Sunday, April 26, 2009


I hope that's spelled correctly. Otherwise someone might correct me, until it's corrected. YESTERDAY! I experienced a bit of Germany. It was grand. I've been meaning to do so, and now I have done so.

I went with two girls in the ward. Their names are Marie and Andrea. They are both here while their husbands are deployed and they are in a similar age bracket to mine. Marie is more of a talker than Andrea, but we three had some great talks in the car.

First we drove to Rothenburg. It's the only intact medieval city in the world...or something like that. I was told to go into the Christmas stores and to try a snowball. Apparently that area of Germany is the only place they make snowballs. Firstly, snowballs are not as delicious as they sound, that's why they aren't made anywhere else. They were in every treat shop and make their sales based on the fact it's the only place they're made. They look like pie dough extras molded into balls. They were covered in powdered sugar, cinnamin, chocolate, or pecan bark. 

Marie got a chocolate covered ball, I got a powdered sugar ball. I didn't know what type to get and Danielle told me they're gross, but I had to try one. So I asked the girl who worked there and she got this look on her face. I said, "Yeah, you probably don't eat them often because they're gross. I've heard they're gross." She said she probably ate the powdered sugar kind the most often because it was the traditional kind. Hah, I know she doesn't eat them. They taste like cardboard. Sick.

I ate mine, very dry. This creepy 45 yr old man asked us where we were from in the store. I didn't want to be labeled a rude American, so I said Missouri. He said that was a hot place, I said, "Yes, in summer." He also advised me to not eat the powdered sugar roll in the street b/c I'd make a mess all over my shirt. He knows me.

We walked up the street, the girls went into a store, I ate my snowball. The man passed me...he saw me. AGH. Then he asked me how it was and if I needed to wash it down with some coffee. I said no thanks and waved him away. HE ASKED ME FOR COFFEE. That man was not in my range. My range is 16-40. He was definitely not in there.

Then I went through the torture museum. It was grand. Don't get me wrong, I think torture is a sick practice. However, they had plenty of masks and humiliation devices for the street. You know, for gossips and such. They have masks with big ears and huge tongues.  I thought that was interesting. I am a talked and would have to wear such a mask I think, so I related to those masks. 

The other girls had already been through with their husbands, apparently boys like that stuff more than girls. Oops. I ended up walking through in about an hour and we walked through the city afterwards. It has cobblestones and cute houses. It has narrow streets and reminded me of Estonia. I loved Estonia. There's a castle there though, we walked around on the wall in Rothenburg. It made me feel happy b/c of my Estonia memories.

Then we drove to two smaller cities south of there. They had similar cobblestones and buildings and had young men wandering all over the city. It was grand. Many of them stared as we walked past and this crazy looking guy waved at us. Every terribly confident guy I want to say is Italian, b/c that's what I heard about the Italian guys. Plus, I don't speak Italian or German, so I wouldn't know.

After we got back, I walked Prince around the downtown base.. and it was deserted. Ridiculous. The end. 

Sunday, April 19, 2009


I only brought two sets of shoes to Europe. I have some red Nike shocks and some brown hiking sandals. Do you remember the 90's when it was ok to wear those to church? Well, the 90's are back baby, and my sandals at church proved it. Danielle says that's skanky.

Does anyone else know what skanky is supposed to mean? It's supposed to mean hoochy.  You know, loose. I don't think sandals to church makes a person look loose. Heck, I wouldn't want to get to know a man who wore socks with his sandals. Much less be tempted by his obvious availability in the dating world. Anyhow, Danielle says skanky means white trash. 

The definition of skanky was brought out the day we went to church in Holland and I wore a patterned sweater with a differently patterned skirt. My sweater is grey, red, and black; my skirt teal and black. I guess that is one definition of skanky. I would have said the outfit was tacky...but not skanky. Point of this conversation: I need to get me some church shoes.

Some sexy church shoes. So all the women can rest their cares about me being skanky in the trailer park sense and raise myself to skanky in the loose sense. Hah. Didn't seem to matter to the friendly English man in the Holland ward. I keep saying Holland b/c I'm not sure what city in Holland we were in for church.  He was age 45ish and I'm almost positive he hit on me. 

Now don't get me wrong, I don't want you to think badly on this man, but here's what happened.  He put out his hand and said, "Hello, I'm Kale." Then he gave me the look. You know the look and he gave it to me. 

He had two little girls and a wedding ring. Where was his wife? I don't know, maybe she was sick. Maybe he was newly remarried and hadn't erased the look from his memories. Maybe he's still trying to get off the hunt? He had an English accent and gave me the look. I was lost. Doesn't matter, I'll never see him again. Thank goodness. Someone please tell the man his friendly face looks awfully close to the tiger looks I've seen. Weirdly enough, I'm starting to fall for the older man tiger looks and it's sicking me out. Where can I get an accented man my age with that familiar tiger look? Europe of course. Why do you think I am here?

Speaking of that, a guy in Amsterdam saw me from his window and checked me out fully for 5 minutes while I passed...a long time. Then, I left his line of vision and all love hopes got lost. Kidding, he probably didn't speak English.

Last of the man stories, church. I've been excited for church because I heard there are: a 19 yr old and a crazy italian my age that are male. Perfect. I could not wait. Turns out the 19 yr old is closer to 16 yrs old, and the italian is inactive. Crap. Well, I suppose I can get friendly with the jail bait. Please promise you'll send me letters in jail.

The ward is actually half english, half german. It makes church hard to pay attention to. There is a person talking and the interpreter stands next to them, interpreting. That and all the little fussers. You know, the cereal scatterings and tantrums and giggling that goes on. It's fantastic.

