeming corner of my life, somehow I feel God wants me right here.

Fish and Visitors... and then Goran Bregovic

According to Ben Franklin, fish and visitors stink after three days. I'd have to disagree with ole Ben. This morning I said goodbye to my sister Karen and her husband Christian after saying farewell to my friend Heather early on Easter Sunday. Suffice it to say that it has been a full house and days of non-stop activity since March 15. While I'm happy to take a breath tonight, I do miss my company!

Although I didn't think I had it in me, I went to a Goran Bregovic concert tonight at the Kongresove Centrum with two friends from work. Bregovic's unique Serbo-Croatian and Balkan folk (and Klezmer) beat set in the Czech Commies' old Palace of Culture at Vysehrad was a real treat. Bregovic and his "Wedding and Funeral Choir" had the crowd dancing in and out of our seats. Interestingly, the encore performance was nearly 1/3 of the entire event. Letting my shoulders and head move with the beat, enjoying every moment, I became all the more enthralled by Southeastern Europe, the troubled past and present, and the passion for life pulsing in the music. If you aren't familiar with Bregovic, I encourage you to have a listen: http://www.myspace.com/goranbrego1

Tips for Karlovy Vary

Despite our prudish American sensitivies, Heather and I just got back from a trip to the famous Czech spa town of Karlovy Vary, where we tried out the local "bath" or "banya" scene. For starters, English will only get you so far - Heather can fill you in on this. I did my best shouting through the bathing compartments to translate -- but adding to Heather's adventure here in the Czech Republic -- she had a few awkward moments with the spa ladies, not knowing quite what and when to do what. If you want to visit Karlovy Vary - also the site of a renown film festival each July - I advise you have some ability to speak Czech, German or Russian. I opted for German, but it was still challenging at times. Or, perhaps, I'm being hard on myself. Rather, it was the staff that was just so darn strange.

Take the waiter on our first night. He seemed to speak English and kindly sat us down. He gave us a menu to select a meal, but fried fish and mashed potatoes soon appeared. I pulled aside the German-speaking waiter and explained we received dishes we didn't order, but oddly received menus to place an order. The AHHA moment finally clicked when I realized he wanted us to order for the next night, but I explained we were there only one night.

The other funny moments came with the "English-speaking" waiter. Heather and I were just sitting around waiting while all these other pensioners came down to their fancy meals and ordered beer and wine. We, on the other hand, had nothing more than the fried fish. It was beginning to feel like an eternity that we sat there at an empty table. I thought for sure there was dessert included so after an appropriate amount of time I asked about dessert and the waiter opened his arms and said, "Yes, dessert is there." Heather and I looked at each other like, "Ah, could you have told us the how many courses and what was included in dinner from the beginning?"

This was just comical since the staff tried to act highly professional and kindly with all the other guests. With us, I think they found us to be odd balls. Maybe if we had some fur or jewels it would have helped. Heather and I were pretty much the Americans in town Sunday and Monday. We were the minority amidst a Russian majority. In fact, it looks like Russians are buying up property left and right. I have a feeling Russian will be lingua franca in town in years to come - or perhaps it already is!

But back to the baths... A lovely blond Czech lady helped us make our appointment and walked us through the treatments. She didn't speak much English and therefore insisted upon speaking German. She smiled profusely which was so nice - not something I'd consider typical Czech. This lady took her customer service profession seriously, which I appreciated. Because of our odd booking: 1 night, Sunday arrival at 4 pm, Monday departure at 3 pm. It presented major issues for us to schedule or massage and mineral bath. This was rather infuriating since we showed up at the office on Sunday night to schedule for Monday morning and spoke to a guy who told us to show up at 8 or 9 am without any problems. That was not the case. So we compromised: 1 pm "pearl" baths followed by 1:30 classical partial massage. Not bad, but we had to pack out of our rooms at 12 so we were dressed in our street clothes and carrying luggage around at the spa - definitely an strange sight for the Czechs, Germans, and Russians. We handled it smoothly for the most part. Other times we simply laughed, and laughed heartily. At one point I heard the masseuse tell Heather to "Sitzen sich." She wasn't quite sure what this meant so I yelled across the curtain for her to sit up. Somehow it worked. I definitely got a kick out of the hotel and spa staff speaking to me in German. I sort of felt I was playing my alter ego Katja.

