.SOMETIMES RAW.

Things that annoy me:

• Corona and my son’s school informing me that one child has flu-like symptoms and will be tested. They also don’t know if the school will be open or closed next week.
• People who show zero interest in their child(ren) and don’t pay child support.
• People who misspell the word “you’re” when telling me I am a horrible person (“your *horrible*”)
• People who stand too close to me while I am in line for something. I like social distancing.
• Radio commercials. Every single one. Ever.
• People who say “I eat to live. I don’t live to eat.”
• Black jelly beans. Also, black licorice.
• Men who don’t make sure the woman comes.
• Really drunk people. I am not a hypocrite. I do drink and love it, but I don’t get hammered anymore.
• “Superfoods”, watercress and Quinoa and the hype around it.
• People who don’t look me into the eyes when they speak to me. Those who look up or put their glasses down and then look up.
• People who spread rumors or judge.
• Drivers who fully speed to a blinking green light and then hit the brake hard at the yellow light.
• The Big Bang Theory. The TV show, not the theory.
• People who talk super loud in public. Also, those who scream into the phone. It is a telephone, not a megaphone.
• People with egos that don’t let them acknowledge the truth.
• People with egos.
• Grown women wearing shorts that are small enough to be a diaper. Well, it is okay if you can rock them but maybe don’t wear them to work.
• People who go to Starbucks to write.
• People who bring a book to a bar. Don’t try to look mysterious and interesting. You are reading in a bar.
• People who only eat healthily.
• Most kids who aren’t my son. Some kids are cute, but most need to tone it right on down.
• Men who try to flirt with me even though I give clear indicators that I am not interested. JUST STOP!
• Women who act like prudes. Toughen up a little bit.
• Hardcore feminists.
• People cursing loud on the train and I have to explain to my son what a “f***ing c**t” is.
• Most people on the train.

Things that make me happy:

• Being at home with my family.
• Books.
• My son laughing or doing pretty much anything. School starts in September and I bought him his school supply today. A new chapter – I am as excited as he is.
• British Scones. And NOT the store-bought ones that come six to a sad plastic container. I am talking real scones. I am talking The Cake Tree in Vienna scones. Also, the store-bought ones.
• Seeing people I love happy.
• Reading on my morning commute.
• Writing. Always.
• Helping a blind person get out of the subway and subway station. Even if they don’t want help.
• Receiving gifts.
• Making people laugh to the point of wiping tears away.
• Being on a boat or Jet Ski that is going way too fast and screaming my head off.
• Being with people I love.
• Cooking but not baking. Unless it’s bread.
• Waking up next to the person I am in love with and when he pulls me toward him to cuddle and kiss. Bliss. Everything that rhymes is good.
• That moment when someone in a motorized wheelchair passes, I like holding my hand up to cover the person’s body, so it just looks like a head is flying by.
• Sitting on the couch or in the kitchen (kitchen sessions) with friends and having long conversations about what is going on with the men in our lives. Yes, with wine. I didn’t think I needed to add that, but here it is.
• The Beatles.
• Making a new friend. Having friends. Being with friends.
• Pasta and Smoked salmon. Yum!
• Watching a good movie. Imagine this: You’ve had a long day. Say, stressful job, restless kid(s), and a global pandemic and you just want to turn your brain off. For me, it is “When Harry Met Sally“. The ending makes my heart swell, and suddenly everything feels better.
• Falling in love and sex. Let’s be honest here. Sex is pretty great.
• Buying a car and being able to explore.
• Vienna. This city just makes sense to me in a way no other place ever has.
• My divorce on July 2nd, 2019.

COVID-19 has made me think a lot. A couple of days ago I woke up at 1:30 in the morning feeling like it is time to wake up, or at least certain that I would not be going back to sleep. So I was in bed, wide awake, and chewed on thoughts that made me feel like I am running an emotional marathon even though when I returned to the present, I remembered that I have not moved an inch. Perhaps an hour or two hours have gone by, and I couldn’t even remember what I was thinking, even though it seemed so urgent while I was thinking it. I am still physically in exactly the same place I was when I woke up all that time ago. Lately, this seems to be a recent theme on the internal hamster wheel. Do you ever feel like you have run an emotional marathon even though technically, nothing specific has happened? Or things you want to change in your life but don’t know how to?

