#however. night team and busy days like friday saturday and sundays would skip out because it was too busy

[ilguna]

managers really think they know it all, huh?

[theuniversitychallengereview]

UC 51.13 - Wolfson, Ox vs Bristol

I am allergic to dairy. Or at least I believe I am. This is different to lactose intolerance in that it has symptoms more in line with your typical bout of hayfever, rather than those of a more gastrointestinal bent that you get with intolerance. In other words - cheese makes me sneeze. 

I first discovered this about a year ago when I had something containing milk after a month of testing out various vegan cheeses (having previously been a cheese sandwich on the daily kind of guy). I was completely wiped out with a runny nose, runny eyes, achy joints, heavy head kind of illness for about a day or so. Now, this is a kind of illness that had been plaguing me for years, but I’d never stopped long enough to think about what the cause could be. I just sort of assumed that I was a person who would always suffer a base level of ‘having a cold’ and would occasionally and seemingly randomly get taken out by an extreme instance of it every once in a while. 

After this first incident last year I conducted an experiment on myself whereby I swore off all dairy products for a month and then consumed in as little time as is physically possible, a large takeaway pizza with extra cheese and a large portion of cheesy chips. The next day I was struck down by the same severe sniffles and was forced into a life sans-cheese sandwiches for the first time in living memory. I called the GP to see if they’d be able to do some tests or something to try and find more out about it, but they basically told me that they thought I’d solved the mystery already - so why would I need anything from them. 

Nearly a year goes by with no further cheese-based indispositions, until last Thursday when, on a work trip, and having not eaten since breakfast, having skipped lunch in anticipation of a larger window for the consumption of a full meal which did not materialise, I bought a superfood wrap, the ingredients of which I had read and believed to be safe. However, it turned out that it contained copious amounts of feta. Realising this only once I had taken the first bite, I resolved to finish it. In any case I was absolutely starving and this was the only food I was likely going to see for the next few hours. How bad could it be, anyway?

Very bad, as it turns out. To the extent, indeed, that most of Friday, Saturday and Sunday were complete right-offs (other than the fact that I was able to binge without guilt the entirety of Squid Game). To the extent also, that I spent a not-insignificant amount of time trying to research exactly what it is that's wrong with me (i think it could be something to do with the fact there is a lot of histamine in cheese, and this messes about with the way my immune system deals with threats… If anyone has any insights on this subject they would be greatly appreciated), in the hope of potentially being able to mitigate the issue in the future. 

Usually when I delve this deep into a subject there is the prospective chance that said research will serve me well in future quizzes. With this in mind, and with the hope that it acts as sufficient justification for this self-centred ramble about cheese, I am really hoping for a three part bonus set on the role of histamine in the immune response tonight.

Anyway, (any usually when I make an apology for my rambling I’m being flippant, but in this case it really is genuine, because there isn’t really any excuse for this level of frippery in the introduction to any blog post), sorry for the gigantic diversion from the scheduled programming; here’s your starter for ten. 

Bristol have made seven University Challenge quarter-finals, without ever making it to the semis, which is quite impressive in more ways than one. Wolfson have never made the semis either, but they only have a sole quarter to their name, meaning they have a ways to go to match their West Country rivals.

Wolfson’s Williams introduces himself with one of the biggest smiles I’ve ever seen on a contestant, and its pretty infectious. By the time Paxman gets round to asking the questions I’m positively grinning. The jolly fellow himself is the first to get some points on the board, recognising various revolutions before anyone else. They take two bonuses on the words of the acronym TARDIS. 

Bristol’s Woodcock negs the next starter, coming in very early with India, and then rapping his hand on the desk when he’s told he’s wrong. Wolfson aren’t able to pick up the points, and returned the neg with one of their own next time out. Williams takes his second of the night with Shackleton and beams his head off again. They take two bonuses, including one which is a very obvious description of an electron - the kind of question that has no business appearing on the Challenge.

