Blythe Spirit

How Flossing Changed My Life

I strive to be truthful. But I used to lie to my dental hygienist twice a year, without fail, when she would ask me if I flossed. “MmmHmm,” I nodded as I tried to make sure and answer while her fingers were in my mouth, hopefully obscuring my guilty face. And then she would remark on my bleeding gums and I would say, “Well, not every day,” which meant, “Well, only once in a while when I get a popcorn kernel stuck in my molar.” And she would smile politely and then get serious and tell me I really should be flossing blah blah blah.

I finally realized that this little untruth, though practically a national pastime, was the worst part of my dental appointments. It pained me even more than the dragging of those pointy spiral instruments past my aching gums. So I finally just decided to tell her the truth, that I did not floss. I thought maybe that would garner some sympathy, that I’d get points for being the one and only person in the chair that day who admitted her shortcomings. But instead I didn’t even get a sympathetic smile this time, just a stern talking-to about gum disease.

And then I moved to Germany and met the kindest, friendliest hygienist I’ve ever known, who cheerfully gave me two teeth-cleanings straight from a Stephen King novel. I swear I saw my own blood spattered on the ceiling as I rose from the chair. And I went home and broke out the dental floss.

I have too many teeth that are too big for my mouth. This meant braces and appliances and rubber bands and elementary school photos wherein I look like a K-9 or a descendant of Nosferatu. Now that the cosmetics are straightened out, my teeth are crammed so tightly together that anything I try to slide between them becomes caught. Floss shreds. Toothpicks splinter. And I have a permanently-installed retainer that traps food particles like a Venus Flytrap grabs insects (yum). So that’s always been my excuse for poor dental hygiene. But I was determined to avoid needing cauterization the next time I hit the dentist’s chair.

And so, for the past twelve months, I’ve been a flossing machine. I floss every single night before bed, even when I’m tired, even when I’m on vacation, and even when I found out we were moving back to the USA and I knew I’d never see that friendly, devilish hygienist again. In fact, if you can believe this, I made a dentist appointment for the week before we moved just so I could display my sparkling gums to her. Of course in fine German style, when I announced I’d been flossing she said, “Oh this is fine, but your retainer is still a difficulty.” Whatever.

Now the point to this story wasn’t to give you a far-too-detailed account of what’s inside my mouth (but aren’t you lucky? you got one anyway). It’s to tell you that old dogs can learn new tricks! Really we can! Because I am still flossing, and I realized last week that I’ve started LOOKING FORWARD to how my teeth feel after I’ve flossed, in the same way I used to look forward to brushing them. Now, that minty freshness just isn’t complete until I’ve yanked a piece of Teflon-coated string between my teeth. Just think of what this means. I might one day learn to make my bed every morning! I could start washing the car once a week! I could get up an hour earlier and do yoga!

But since none of that is likely to happen, I’m just looking forward to my next dentist appointment where there will be no lies or evasion or, if I’m lucky, blood on the ceiling.

Congratulations

I’ve received so many nice e-mails congratulating me on our impending return to the USA. “Congratulations and welcome home!” they say, and it’s a reminder of one of the reasons we’re moving back, the embrace of those who know us and like us and want to have us around. When I am feeling generous and self-confident, I imagine these people are saying, “Congratulations on a new phase of life, on Jeff’s new job, on making a big decision!”

But if I’m honest, my initial reaction to these messages is horror that all these people think the past three years have been nothing but a long slow trudge and toil toward the ultimate goal of getting the hell out of here. That they believe I call Jeff at work twice a day and say, “Have you checked Monster.com? It looks like they need a greeter at The Gap in Los Angeles?” (If you know Jeff, you see that this is a funny joke because he would hate nothing more than a job where he must stand in a mall and talk cheerfully with tanned strangers all day long.) I can’t imagine why anyone might believe that leaving Germany is a triumph for me, unless they read my blog, and posts like this one, or heard me whining about how the Germans are cranky and don’t believe in air conditioning or elevators, or somehow got the vibe that it’s going to take a vat of authentic Baja Fresh salsa to make me happy. Well, maybe it’s not such a mystery.