COVID-19 has changed my view on a bunch of things. What began as just an idea to own less stuff has changed the way I view myself and the world around me in significant ways. One of the changes is my reevaluation of how society defines success. Too often, those who make and spend and keep the most resources for themselves are labeled as the successful ones. However, some of the best people I know would not be regarded as successful in worldly terms. Precisely because they have decided to spend and focus their resources on less materialistic things.

These people are far too rare, or at least, they do not get enough recognition. Instead, it seems ingrained to desire and appreciate the praise and the admiration of others. And because of that, many people will compromise greater and more worthwhile pursuit for the facade of temporal, worldly success. To that end, and because of how my view of the world and its people has begun to change, I will offer a short list of things that no longer impress me:

Clothing/Accessories: Quality and manufacturing practices are important. Quality over quantity. I never bought a lot of clothing but now it is even less. I am and was never impressed by clothing, a logo on anything, shoes, a purse, or a watch. Instead, I admire people who are confident in timeless fashion and seek to make an impression by their character. Hey, by the way, while the size of the rock on someone’s finger or the jewelry they are wearing is noticed by some (the weird ones), most are not even looking and they don’t care.

Car: The goal of my vehicle is to safely transport a person from point A to point B. Reliability is important, so is comfort. Especially if I spend lots of time in it. This does not mean it has to be a Q7 or BMW X-whatever. There are other, way cheaper, and good cars out there. Most luxury cars appeal to a different motivation, they are no longer just about transportation. They often appeal to a need to broadcast success or to get noticed. Even if that means impressing strangers for a couple of seconds at a red light.

House: To me, a house is supposed to provide shelter and an opportunity for stability. Over the course of my life, I have moved many times and have experienced the pride that comes from providing and creating a home. But, I intentionally chose to downsize and rent/buy a smaller home. It is a decision I have never regretted. And to this day, when I drive past a large house, the only thing I can think of is how much happier I am in a small one. My dream is to find a small house with a (large) backyard to grow fruit and veggies.

Work: Retirement seems to be the ultimate for most people. Live life to the fullest. Enjoy every day. Work is…. well, it’s work. But, there is a life besides work and work is not everything. These days, I am grateful to still have a job. So, many people have lost everything. But if you are unhappy with your job then stop complaining. There are only solutions: Change. Find a balance. Quit that job that drains your energy. Be creative. Study. Do something. Also, I think it is important to stop impressing others with the things you own. Rather inspire them by the life you live.

To sum this up, one of the best parts of COVID-19 was to see the world through my son’s eyes. The world felt/feels so magical. It is not just a city block with buildings. We are not restricted or quarantined. The world is a giant ant hill or a maze and we need to discover new things. Other COVID-19 highlights that made me control that chaos are:

• Talking to my parents and brother. Always.
• Being loved.
• Spending time with my partner, long conversations, cake, reading (in the reading lounge), laughing together, and taking long walks. Simply, just being together.
• Getting letters and packages by mail (only the ones with a sender count).
• When the moon is out during the daytime.
• When trees are still dripping after the rain. And the awesome smell.
• Kissing and hugging.
• Picnics on a blanket.
• Observing a turtle eating a strawberry. Cute little tongue.

It is always the little things.

My parents still live in the house we moved into when I was five. Or six? Something like that. It does not matter because every time I come home, I have the instant feeling of comfort. And so many memories of my childhood. Hanging out with friends, playing Polly Pocket (kid of the 80s), building mazes in the field, then running away from the farmer. Life was good. Easy. There were no problems.

Then, there was school. I always loved studying and learning new things. And (plateau) shoes, lunch boxes, and sharp pencils. There were birthday- and Halloween parties, and hours of talks with my friend L. from our bedroom windows across the street. I roller-skated in my driveway and on the street in front of the house that leads to a dead-end. I walked to and back home from the bus stop on my own. No need to lock the back door when we played out front. I thought (and of course still do) my mother was the most beautiful woman in the world and my father is/was a strong man who could build awesome things and always protects me. A dad who could snore on the couch as we all stood around and teased him loudly. I wish this comfortable feeling for every child on earth.