Nowakowski is first to recognise Granada for the first picture round and he bloody well dabs. He pauses for a brief moment and then literally, and energetically, dabs. I don’t know what else to say about this. It is beyond description almost. Brilliant, mind, but beyond description. A third starter for Williams increases Wolfson’s lead, but they can’t capitalise on the bonuses. The next ten pointer goes to Nowakowski too and… this time he raises his glass of water like he’s cheers-ing the crowd in celebration. I really hope this dude has a full set of different celebrations for each time he gets a question right. We shall see…

Following an amusing discussion between the Wolfson team in which Nowakowski says of Chopin, ‘Well, as a Polish man I wouldn’t call him French, but you’re the captain’, Woodcock makes up for his earlier neg and gets Bristol back on the move. They keep going courtesy of Brian on the music starter, as she gets The Shangri-Las so quickly as to elicit some murmurs of appreciation from Paxman. They then take the lead with a bonus set on film titles made of international country codes and pretty quickly they are thirty points clear.

Aggarwal hits back for Wolfson with an early buzz of Ramanujan, but they don’t make many inroads on the bonuses, and Bristol seize back control with a pair of consecutive starters. They take two bonuses on events happening in years in which the second two digits are three times as large as the first two digits - a lovely UC contrivance which initially seems to make the question more difficult but actually makes it a multiple choice guessing game.

I hadn’t realised it, but Bristol are now ninety points clear. I don’t quite know how they’ve done it, because Wolfson seemed like they were doing okay, but fair play to them, they’ve been excellent after a shaky start. The game is over at this point, but Williams gets in a little joke with a guess of Dr Gilssando on a question featuring the word glissando. Good lad. 

Hang on, if Wolfson can get a few more points they might be in with a shot of the play-offs, and Nowakowski is still pretty pumped when they he gets a bonus question right, yelling Uzbekistan, baby. It isn’t enough to get them the 140 points they need to come back for the repechage, but Paxman comments on his enthusiasm at the end of the match, in one of the most surreal exchanges I’ve ever seen on the Challenge. 

He asks Nowakowski why he was so psyched about his Uzbekistan answer, and Nowakowski says ‘Phenomenal country, great people’, to which Paxo says ‘That’s enough from the Uzbekistan tourist board’. Nowakowski then points a finger at the camera and says ‘Poland approved’. This description doesn’t do it any justice, so if you haven’t seen it already do go and watch it (and if you have then watch it again, its really quite something)

Final Score: Wolfson, Ox 110 - 165 Bristol

I’m going to miss Wolfson, and in particular Nowakowski, so, so much. But full congratulations to Bristol, who dealt with the boundless charisma of their opponents most admirably. See you next week for the last first round match!

[j-writes-and-suffers]

NaNoWriMo Day Eleven

Wandering around the top floor of the library, Philip took a minute to explore before properly searching for Lucien. He discovered several nice alcoves for studying, as well as a large collection of dictionaries, thesauri, and other writing resources surrounding a big desk. He was busy snooping about for anything else cool when a voice murmured in his ear.

“Finding everything alright?”

“Fuck!” Philip jumped about a foot in the air, spinning around to glare at Lucien. “Dude, I swear, you’re gonna be the death of me…”

Lucien chuckled. “Sorry. I can’t help myself. You’re so easy to scare.”

Philip rolled his eyes. “You’re an ass.”

“Perhaps so,” Lucien shrugged, “but you came to visit anyway.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” Philip’s cheeks were tinged pink, and he tried to change the subjects. “That Kyle kid is a piece of work.”

Lucien sighed deeply. “Oh. You met him, did you?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s something.” Lucien grumbled, “Sadly, no one but Heather and him applied, and I need the extra hands.”

“Jeez man, if you’re that desperate, I’ll chop off my hands and you can have those instead.” Philip jested.

Lucien’s resentful scowl faded, and he chuckled warmly. “I appreciate the offer, but I think you need those.”

Philip shrugged. “Nah, it’s fiiiine. Voice typing is getting pretty good. I’ll just learn to open doors with my foot or something.”

Rolling his eyes, Lucien dropped into a nearby chair. “You’re ridiculous.”

“The world needs a little ridiculous.” Philip replied, sitting next to him.

“That it does.” Lucien smiled. “You do make for some nice entertainment in my incredibly bland life.”

“Oh! Speaking of entertainment…” Philip remembered what he had actually come to the library for. “Do you want to go see a movie this weekend? I hear the newest superhero one is pretty good.”

Lucien paused to think, “I haven’t seen a movie in theater in years… It sounds nice, though. Dinner and a movie or just a movie?”

“How about a movie and a walk in the park?” Philip suggested.