In fact, moving back doesn’t seem so much a victory as a wobbly step toward a place where we know we should be. Germany is definitely not home, but even after just three years away, our old hometown seems like our OLD hometown. It has all the stuff I’ve been craving since I left – books I can read, movies I can see, shampoo that doesn’t wreak havoc with my scalp, and above all a support system and language I can understand. But when I think about having all that stuff and more, lit up and blinking and declaring its presence all around me, all the time, I get a little panicky. All those Sundays I spent complaining about how there was NOTHING TO DO and NO ONE TO DO IT WITH around here are coming back to haunt me, because now I’m concerned that I will never relax since something delightful will always, perpetually be around the corner – farmers’ markets! family birthday parties! that new Kashmiri restaurant that opened last week! the X-Files movie! – and I will never ever have a moment to just sit down and eat the burrito that currently lives only in my dreams.

I hope I’ll remember the lessons I’ve learned from this culture and from the reserved yet kind Germans who have taught me that a long walk in the park is sometimes better than a drive to the mall for an Orange Julius, and that sometimes it’s nice only to have a nodding acquaintance with the scruffy bearded guy who lives next door instead of knowing every detail of his life story. I am even calmed a bit when I try to imagine those congratulatory messages through a different lens, and wonder how a German might respond to his friend who has announced she is moving back home after a stint abroad. It is unlikely that he would use any exclamation marks (in fact I think the exclamation mark takes finger gymnastics on a German keyboard, not surprising). He would probably say something along these lines: “I hope your husband’s new job is with a stable company and don’t forget, the taxes here are high. Your mother will be lucky to have you nearby to help with her health problems. Please call us at Christmas and we will make an appointment for coffee.” Translation: Welcome home!

Danke Schön

I made the first stop on my farewell tour last night, and it was only appropriate that it was spent with a few of my favorite expat bloggers. B., Katie,Christina (along with her two sidekicks, Rainer and Oliver)and I talked politics and blogs and future plans until almost midnight. We ate Indian food and introduced Oliver to mango-yogurt shakes (a big hit) and inadvertently yet cheerfully explored a bit of Nuernberg I’d never seen before.

I started this blog imagining that a few friends and family members would tune in to see whether we’d survived the first week. I’m still sort of thrilled and freaked out that anyone else ever reads and comments here, and that I’ve actually met some of you in person. Honestly, when the first comments from strangers appeared, I got a little nervous. Aren’t those people on the internet a bunch of weirdos, building their own mainframes in their parents’ basements? And just before B and I met for the first time, I looked at Jeff and said, well, I guess if you don’t hear from me you can assume she turned out to be a serial killer.

But despite my slightly suspicious nature, I make an effort to assume the best about people, and I haven’t been disappointed by you, readers. I’ve found friends in a place and at a time that I felt friendless. I’ve received care packages and shopped for baby clothes and solved blog design crises with people I’ve met here. That must mean that I’ve officially become one of those internet weirdos I was worried about.

Blogging, and knowing my blog isn’t just for me any more, has been a big part of my Deutsch adventure, and I wouldn’t have kept it up if it weren’t for you, dear readers. Thanks for being here.

More More

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That’s Theo’s favorite phrase now. “Mo mo mo mo.” Usually he’s talking about strawberries. But right now, he could be talking about anything, because there’s a lot going on around here. We have visitors from the USA, a family wedding in just a few weeks, European Cup football, and glorious weather. And even more stuff than that. Mo mo mo mo.

So here’s a mosaic of my friends’ mosaics, just for fun. (I couldn’t include anyone who doesn’t use Flickr, sorry about that.)

Hello world!

Welcome to WordPress.com. This is your first post. Edit or delete it and start blogging!

Landing

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I felt a little sorry for myself on the plane because Jeff was seated in the row behind us instead of next to me. Then I chatted for a while with my seatmate, who was traveling from Cairo with her two-year-old and her six-week-old. The tiny baby was on the second long-haul flight of her life, having been born in New Zealand, returned home to Egypt, then packed on the airplane for this Christmas journey just ten days after landing.

Ten days after our own touchdown, we’ve celebrated half a year’s worth of occasions. This tends to happen in big families, I think. We save up all the festivities – birthdays, baptisms, baby and bridal showers – until everyone can be there or it just doesn’t feel right. Now, appropriately after such overindulgence, we’re feeling exhausted and could use some greasy fast food.