The 1st counselor in the bishopric gave the Sunday school message. His name is Brother Bacon. Yeah, breakfast meat. However, he is going bald and reminds me of my brother-in-law Greg. There are three reasons for this: he looks similar to Greg, he's hilarious, and he went on his mission to Italy. Our class is made more entertaining by the fact the interpreter thinks Brother Bacon is hilarious; he sometimes has trouble translating because he's laughing too hard.

Relief Society was grand. The teacher is a German lady who's really nice. I don't remember her name, but her son is the 16 yr old I was checking out. Danielle was the one who told me he was 19 in the first place, so it's her fault.  I don't know if he speaks English though. I was trying to figure out if I should be cultivating a friendship with him since he's so young.

So much for boy options. On the American front I did get to instant messaging with my color festival visitor Ryan. I actually met him in Alaska my first year. He is a hoot. I've gotten him to check on my blog every once in a while and was tickled he's been mentioned on here three times. We were on facebook conversing for about 3 hours on Friday. It was like 1 am for me and 3 pm for him? I think it's an 8 hr difference.

We talked about many things. I've always been drawn to tattoos because of the bad boy complex. He's always been drawn to tattoos also. We traded tat dreams. We would never get one, but if we did, I would get a tramp stamp and he would get a star on his wrist. A cool star, that he could hide with his watch. Guess Danielle was right about me. The later it got, the more random our conversation topics. As you see.

I've been going to bed at 10 pm every night, so I was exhausted, but it was great to converse with a boy my own age. You know, since all the boys here are in hiding. They don't want to get drawn in by my magnetism.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009


We took a Holland trip this weekend. My cousins the Mouritsens are great planners. Their names are Danielle and Mike; children: Ben, Zach, Chris. We had some good times.

The first night we drove two hours to a hotel on an army base. The next day we drove past a bunch of castles and visited two on the way to our Holland hotel. It was awesome. 

The first castle had been torn down and rebuilt. It was called Burg Reinfels. We hiked up to it, paid the family fee, and explored all the ins and outs. Tunnels abounded, dark passageways, maps showing us how to get to the ramparts were helpful. They also charted out different defenses the indoor city held. It was huge.

On the way back through the little city, we ate lunch. I tried some meat with orange sauce. I forget what it was called, but while cutting it with a butter knife, I splattered orange sauce all over my white shirt. I didn't have any bleach with me, but the waitresses let me use some hot water and a towel to try and get the worst off. I've since washed it and it may be ruined forever. I'll let you know after the second wash. Except I already dried it, so my shirt's probably stained for life. Dumb, because I just bought it.

Then we passed a couple other castles and ended up at Burg Eltz. It's a magical castle from afar and still owned by the Eltz family. From what we learned, the castle has never been attacked, so it's in great condition. Danielle mentioned that meant they were probably traitors. True. The furnishings etc were still in the house. No pictures in the castle, but the flower displays inside were amazing. Apparently Grandma Eltz is 89 and goes into town to handpick the flowers as needed. Very cool.

The weather on our trip was mighty fine. Just like the sort of spring I hoped for. We got to Holland that night and slept in our comfortable Days Inn beds until the next morning, where we ate the buffet breakfast. 

There were many available cheeses, breads, and fruits. I took advantage and wasn't hungry for the rest of the day. Amsterdam held my dreams for the day. We almost missed the bus, took the train into Amsterdam, and walked around all day. We heard there wasn't any parking, so we took the train in for that reason. It was only about half an hour away.

We took a canal ride, saw Anne Frank's house, and toured the Rijks Museum. Then Danielle and I ate delicious waffles and took the train to our hotel. While waiting in line to see Anne Frank's house, we looked for toilets. All we saw were public areas for men. So yeah, the bathroom inside was glorious, but the line took about 1.5 hours to walk through. The boys left after that, so Danielle and I saw the museum. It had a bunch of Rembrandts and Dutch art in it. 

The next day was Easter. We toured the replicas of every major city in  Holland, at a place I can't remember the name of. This was the place a man turned around asking Danielle and I where we were from. 

She said Texas and he nodded. I said Missouri and he laughed. She asked what was so funny and he said Missouri is where all the geeks live. Then he turned around and left. Poo to that. I wonder where he heard that. It was chilly that day. Maybe the wind told him.

We ate the Easter dinner and the snobby waiter asked us about drinks. We didn't find out until later the drinks were not included in the price of the buffet. Oops. It was a delicious Easter dinner though, and we tried to sample all the little things. Despite our excessive eating, we still swam an hour later.

Monday we visited the Keukenhof. It was a very flowery place and quite enjoyable. Then we drove home. Not much happened that was terribly eventful except: Ben, the 9 yr old,  forgot his shoes. They'd had the boys put on their pajamas Thursday night when we left, so he didn't wear any in the car. So we had to buy him some the next day. He didn't realize he needed them until we were 3 hours away. 

Ben also dropped his waffle at the Keukenhof on the ground and ate it with dirt on the top. Me being called a geek. Me getting orange crud all over my shirt. I think that's all. Overall, it was a fantastic trip to Holland for Easter.

Friday, April 3, 2009


Here I am in Bamburg, Germany. It's been a couple days and I still feel some jet lag hiding behind my eyes. It's ok though, because I'm sure it will end soon. It's Friday today, the weather is fantastic, and man is it cute here.

I've been staying on an army base with my cousins and we've driven outside a couple times. Yesterday I found out how to get train and bus tickets. I'll have to plan out some trips. My cousin Mike is supposed to be getting back from Iraq tomorrow and we might be going to Holland. That would depend on whether he gets permission or not.

Holland would be rad though. Besides that, I don't have much news. I miss my roomies, but besides that I'm good. I'll find adventures, don't you worry.