The end of the story is that we paid 115 euros for two people, full breakfast, dinner or lunch, and 2 spa treatments. I think it was worth it. The staff made our visit more of a linguistic adventure. Fortunately, Heather and I had a good sense of humor through these sometimes incomprehensive situations, including that when Czech spa nurses tell you to take your clothes off, they just stand there and wait for you. For a moment, it truly seems like an altered realty where one's body is just a thing. Privacy is non-existent. You just deal with it.

Right now I'm glad to be back in my comfy pajamas in the comforts of my own home. It was a good bus ride there and back for 240 CZK. Our Hotel Humboldt Spa and Park was more than decent. It was quite nice, but we were never fully understood there in whatever language we attempted. Fortunately we have thick skin and active imaginations so we enjoyed our trip for what its worth - time outside of Prague, sipping mineral waters with loads of Russians, enjoying the beautiful houses of the city, shedding our outer layers, and eating fried fish that we didn't exactly order. I'm sure the flies on the wall were in hysterics. I know thoughts of this trip will bring smiles to my face for quite a while :)

Getting to know my back yard

So, this morning at roughly 8 or 8:30 am my door buzzer rang. After following my detailed instructions from the airport, my friend Heather had finally arrived at my doorstep - and this after an airport bus, metro, and short walk. Woohoo! It was so nice NOT to have to go to the airport at 6 or 7 am. Rather, Heather looked at it as an adventure and was ready and eager to take it on.... hint, hint to future visitors.

Having eaten a proper breakfast and strong coffee, we made our way to Karlstejn (33 km; 45 min away) to see Charles IV's castle and former protectorate of the crown jewels. Although the Tour 2 doesn't open till June, we still enjoyed the rooms viewable on the Tour 1 and were grateful for the beautiful sunshine and castle glimpses to and from Karlstejn. We learned Charles IV was a bit of a philosopher king, with 4 wives, and spoke numberous languages. Good King Wenceslas is one of his ancestors. Wenceslas, a Christian, was murdered by his jealous brother, Boleslav, a pagan who wanted to rule the kingdom. I finally know the story of Saint Catherine who was Charles IV's favorite saint since he won his first battle on her name day. Saint Catherine refused the advances of a pagan King who decided to tie her to two wheels and tear her apart. Miracularly, she survived the wheels, but then succumbed to the sword. These are just a few of the quick facts our guied shared with us AND I actually retained.

Our trip went like clock work, which is always a nice thing. Oh, one more thing, Heather and I had some tasty Czech gulash and dark Kozel pivo before heading back. Beer and Czech food go to together like a marriage made in heaven. I kid you not!

Tomorrow is church in the morning followed by a bus ride (one way under $10; 2 hrs 15 min) to Karlovy Vary - the famous mineral water and spa town. We are spending the night in the 4 star Humboldt Park Hotel and Spa. Yes, we girls are due a little self pampering. We have a double room booked with full breakfast, lunch or dinner, and 3 spa treatments for 115 Euro. I'm looking forward to the sauna and sub-aquatic massage (we'll see what that means!) and perhaps lymphage draining (no idea - sounds a little scary like the modern day use of leaches). Heather is intrigued so maybe we'll be able to let you know. On a serious note, I really hope Karlovy Vary and its mineral waters help heal my ailing joints - hands, wrists, feet, and ankles, in particular.

Karlovy Vary here we come! And if this works out, I just might bring my sister and brother-in-law or at least treat them to a weekend.

PS: Christina: No crystal tiaras scouted yet. We'll keep trying!

Spitzer in Europe

It seems like the most talked about topic on both sides of the Atlantic this week has been the “fall from grace” of New York’s reputed “Sheriff of Wall Street.” Earlier this year my mother – who nearly never strays into the political realm – made some remarks about the now former governor which put Mr. Spitzer on my radar screen. In one of our conversations, mom mentioned, totally unprompted, “Finally, we have someone who actually gets things done in this state.”

Watching the news break on CNN International here in Prague, I was definitely floored. But, I fairly quickly picked my jaw up from off the floor; after all, in today’s age, the bar for what is considered “shocking,” I would say, has hit new heights. Infidelity is nothing new – neither is prostitution, just read the Bible. And, a press conference held by an adulterer with his wife at his side is all too familiar. Yes, seems like this Democratic super delegate has more than one thing in common with Bill and Hillary.