Still on the to-do list: a serious visit to Powell’s bookstore; a multi-course Mexican feast; a visit to Montana to complete the Grandma matched set.

And, can you believe it snowed on Christmas day?

Mmmm…donuts

We’re halfway through our day over here because SOMEONE decided to get up at 5am. And then, instead of cuddling with his stuffed giraffe and going back to sleep, he decided that my lower lip should be his comfort item du jour. That’ll teach me to forget to clip my baby’s fingernails.

Tooth number six is headed down the turnpike. The hair follicles are still far behind. However, in the long run, teeth are more important than hair, right? I mean, there are always hats, and scalp sunscreen. But those teeth you keep in a glass by the side of the bed are a real pain, I hear.

On Sunday, I ate:
A Hungarian delicacy resembling an elephant ear, topped with garlic butter, shredded cheese, and sour cream
Bratwurst in a roll, with mustard
Hot mini donuts
Now that the local street festival has closed, I should probably have some salad.

Grazie Mille

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I highly recommend taking your infant on vacation.

No, really. I suppose I didn’t have to live through a transAtlantic plane ride, but we did spend about ten hours in the car one day. And still. It was worth it. Because we went to Italy. And where else would every woman we met who was over 40 years old and not wearing Gucci sunglasses tell us that our baby was going to save the world with his cuteness? Or something like that. I don’t speak Italian.

Our trip through Austria, Venice, and Tuscany was delightful, and I’m pretty sure Theo’s first word is going to be “Ciao.” Or possibly “gelato.” Or maybe “What the hell is with these toll roads? The next exit is twenty kilometers away and I have to pay 20 euros to get there?”

Check out our vacation pics here.

Just can’t get enough

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I know you can’t get enough baby pictures, so I’ve added a few more (see the sidebar). Besides our daily photo shoots, life is pretty boring around here. We’ve apparently acquired the world’s safest yet heaviest carseat. Theo’s not so sure how he feels about it (see photo). I love everything about it until the moment I have to haul it up four flights of stairs to our apartment. I’m not kidding when I tell you that my arms are now almost too weak to pick up my baby out of his bassinet. Those damn baby books didn’t say anything about doing bench presses to prepare for birth. (I suppose they didn’t say anything about eating entire bags of Twizzlers either, but I managed to do that.)

Oscar Pool 2007: The Results Show

Here they are, the second annual Oscar pool results. We at The Blythe Spirit HQ received a record number of 51 entries this year, and we thank you for your participation.

The big winner is Karl Stickel, of Seattle Washington, who chose 16 of the 24 eventual winners correctly. Karl was followed closely by a three-way tie for second place, among last year’s winner Melanie Reed, Kylee, and B from Eurotrippen with 13 correct answers each.

Note that the strength of these winning entries rested heavily on the lesser-known categories (Karl nailed all the documentary and short film categories) and only one of them chose the Best Picture correctly. Lesson: pay closer attention to the short films on the Independent Film Channel and don’t worry if you have no idea who is going to win the biggies. Either that, or just guess lucky.

Complete results:
Karl – 16
Melanie R – 13
Kylee – 13
B – 13
Karen – 12
Kerri B – 12
Daniela – 12
Kerri W – 12
Rachel – 12
Geoff – 12
Scott – 12
Mike – 12
Todd – 12
Ahnawake – 12
Darin – 11
Kathryn – 11
Jennifer F – 11
Stacey – 10
Sandi – 10
Kiki – 10
Hollie – 10
David B – 10
Francie – 10
Ingrida – 10
Erica – 10
Kendra – 9
Katie – 9
Ashley- 9
Melanie S – 9
Glendi – 9
Monique – 8
David C – 8
Anna – 8
Kristen – 8
Jeff – 8
Dan – 8
Amy – 8
Emily – 8
Britten – 8
Chad – 8
Jennifer W – 7
Kassie – 7
Martha – 7
Barbara – 7
Margery – 7
Joanne – 7
Erin – 7
Janice – 6
Gerry – 6
Julia – 6
Tracy – 4

Thanks again for your participation.

Oh? You were wondering about the prizes?
Karl will receive a copy of Movie Menus: Recipes for perfect meals with your favorite films. Melanie, Kylee, and B will each receive a chocolate Oscar statue.

Happy Viewing in 2007.