Well, that's the last time I do any impulse buying in the frozen meat section.
While grocery shopping last week, I couldn't be bothered to take time to decipher the description printed on the front of a box of what I thought were frozen chicken breasts. I tossed the box into my shopping bag and went on my merry way, coming home with the chicken, and about eight billion condiments. I have developed this strange habit lately of going into the store intending to buy, you know, real food, and coming out with nothing but condiments. I have more gourmet mustard, salad dressing, dipping sauces, etc. than anyone could ever ask for. Do I have anything to apply said sauces to? Nope. Nothing.
Thus my feeling of accomplishment when I bought an entire BOX of chicken. I could dunk and slather to my heart's content.
Well. It would seem reading the front of a box of frozen meat is a highly advisable thing to do. Imagine my shock and dismay when I opened the box of chicken breasts to find an extremely strange looking array of parts. Yes, it was an entire chicken, butchered in possibly the weirdest manner I could ever have imagined. There were two pieces that looked very claw-like...I've had trouble banishing the image from my mind. I was kind of at a loss as to what to do with this pan of chicken...it was a WHOLE chicken, and thus full of meat. But it looked absolutely diiiiiiisgusting. 100% unappetizing. And this is coming from someone who will eat just about anything. Or, at least try just about anything. I cite the gumball incident junior year of high school as a reference. (Krystyn, this citation is obviously for your own personal enjoyment.)
Well, I ended up half-heartedly sliding it into the oven, hoping that maybe it would improve with heat. Of course I then proceeded to start a craft project and completely forget that I had something cooking. I didn't remember until I went into the kitchen to get some orange juice and sniffed the air thinking "What is that strange sme- oh shit!" So I ended up with chicken...jerky. Which is even grosser than what I started with. It's currently swaddled in foil, taking up room in my teeny tiny refrigerator. I'm unsure what to do with it.
Priamary moral of the story: read the fucking label.
Tertiary moral of the story: memorize the German words for "entire" and "carcass." Avoid anything in the future that includes these two words.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Run for the Border
That used to be Taco Bell's slogan, and then they had to get a new one. I don't know why, it's not like that's at all offensive to anyone....
The only reason I bring this up (aside from the fact that I often long for any kind of Mexican food in this country of nothing but sausage and potatoes), is because yesterday I did some running for the border myself. Dresden is situated at the eastern edge of Germany, pretty much equidistant from the Czech and Polish borders. I am a fan of this location, and I'll tell you why. Because the novelty of being able to hop on a train, spend a pleasant one to two hours staring out the window at idyllic landscape, and then hop off in another country, never gets old. I hesitate to leave the previous sentence in it's present form, as I don't think it is grammatically correct. But I don't really feel like going back and fixing it, so I'll just have to let my grammar neurosis simmer for now. So, my current geographical location looks something like this:
I live in Dresden, one of those red dots.
The only reason I bring this up (aside from the fact that I often long for any kind of Mexican food in this country of nothing but sausage and potatoes), is because yesterday I did some running for the border myself. Dresden is situated at the eastern edge of Germany, pretty much equidistant from the Czech and Polish borders. I am a fan of this location, and I'll tell you why. Because the novelty of being able to hop on a train, spend a pleasant one to two hours staring out the window at idyllic landscape, and then hop off in another country, never gets old. I hesitate to leave the previous sentence in it's present form, as I don't think it is grammatically correct. But I don't really feel like going back and fixing it, so I'll just have to let my grammar neurosis simmer for now. So, my current geographical location looks something like this:
I live in Dresden, one of those red dots.As you can see, it's quite easterly. Yes, that is a word! Do not dispute me. An interesting observation that comes to me while viewing this map is that Berlin is really almost a straight line north, but is considered to be part of WESTERN Germany. Yes, the whole country has been unified for twenty years now, and everyone is one big, happy, beer swilling and sausage eating family. But people here still make comments all the time about those "westerners." Light hearted (and e-blogger can suck a big one for underlining that word in red and telling me it's incorrect, because I KNOW IT IS. Stupid machines trying to take over the world) comments to be sure, usually made as a joke. But there still seems to be a bit of cultural differences between the western and eastern parts of the country. Anyone who is actually German, or actually more knowledgeable than me on the subject of German reunification (so really, a lot of people) please take my remarks as the ramblings of a young American woman living in Germany, who really gets a kick out of over analyzing things and psycho-analyzing people and what they say. Nothing more.
Ok, ok, I am getting to the point. Not that any of the "points" I make on this thing are all that interesting or newsworthy. Yesterday, a couple of pals and I got on the train in the morning, and an hour later, voila! We were in Poland. Well, technically, we were still in Germany. The town we arrived in is a town on the very edge of the German/Polish border. Through the years, it's gone back and forth between being officially German and officially Polish. At least, I think that's what I read in the guide book. Like I said, I'm no expert. After World War 2 though, when countries were being hacked up and doled out like a Thanksgiving turkey (nice metaphor, I know), the mucky mucks in charge of the hacking decided that a great solution would be to just split this town down the middle, since it was right on the border. There is a small, sluggish river that flows through the middle of it, and this became the border between the two countries- effectively dividing one city between two countries. It's definitely a unique experience to take a two minute stroll across a bridge, and suddenly be in another country. All the street signs go from German to Polish, the food goes from German to Polish, the people suddenly sprechen more Polnish than Deutsch, wocka wocka wocka. You get the point.