Mr. Spitzer now joins the ranks of other prominent public servants such as former head of the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), Randall Tobias, who resigned in 2007 after being linked to a Washington, DC escort service. While Tobias had a long, distinguished career in the private sector before becoming Director of USAID and was ready for retirement or life at least outside of the public sphere, Spitzer was an ascending star not only in New York but even on the national political scene.

Being an American in Europe, one thing that rings clear is that what might fly on the continent doesn’t in the good ole United States. One of my colleagues succinctly summed up this pretty distinct cultural difference, remarking “What on earth was he thinking? Did he think we were France or something?!” Of course, I had to laugh at Joanna’s comment. She is only too right. The likes of France’s Sarkozy and his vacation trysts with an Italian supermodel, now his third wife, would not be tolerated back home. And, I, for one, am glad for it. Integrity – I’ll say it again – is a precious commodity, but it must remain the mark.

An American in "Schengen"

At this particular moment, I'm not a big fan of the European Union (EU) and the expanded Schengen zone, which took effect on December 21, 2007. What is Schengen? In a nut shell: a series of treaties and rules abolishing physical border controls between EU countries and 3 non-EU states. For citizens of the EU, the new Schengen zone means virtually seamless borders. And, for those of us non-EU, third-country nationals, it means bureaucratic hassles up the wazoo. I AM NOT A HAPPY CAMPER.

Today I spent about 4 hours trying to figure out whether or not I was legally able to exit and reenter the Czech Republic this weekend. As of the beginning of March, I hit 90 days in the CR. Lucky me, I have not quite hit 90 days in the Schengen zone, so I can make my weekend trip to Madrid, where I plan to join my cousin John, his wife Val, and their little daughter Mary, whom I've agreed to babysit. To provide a bit of context, I do not yet possess a long-term visa, although I applied this January in Dresden - the nearest embassy or consular post outside of the CR - according to Schengen legislation. My category D visa, I'm told, is due in early April.

The big shocker of the day was news that I have until March 19 to travel freely within the Schengen zone. From March 19 to April 8 or whenever I get my visa, I should not exit the CR. What really hurts, however, is that my category D is only valid for the CR. Technically, I should apply for short term visas to visit Schengen countries outside the CR. That means if I want to visit Dresden (a mere 2.5 hour train ride) I should get a visa from the German embassy. This is shear madness!

The semi-good news is that once I get my long-term visa, I will then be able to apply for my Czech residency and then for a Schengen visa - and herein lies the clincher - "just like everybody else." Ouch! Yes, we Americans have lived charmed lives in Europe. For many this is the irony of ironies. All these years, we are the ones that have enjoyed the free pass - well, no longer.

I keep telling myself this a bad dream...I really hope I've somehow misread and/or misunderstood consular advice. I should clearly state that the summary above is my personal understanding of the Czech government's current application of the law. That is, don't quote me... I could very well be wrong. That would be great actually. If this truly is my new reality, it would be grand if the lawyers and beaucrats would have a second think...

Expect to hear continued ranting from this side of the Atlantic pond. First it was the dollar plummeting and now this... Americans living abroad in the EU are feeling the squeeze... and it ain't pretty! Looking on the bright side, I'm slowly developing a taste for Czech beer... it no longer costs 50 cents, but it is still cheaper than water.

Better late than never... My big October send off from DC

Hi everyone. Can you believe it. It has been nearly 3 months now since I moved to Prague. That's crazy. When I get a little homesick or a lot, this reminder of friends and family warms my heart. To let you in on a little secret, I can watch this video over and over, endlessly, never failing to shed a tear or two or more!

My thanks to Raymond who spent most of my big bash filming this. Kudos for selecting the perfect song!

Sure miss and love y'all! (Oh, no, I've succumbed to the pressure of trying to sound like a Northern Virginian. But, not such a big deal over here in the Czech Republic. Sometimes Czechs don't even think I sound American?! Go figure. I've been picked out as German or Canadian.)

Epileptic Yogi

I decided to try yoga tonight. For starters, it was in Czech. About the only phrases I picked up were right leg front, left leg front, head to knee. Besides that I was at a loss. To complicate comprehension further, I was in the back of the room next to an air duct, which distorted the instructor's voice something fierce. The icing on the cake though was that I elected not to wear my glasses. I guess you can see where this is going...


Thanks to my sister Stephanie, I'm not a complete dunce when it comes to yoga. Over Christmas one year, I had a private lesson with Steph (who is quite the teacher!), in which she taught me several of yoga's basic movements, for example, the downward facing dog. Without this introduction, tonight I would have otherwise been completely lost.