Currently, I am aware of two children who are not afforded that luxury and it hurts me badly to watch this. Many others also had houses filled with chaos and abuse, and they learned to keep their mouths shut and to stay out of trouble. I was dealt with two loving parents who encouraged me to be curious. This safety net combined with the small rebel inside of me meant I did a lot of silly things to try to make life seem exciting. Our little town of Coburg, Bavaria, is quiet and homogenous, with many small communities around, small ranch houses and farms on tree-lined streets littered with pine needles. The only thing we feared was the neighbor’s dog. Coburg is sleepy, and to a restless young girl like me, it often felt like a ghost town. I yearned for adventure and spent a lot of my youth in my own head, creating elaborate fantasies that felt grown-up. Fantasies to move as far away as possible.

Otherwise, the streets and woods around my house were a perfect setting for fake mischief. My friends and I would spend all afternoon pretending we had run away and had to live on our own. We tried to make a fire in the park. L. and I smoked one cigarette someone gave us and swore to never smoke again. We also would sneak out at dusk with a pair of binoculars and search the streets for murderers.

After school, I would do a bit of homework, eat ravenously, and then hop on my bike and coast down the streets. Riding fast and helmetless just because. I would pedal furiously up to the edge of the woods and jump off my bike to hide in the bushes imagining how ridiculous my friends would feel when they realized they had walked right past me. Again, life was good.

On long car trips up to Northern Germany (St. Peter Ording) for our yearly camping trips at the ocean, I would make my siblings pretend they were deaf while we sat in the backseat. The car was our playground while my dad drove for hours with this weird nervous eye-twitch of annoyance. We would communicate in made-up sign language as we sped down the Autobahn, in the hope that a passing car would see us and feel pity for the beautiful family with three deaf children. When you have a comfortable and loving family, sometimes you yearn for a dance on the edge. This can lead to an overactive imagination, but it is also the reason why some kids in Coburg do drugs these days. And probably even way back when but we had no clue what we were looking at.

And then, there was V. We met in kindergarten and our mothers instantly became very close friends, too. In kindergarten, she was usually dressed in a princess dress and cried all day. I was dressed in a homemade sweater (possibly even knitted), corduroys, and short brown hair (“because it is easier to maintain”). Remember, this was still the 80s, which says more about my mother’s wonderful acceptance and creativity and a bit of my weirdness and less about my fashion choices at that time. Actually, not much has changed in all these years, except my hair is long now. So, V. and I hit it off instantly and are super close to this day. We had and have each other’s backs even when other’s were talking behind them. We had the right balance of humor and pathos mixed with a pinch of weird -and craziness.

As we grew up, V. remained my comfort zone even though our ways parted for some time. This is life. Everybody did their own thing for a while, but we were always connected and updated about each other through our moms who hung out quite frequently. And then V’s mother got sick. Suddenly, the world was small and tight. “Our parents never die or get sick”, we used to say. The inevitability of death became a new nightmare. I don’t remember when I first heard of V’s mom getting seriously sick, but it was in that way young children receive news, a watered-down version that is a combination of investigating and straight-up eavesdropping. I remember speaking to V. on the phone several times and she seemed very lost but also very strong. I also remember my incredible paralysis throughout the whole thing. I wanted the whole thing to go away. I wanted us to be kids again sitting in my kitchen and eat cake while V’s mom tells us stories and takes us to the movies after.

I lived in Canada when V.’s mom passed away and I didn’t do a very good job of being there for her. I knew she was not alone and I did that classic thing of thinking I should just leave everyone alone and wait for the sad parties to reach out when they need help. I remember I felt so sad and it unlocked deep feelings and cut through my numbness that our parents will get older and eventually pass away; hopefully just of old age.

But let’s not end on this sad note. Let’s end by pointing out positive ways to feel alive. You can tell someone you are there for them and love them. You can help people who need help with real bad guys. Or you can do one of these Ironman things. Or ask for help. Or write. Because writing is more than content. More than the stories told. It is healing.