The really stunning thing was the difference in upkeep on the two banks of the river. The German side was filled with well preserved ancient buildings, and was clean and orderly. Typical Germany. Well, the clean and orderly part, that is. The Polish side was...well, as my Polish traveling companion put it "a real shit town." Her words, not mine. I've got nothing against Poland...I happen to quite like the place. I don't know what this says about politics or anything, I just thought it was extremely interesting to see that juxtaposition.
Aside from the whole division of countries part, the town of Goerlitz (it's supposed to have an umlaut over the 'o' but I don't know how to make my non-German keyboard do that) has a few other things going for it. It's one of the very few places in the eastern part of Germany- no, scratch that, Germany as a whole- that wasn't totally decimated during the war. A lot of the cities have done a ton of rebuilding, and so it looks like all the cathedrals and palaces miraculously survived the bombings, no problem. Dresden is probably the grandaddy of all these places, because the whole place was levelled, and in the past ten years or so they've rebuilt a lot of the major architectural landmarks. If I didn't know better, I would assume the buildings had just aged really well.
But, I digress! Goerlitz happens to be a survivor of all this. There are buildings there that date back to 1230. It was a very enjoyable place to stroll around in, and imagine all the people who had gone in and out of those buildings for centuries. I love to think of what places would have been like in another time, and so my imagination really runs a muck in places like that, where all I have to do is zap passerby into 14th century garb and call it good. No modern buildings to banish, and I don't have to ferret out which buildings are really ancient and which ones are impostors.
All in all, a lovely place for a huge nerd like myself. Also, feasting on cheap and deep fried Polish perogis (I can neither confirm nor deny if that word is spelled correctly) wasn't half bad either.
In addition to aaaaall of this, yesterday was one of the most beautiful days we've had round' these parts in months. Sunshine, blue skies, lambs frolicking through green meadows. The part about the lambs might be me taking creative license....but you'll never know, will you?
I wish I was more adept at sprinkling photos throughout my blog post, but I seem to have trouble with that sort of thing. So below you shall find some pictures of this well preserved half German/half Polish town.
Ok, ok, I am getting to the point. Not that any of the "points" I make on this thing are all that interesting or newsworthy. Yesterday, a couple of pals and I got on the train in the morning, and an hour later, voila! We were in Poland. Well, technically, we were still in Germany. The town we arrived in is a town on the very edge of the German/Polish border. Through the years, it's gone back and forth between being officially German and officially Polish. At least, I think that's what I read in the guide book. Like I said, I'm no expert. After World War 2 though, when countries were being hacked up and doled out like a Thanksgiving turkey (nice metaphor, I know), the mucky mucks in charge of the hacking decided that a great solution would be to just split this town down the middle, since it was right on the border. There is a small, sluggish river that flows through the middle of it, and this became the border between the two countries- effectively dividing one city between two countries. It's definitely a unique experience to take a two minute stroll across a bridge, and suddenly be in another country. All the street signs go from German to Polish, the food goes from German to Polish, the people suddenly sprechen more Polnish than Deutsch, wocka wocka wocka. You get the point.
The really stunning thing was the difference in upkeep on the two banks of the river. The German side was filled with well preserved ancient buildings, and was clean and orderly. Typical Germany. Well, the clean and orderly part, that is. The Polish side was...well, as my Polish traveling companion put it "a real shit town." Her words, not mine. I've got nothing against Poland...I happen to quite like the place. I don't know what this says about politics or anything, I just thought it was extremely interesting to see that juxtaposition.
Aside from the whole division of countries part, the town of Goerlitz (it's supposed to have an umlaut over the 'o' but I don't know how to make my non-German keyboard do that) has a few other things going for it. It's one of the very few places in the eastern part of Germany- no, scratch that, Germany as a whole- that wasn't totally decimated during the war. A lot of the cities have done a ton of rebuilding, and so it looks like all the cathedrals and palaces miraculously survived the bombings, no problem. Dresden is probably the grandaddy of all these places, because the whole place was levelled, and in the past ten years or so they've rebuilt a lot of the major architectural landmarks. If I didn't know better, I would assume the buildings had just aged really well.
But, I digress! Goerlitz happens to be a survivor of all this. There are buildings there that date back to 1230. It was a very enjoyable place to stroll around in, and imagine all the people who had gone in and out of those buildings for centuries. I love to think of what places would have been like in another time, and so my imagination really runs a muck in places like that, where all I have to do is zap passerby into 14th century garb and call it good. No modern buildings to banish, and I don't have to ferret out which buildings are really ancient and which ones are impostors.
All in all, a lovely place for a huge nerd like myself. Also, feasting on cheap and deep fried Polish perogis (I can neither confirm nor deny if that word is spelled correctly) wasn't half bad either.
In addition to aaaaall of this, yesterday was one of the most beautiful days we've had round' these parts in months. Sunshine, blue skies, lambs frolicking through green meadows. The part about the lambs might be me taking creative license....but you'll never know, will you?