Sometimes I feel as if I'm caught up in a comedy of errors. Minus my glasses, I did my best to follow my neighbors. But a few times the woman next to me seemed to be looking at me for a clue. Haha. She definitely could use better judgment.


Overall, I have to say I liked our routine tonight; there was a lot of emphasis on balance. Forced to shift your weight to one leg, you rather quickly realize your limits. Standing on one foot or leg or sitting on my bum, fingers holding my toes, all the while attempting to extent my legs outwards - suffice it to say that I'm no pink flamingo. Yeah...piece of cake ... I was like all over that! Ugh, not really. No, instead, there were multiple moments throughout the night where I shook as if I were undergoing a seizure. The only thing missing was foam in the mouth.

On the bright side, everyone seemed pretty into themselves. Despite me feeling kind of self-conscious, when it came down to it, nobody was really paying much attention to me. Once I got over my own inhibitions, I had a few good internal chuckles.


So, wonders never cease: I think I'm going back. I have to get over the fact I'm the least skilled in the class, but we all can't be dynamite. I guess I'll settle for Napoleon Dynamite. I might just have some numchuck skill in me yet.

Sorry, but no pictures to post. Use your imagination.

Say it ain't so...

There are some days when I miss the United States terribly. I think fondly on our wide open expanses, the freedom one feels with the windows down, the radio blaring, hitting 75 or 80 mph on the interstate highway. My stomach still catches an itch or two when pictures of New York City flash on the movie screen or I watch David Tyree make a miraculous catch in the Superbowl. But there are days, when I’m glad to be distant and far away from the American media onslaught.

Having just watched the competing testimonies of Brian McNamee and Roger Clemens before the House oversight committee and after reading the New York Times article, “Clemens says Pettitte was Wrong about H.G.H. Remark,” I’m rather distraught. For the sake of Clemen’s own kids and the millions of children who have grown up idolizing The Rocket, I’d like to think he is speaking the truth, that he has, in fact, been falsely accused. I’m sorry to say that his story just doesn’t add up. I’m not a Yankee fan, but I seem to remember a close bond of friendship between Clemens and Pettitte. They played together as both Yankees and Rangers, sharing plans to retire. Throw into the mix affirmation by Pettitte and that rascally Chuck Knoblaugh that McNamee injected them, and the incident with Clemens and his nanny from seven years ago, and what you have is one royal mess - at least in my humble, across the Atlantic opinion.

The truth often hurts; it can even be outright offensive, but it still remains the truth. Without it, what do we really have - illusion, deception? The game of baseball has been forever tarnished. Our players are no longer viewed as Olympic gods, but as mere men and rightly so. We were wrong in the first place to expect and demand perfection, and they were wrong to succumb to the temptation they could deliver it. We were both sadly mistaken.

Home run records and low ERAs are great stuff, but integrity and honesty are the mark of a real man.

A Little Fresh Air Does the Spirit Good

On Friday afternoon I got a call from my friend and co-conspirator Imelda to see what my Saturday plans were. Fortunately, I had a blank slate in front of me, but not for long. Turns out Saturday morning I joined Imelda and her husband Ondra, Iva (a friend and colleague from the radios), and Mariana (a friend of Imelda and Ondra's) on a trip to Liberec and for a hike up to Jested peak - some 1012 meters above sea level. Despite a few initial glitches - my metro shutting down because someone jumped in front of a train and Ondra forgeting his hiking boots - the day was spectacular or what I and Mary Poppins like to call supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. I didn't quite know what we had in front of us. I thought knowing Ondra and Imelda we'd probably do a hike with some amount of physical exertion. Let me tell you we took on one heck of an incline! Whoa. We decided early on against following the asphalt road. No, we were determined to climb right up through snow, rocks and boulders, and that is exactly what we did.