“That sounds excellent.” Lucien smiled, but his cheeriness faded at the sound of bickering from downstairs. “I have to go deal with my lackeys… see you Wednesday, perhaps? Hopefully, by then, I’ll have them more under control.”

“Yeah, sure.” Philip nodded, following Lucien down the stairs and heading out the front door.

Wednesday afternoon, Philip returned to the library as promised. He and Lucien spent a few hours talking, with Philip helping carry stacks of books so they could actually stay productive. The evening drew to a close when it started raining outside, as Lucien urged Philip to get home before it got bad. As much as he wanted to stay, Philip knew that he’d be royally boned if he waited to leave and the rain got worse. With a reluctant goodbye, he hurried home, getting misted the whole way by the growing precipitation.

Philip spent most of Thursday bouncing around, his energy increasing as date night grew closer. He practically jogged to the library on Friday, wanting to iron out the details of their plans for tomorrow. Bolting in the front door, Philip was relieved to see Heather, rather than Kyle, on circulation duty.

“Hi, Heather.”

“What’s up, blondie?” She asked, looking up from her bio textbook.

“Uh, where’s Lucien?” Philip asked, “I wanted to talk to him.”

“Then you’ll have to call him, cause he’s not here. Sick or something.” Heather shrugged, as if this didn’t worry her at all.

“What?” Philip’s jaw dropped, heartbreak shining in his wide, dark eyes.

She shrugged again. “He’s out sick a lot, it’s probably nothing.”

“B… but we had a date tomorrow.” Philip was trying to hide his distress, but his voice wavered audibly.

“That sucks, man. I’m sure he’ll make it up, though. Luci’s loyal. He’s just also sickly as hell.”

Philip didn’t seem convinced. “But what if he’s not sick? What if he doesn’t wanna see me, and he’s just too nice to say so?”

Heather rolled her eyes. “You’re being paranoid.”

“Or maybe I’m being realistic. I was always suspicious that he wasn’t really into me. I’m too young and dumb and annoying. I don’t know why I ever thought we had something.”

“Dude, calm down. Go drink or something. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.” She snapped, losing her patience with Philip’s nervous antics.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to bother you. I’ll… I’ll go now.” Philip hung his head shamefully, hurrying out of the library and heading for home. He only made it about ten minutes before tears started dripping down his cheeks. His already sluggish pace slowed further, and he sniffled softly, rubbing his eyes as he trudged off campus, heading for his miserably empty apartment.

Philip curled up on his couch as soon as he got home. Though he was normally hungry after such a long walk, today the pain in his stomach was a gut-wrenching sadness. He felt rejected, unwanted, pathetic. He’d known somewhere in the back of his mind that he wasn’t good enough, but he’d convinced himself that Lucien didn’t mind. Why was he such an optimistic idiot?

He buried his face in the couch cushions, sobbing loudly now that he was in private. As the night dragged on, he finally quieted down, sitting up and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Maybe Heather was right. He should drink or something. That would cheer him up, or at least distract him. He went searching through the kitchen, wondering if he even had any alcohol around at the moment. All he could find was a bottle of blueberry wine; it must’ve been a gift or something, because he never drank wine and he fucking hated blueberries. However, he was in no mood to go out shopping, and decided he’d rather drink some gross wine than be sober.

Philip woke up on Saturday morning with no memory of the night before. His phone was on the floor by his bed, dead as a doornail. He groaned in dismay, plugging it in and praying that he hadn’t drunk-texted Lucien. The screen glowed with life, and he narrowed his eyes against the brightness. His heart skipped a beat as he saw a heartfelt plea sprawled out across the screen complete with typos and a confession of love. Philip cringed, ready to commit seppuku just to restore his dignity from this disaster, when his eyes wandered to the name at the top of the screen.

Team Snapchat.

For a brief moment, Philip actually believed there might be a god. He sighed deeply, relieved beyond words that he hadn’t spammed Lucien with an embarrassingly badly-written sob story. He set his phone aside, pulling a pillow over his face; he was feeling pretty rough after the previous night, and didn’t really want to do anything. Luckily, it was a Saturday, and his date had cancelled, so he was perfectly free to spend his night on absolutely nothing.