I wish I was more adept at sprinkling photos throughout my blog post, but I seem to have trouble with that sort of thing. So below you shall find some pictures of this well preserved half German/half Polish town.
Some 16th century buildings.
Cross that bridge, and you're in Poland.
That's the wave I use to address the commoners, who gather below my dais.
I seem to have serious layout issues. Eh well, we can't all be masters at everything we attempt to do, I suppose. Enjoy the photos, they were taken by my friend Lyn. I hope she doesn't sue me for breach of copyright...shit.
That's about all folks- I have a broom and a bottle of all purpose cleaner calling my name. Oh, and no updates on the theft situation yet. I am awaiting response from the bank, after having faxed a righteously indignant letter their way, explaining my current situation of financial distress. I hope they call me tomorrow....if they don't, I'll have to start calling people and annoying them until they give me my money back.
If only my Papa were here, the chant in an especially loud and obnoxious voice "QUACK QUACK QUACK, QUACK QUACK QUACK, WHEN DO I GET MY MONEY BACK!?"
He's really a pro, and has yelled it at us, his grandchildren, at really inappropriate moments for as far back as I can remember. I might have to get a long distance conference call going if things don't sort themselves out soon.
Oh, and I am down to THREE girls in my class. This has increased the number of times in a day when I ask myself if those vitamins I take each morning might actually be CRAZY PILLS in diguise, from once or twice to approximately 1,234. Good thing I love those little gremlins.
That's about all folks- I have a broom and a bottle of all purpose cleaner calling my name. Oh, and no updates on the theft situation yet. I am awaiting response from the bank, after having faxed a righteously indignant letter their way, explaining my current situation of financial distress. I hope they call me tomorrow....if they don't, I'll have to start calling people and annoying them until they give me my money back.
If only my Papa were here, the chant in an especially loud and obnoxious voice "QUACK QUACK QUACK, QUACK QUACK QUACK, WHEN DO I GET MY MONEY BACK!?"
He's really a pro, and has yelled it at us, his grandchildren, at really inappropriate moments for as far back as I can remember. I might have to get a long distance conference call going if things don't sort themselves out soon.
Oh, and I am down to THREE girls in my class. This has increased the number of times in a day when I ask myself if those vitamins I take each morning might actually be CRAZY PILLS in diguise, from once or twice to approximately 1,234. Good thing I love those little gremlins.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
FUCK.
My credit card (of the German bank variety) has been compromised. Some thieving, low down, no good, uneducated (well, maybe) ASSHOLE stole my credit card number off of an airline website. At least, this is the theory I have formulated after doing a good bit of sleuthing.
What kind of a world is this?! What kind of a universe is this!? Relatively speaking, I'm a pretty rad person. I open doors for women with baby strollers. I let old people have my seat on public transportation. I lend money to people who need it. I make my neighbor cookies (admittedly with the outside chance of receiving nookie in exchange for the cookie, HA, but still). I teach small children how to read and write and not beat each other to bloody pulps every day. So where the hell has all that good karma gone?!?!?!?!
Can I get a GOB Bluth style OH, COME ON?!
Seriously! It's ridiculous! I'm enraged! ENRAGED, I TELL YOU.
Yes, I've alerted the bank, have my statement asserting my indignation along with my demand to be reimbursed prepared and signed and ready to fax tomorrow, wocka wocka wocka. However, I will not feel better until I have my money back. No, scratch that. I will not feel better until I find the bottom feeder who committed this act of perfidy against me, and take every cent out on their FLESH.
Ok, I may have spoken rashly concerning the flesh part, I'm generally against violence. But I'll turn them over to the authorities. And do a lot of righteous smirking in his/her/their general direction.
Vengeance SHALL be mine......nay.......MUST be mine.
Fuck.
Said asshole purchased not one, not even two, but THREE TICKETS TO AUSTRALIA.
Dear Australia: YOU SUCK.
Dear Australia: YOU SUCK.What kind of a world is this?! What kind of a universe is this!? Relatively speaking, I'm a pretty rad person. I open doors for women with baby strollers. I let old people have my seat on public transportation. I lend money to people who need it. I make my neighbor cookies (admittedly with the outside chance of receiving nookie in exchange for the cookie, HA, but still). I teach small children how to read and write and not beat each other to bloody pulps every day. So where the hell has all that good karma gone?!?!?!?!
Can I get a GOB Bluth style OH, COME ON?!
Seriously! It's ridiculous! I'm enraged! ENRAGED, I TELL YOU.
Yes, I've alerted the bank, have my statement asserting my indignation along with my demand to be reimbursed prepared and signed and ready to fax tomorrow, wocka wocka wocka. However, I will not feel better until I have my money back. No, scratch that. I will not feel better until I find the bottom feeder who committed this act of perfidy against me, and take every cent out on their FLESH.
Ok, I may have spoken rashly concerning the flesh part, I'm generally against violence. But I'll turn them over to the authorities. And do a lot of righteous smirking in his/her/their general direction.
Vengeance SHALL be mine......nay.......MUST be mine.
Fuck.
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