To be honest, I think Saturday was the longest period of time that I've spent in the great out doors in quite some time. Boy, was this trip ever needed! My lungs felt as if they were given new life. I seriously had a high breathing in the fresh mountain air and exercising just about every muscle in my lower limbs. When I first heard we were headed to a tower, I had my doubts. Prague has a very distinct TV tower that dominates the sky above Vinohrady, where I happen to to live. It's not exactly my cup of tea: the structure is quite bold - a cold metallic structure save for several sculptures of crawling babies some artist added several years back. I'm not very big on the Communists' love of putting ugly harsh structures in historic parts of town or worse in the middle of mother nature. However, I was surprised when we entered Liberec and I viewed Jested from down below. I found it to be a majestic addition to the mountain view. Jested tower and hotel, which was built in the later part of the 60s, actually had some architectural charm and oddly pleasant Communist decor. I felt as if I were in a James Bond movie as we sat in the hotel's panoramic restaurant eating soup and drinking pudding-like hot chocolate. The absolute coolest thing was watching hang- or para-gliders float around in the ether just outside of the window by our table. After our nice break inside, getting warm and nourished, we decided once again for the road less travelled. We basically walked down a closed ski slope. There were signs notifying us of high risk areas and great potential of accidents, but we proceded down the hill as if blind. It would have been much nicer to have skis, but I took this as a challenge. My legs are strong like a bull, so I managed the steep descent with aplomb. At one point I opted for my buttocks to carry me down part of the slope. It was quite the trip and caused only minimal wetness to my jeans. Our downward journey was a race against darkness, which fully engulfed us at the bottom of the mountain.

Before we started yet another mini-adventure to find the car, we stopped along the way at the ski jumping center. It was just our luck that an international ski jumping event was taking place. Remember Eddie the Eagle from the UK back in Nagano or was it Salt Lake City? I can't remember. It doesn't matter - I'm a new fan of the sport. I mean - You will never ever find me strapping on two skis, sitting on a bench at the top of monstrously steep hill, only to ski down the hill, picking up momentum and then flying into the air, finishing this crazy feat with a two-ski landing. For me, watching something so beyond me is a huge adrenalin rush. I could have stood there all night watching the jumpers. I think I lost my breath each time a jumper took to air - it was just that darn cool. Okay - I think I've used "cool" one too many times. I'm just lost for words trying to describe my great wonder and joy experiencing Jested on Saturday afternoon. It was the simply the best!

Giving credit where credit is due

Well, I really have to give it to those Giants. They really pulled it off, making the seemingly impossible possible. Instead of NPR on my alarm clock, I wake up to the BBC World Service in the morning. The past couple of weeks have been a doozy. Let's see, a week or two back around MLK, Jr. day, it was headlines about the market crash in Asia and Europe. Then it was the American market. Last week it was Heath Ledger's death. But, this morning it was news about the Giant's pulling off the biggest upset of all time. Man, the Giants made it on the BBC! This was news! And, finally something to get up for. I literally jumped out of bed and went to turn on CNN International. I just had to see footage. It was all the more fantastical since I made the fateful decision to turn the TV off at 3:45 or 3:50 am... I can't remember now. Only after the fact did I realize that I missed the most exciting part of the game. Boy, was I disappointed this morning, kicking myself in the butt - if I could! Cut me some slack though... I was watching in the wee hours of the morning, knowing I had bloodwork at 9 am and then a full day of work.

Sports are great. Granted, football is still a funny game to me with large burly men running around the field trying to sack a skinny guy with the ball, but a good game is simply a good game. There's something about these underdog stories that lifts the soul, puts a spring in our step. Because gosh darn it, if Eli Manning can do it, so can I! That's how I went to work this morning - don't know about you?!

So I watched a good chunk of game at work in our cafeteria. We actually watched it via the Armed Forces Network (AFN). Disappointingly there were no U.S. commercials; rather we sat through ads for the "Edelweis Ski Lodge" in Garmisch for U.S. service personnel and short celebrity athlete shout outs to the troops. Oh, and there were some weird ads for defense contractors and who knows what else. I've never quite been so inundated save for when I submitted to an army physical when I was considering becoming a cryptolinguist.

On a side note, I failed my army physical on account of taking acne medicine. In a strange way, I thank God for pimples - that decision was taken out of my hands. I must admit, however, that I scored 100% on the hearing test. I was flabbergasted when I came out of the sound-proof chamber and the doctor patted me on the back. All these years I complained to my mom that I just never heard her. She would accuse me of selective hearing and I would refute her based on my many hours and days logged in the highschool swimming pool. You know... chlorine gets to you. Well, that whole theory had the plug pulled.

I turned out to be one of the only girls at our Super Bowl event. There was Lucie from HR that dropped by with a few other Czech colleagues, but I lasted the majority of the game - minus the last 20 minutes or so. It was just fine. I need to thank my brother Mark for preparing me to handle the male world. I still vividly remember being roughed up on our basketball court by Mark. I told him to give me a break, but he refused and said it would do me well. And, he was right. But, I would be remiss if I did not tell you my male colleagues were perfect gentlemen. We just enjoyed the game, eating microwave popcorn bag after bag and topping off my tupperware-filled with brownies. Oh, and yes, there was Czech beer - naturally.

Since I missed the best part of last night's game and I need some more spring in my step tomorrow morning, I've got to end here and go watch a rebroadcast of the game on German TV.

Uncle Rahn, Tyler, Aunt Pat, Alexis - be proud of your Giants! I am!

If you own a dog and walk the streets, use those bags!

I guess I'll continue my ranting about things that have been getting on my nerves recently. The last few days I've noticed side walks have become minefields with dog doodoo. If you aren't careful, you'll be trekking around town with poo on your soles. What's up with Prague dog owners? Do they have no shame? All those posts with doggie bags have a purpose. So, use them. It's a simple common courtesy people.

The State of the Union comes on at 3 am here. Too bad, but I don't think I have that kind of stamina. On the other hand, this afternoon I rsvp-d for a superbowl party on Sunday. I can't believe the Giants actually made it. I think I was in highschool the last time they played in the superbowl. The thing is that it starts at midnight and will probably go through 4 am. I even volunteered to bring chocolate chip cookies or brownies. We all have choices to make. I just hope it's a good game.

You know you're not in Kansas anymore...

When you get off the metro at Mustek on Wenceslas Square in Prague and find a guy sitting on the steps with his right leg jean-pant pulled up exposing his hairy skin and a needle in one hand. Perhaps I've lived a sheltered existence in the United States, but I've never seen anyone shoot up with heroine until tonight. And, the thing that really bothers me is that I keep sensing drug deals at certain street corners and I've arrived either right before or right after a few young people on the street were shooting up. Seems to me this is getting out of hand. I'm one of the most naive people around and I'm on to it. It bugs the heck out of me that drugs are so prevalent and it doesn't seem like anyone is doing anything about it. I definitely wish the local government were a bit more hands on with some of these social issues. The only thing I've seen happen since I arrived is that it is now illegal for prostitutes to frequent certain areas of town. It's all about baby steps - I guess.

What else is new? I'm almost certain my fate is to end up like Dana Reeves: non-smoker contracting lung cancer. The no smoking ban has not yet reached this area of Europe and I'm finding the second hand smoke a major challenge to deal with. In fact, I feel like my throat is coated with soot. Yes, I'm in quite the mood.

So tonight I went to my first Czech hockey game in the new Sazka arena, which was built to host the 2004 World Championship. I saw Praha Slavia take on Pardubice (another Czech town). Slavia won 5-2. It was pretty cool overall. The Czechs have a great sense of humor. Throughout the game there were funny moments with the jumbotron in the ceiling. The guy manning the camera would pick out people in the audience, use their face and put a cartoon body (e.g., a body builder) over the rest. Sometimes he used the face of a famous person (e.g., Gorbachev or Pamela Anderson) and superimposed it over a person in the stands. Then they had a "Kiss Me" screen. The camera guy again found some entertaining couples to put on the jumbotron screen and 9 out 10 smooched. One couple included a small boy and girl probably no more than 10. They were cute! Oh, least I forget, there of course is some sensual element of sports. Every period 4 women in sports bras and tiny shorts skated onto the rink to clean up the ice near the goal. Why do scantly clad women show up everywhere in sports? Please tell me... I don't need to see them. I just don't get it.

As for the hockey, according to a resident expert sitting next to me, Jim, a Czech emigre from Edminton, the players skated well, but their play was a bit boring. I enjoyed it just the same. Oh, and of course, there was the FC Slavia fans sitting in the section to our immediate left. They made the evening all the more entertaining with their drum and chants.

Well, that's it for now folks. I'm trying to get to bed earlier. Tonight could be a new beginning. We shall see.

Oh, this is a picture of my street corner. If you haven't heard. I live on Polska street (Polish street). No polish jokes accepted!

Auld Lang Syne

Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot and days of auld lang syne? For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne, we'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne. Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot and days of auld lang syne? And here's a hand, my trusty friend And gie's a hand o' thine We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet For auld lang syne --

So what do these verses mean? I'm sure you wonder every New Year's Eve. I always have... From what my Google search turned up, one definitition is "times gone by." It is an old Scottish tune from the 1700s, whose transcription from Robert Burns gained it notariety.

Time definitely passes swiftly. Who knew that December 21, 2006, I'd be leaving Prague for Arlington, VA, and that December 3, 2007, I'd be leaving Washington, DC, for Prague.

I just got in from a crazy night of unregulated fireworks. Let me tell you. Living overseas definitely helps one develop a appreciation for certain aspects of home. One at the top of my list is regulated fireworks. Fire and humans are a scary mix! In Prague, if you happen to be out on the streets on Sylwestr as they call it here, you darn well better be alert. I nearly had my legs taken out by a wandering firecracker skimming the asphalt surface at the park I chose for my view of the city fireworks. Imagine if you will fireworks going off all over the city on behalf of the municipality and simultaneously locals shooting off their own fireworks and smashing bottles of empty alcohol. Add to this picture, young parents and inebriated adults teaching their even younger children and friends how to light firecrackers. All I can say that tonight was successful. No one in our party of 10 or so people was injured. I don't care if you call me an old fart. I like my hands, all my fingers, both feet, and all my toes. I also cherish my eyes and the sight they provide.

Tonight was a blessing. I had dinner for 5 or six friends, mainly new friends from church and work. I cooked up a new recipe of chicken apple curry, broccoli with garlic, salad with the best balsamic vinegar dressing I've made yet, and blue cheese and lekvar (plum marmelade) on sunflower seed bread. Oh, and I made my best yet chocolate chip cookies. I think perhaps I've saved the image of American cuisine. Rest assured... with me feeding foreign masses overseas, people are gradually coming to realize we Americans appreciate a good meal AND I'm not talking about McDonalds.

I had a ball cooking. I streamed NPR and caught a number of good shows, including "Wait, wait, don't tell me" with Chris Palmer, Valerie Plame, Michael Moore, and the NPR Baghdad correspondent, as well as "Talk of the Nation" which focused on a book called "Intern" or something like that. It is about an Indian-American doctor now working in a NYC teaching hospital and his reflections on his years as a medical student and resident coming through the system. Being a big sister of a Duke medical student, I was all ears. Modern technology definitely makes it a whole lot easier to be outside one's normal comfort zone.

It was a strange mix of old and new in my kitchen tonight: the familiar, exhilarating smell of freshly chopped garlic, the deep melodic voice of Carl Kasell, yellow-orange curry, authentic French blue cheese, and povidle (Austrian Ger)/povidla(Czech)/lekvar (Slovak) (i.e., plum jam) on toast. Everything went off quite well, despite my mistaking "Parizska Slehacka" for creme fraiche. To be honest, I still don't know what Parizska Slehacka is. I thought I couldn't go wrong buying something that literally means Paris creme. Unfortunately, as I was about to pour it into my curry, I realized it was brown and chocolate flavored. Even with this little mishap, the food was more than edible - it was tasty and I'm more than satisfied.

Ringing in the new year with several new acquaintances I've known less than a few weeks was interesting. We had a merry group of Americans, Indonesians, Malaysians, Thai, Czech and Indian. It was great fun to build on friendships I started a year ago, too. Of course, at various moments of the night my thoughts were on yester years singing all the lyrics to Auld Lang Syne (it will take you like 10 full minutes!), making fondue, playing electronic catch phrase, and Jordana impersonating Anna Nicole Smith. Oh, and how can I forget passing around the "exercise ball." To my Calvert gang friends if you are reading - no one will replace you.

I'll continue to think of those happy times as I set out to create new memories. Old habits die hard - and some, well, they never quite die. And now, I'll always remember nearly getting my legs burned off by a passing firecracker on the eve of 2008, Imelda sporting her cute knit hat, Charlie an American attorney from Kansas with a passion to fight sex trafficking -- sporting a white button down with a black vest and jeans -- who received a new year's eve note from a neighbor asking if he knows Johnny Cash, eating Indonesian pandan-flavored cake (and suddenly remembering pandan is a flavor common to the Philippines), and trying to explain who on earth Valerie Plame is to several Malay and Indonesian friends. That is just a few of tonight's afterthoughts.

I spoke to my friend Fal on Sunday and she encouraged me to put exactly how I feel here. So, here it is: missing you all dearly.

Happy New Year, my friends! I look forward to the stories and adventures that will enfold in 2008.