The weekend dragged on in a consistently boring and somewhat depressing fashion. When he finally found the will to get out of bed, Philip made himself a dinner of cinnamon toast crunch and ice cream, curling up on the couch to watch romance movies and cry. When Sunday evening rolled around, he started to get anxious. Should he go to the library tomorrow? Would Lucien even be there? Would Lucien want to see him if he was there? Should he even go to work tomorrow? His thoughts grew overwhelming, and Philip forced himself to stop caring. He curled up, ready to go to sleep. He’d just roll with the punches tomorrow, and let what happened happen.

Monday morning rolled around in its usual sluggish manner. Philip had no desire to be up before noon, but he crawled out of bed in time to lead his morning lecture nonetheless. Even less awake than usual, he grabbed an extra large coffee between each lecture, as well as a muffin from the coffee shop. By the end of the day, he found himself bouncing off the walls from an overload of sugar and caffeine. The excess energy only lent to his anxiety, and Philip paced around the lecture hall as his last class let out, contemplating whether or not to go to the library.

He’d told himself last night that he would relax and do what felt right, but he wasn’t anxious and caffeinated when he said that. Now he absolutely had to know what Lucien thought of him, even though he was nearly panicking just at the thought of outright rejection. He made a few more laps around the room before finally gathering his courage. He had to go to the library.

Philip’s legs were shaking as he walked up the old stone steps, but he took a deep breath and yanked the door open anyway. Kyle was manning the front desk, too busy with his cheetos and anime to even look up. Philip was honestly grateful for that; Kyle was the last person on earth he wanted to talk to right now. Nervously creeping into the library, he looked around, scanning every aisle for signs of Lucien. Instead, he found Heather re-shelving books. She looked up at him, giving a brief nod of greeting.

“Luci’s in the lounge.”

“Oh… uh… thanks.” Philip forced a smile, shuffling off towards the door in the back. It was slightly ajar, and he peeked nervously inside. No one was visible in the sliver of the room he could see, so he tentatively pushed the door open. “Lucien?” He squeaked, his voice breaking front sheer anxiety.

“I was wondering if you’d show.” Lucien was tucked into the corner of the couch, tea in one hand and a book in the other. His voice was incredibly scratchy, as though he’d just gargled with broken glass, and he honestly looked more like a week-old corpse than a live human. He was paler than a cartoon vampire, with deep shadows under his eyes. His face was startlingly gaunt and thin, as though he hadn’t eaten all weekend, and his normally-impeccable hair was slightly disheveled and more grey than ever.

Philip’s jaw nearly fell to the floor, and a pang of guilt struck him for ever thinking Lucien was lying about being sick. “Of course I’d show… I wanted to talk to you. Are you okay? You look really rough. What’s wrong?” He asked, stepping closer to get a better look at the older man.

“It’s a chronic illness I’ve dealt with for years. It’s not deadly, it just… gets the better of me sometimes. It’s not contagious, so you’ve really nothing to worry about.” Lucien seemed intent on calming Philip down; he could tell that the younger man was stressed. “Come sit with me, and we can talk.” He patted the couch cushion next to him, motioning Philip over.

Philip plopped down next to Lucien, frowning in concern. “You don’t seem to be feeling that good. Why come back to work so soon?”

“If I skipped work whenever I wasn’t feeling well, we’d need a new librarian.” Lucien quipped, “I learned to manage years ago, you really needn’t worry so much. All that aside, I do apologize for missing our date on Saturday. I told Heather to tell you that, but I don’t know how well she relayed the message…”

“Nah, it’s fine. She told me.” Philip lied. “Anything I can help you with while I’m here? I don’t want you overworking yourself.”

“Don’t be absurd. That’s what student workers are for.”

Philip couldn’t help but laugh, and he leaned against Lucien, a smile spreading across his face. “I’m glad you came back to work. I missed you on Friday.”

Lucien smiled back, some of the life briefly returning to his face. “I missed you, too."

[sudsybear]

Allergies

Because I quit SubDeb, I suddenly had more free time. No Sunday afternoon meetings, no mandatory attendance at club events, instead I developed other friendships. A year ahead of me in school, Anna also refused to participate in Sub Deb. Our mothers were on the Life Squad together, and our fathers worked for the same company, carpooling on occasion. For a time, our parents were all involved in the local community theater group. Anna and I were thrown together so often growing up that by the time we were in high school, we were friends in our own right. So, while Julie and Valli and Erin were busy with Sub Deb Club, Anna drew me into her world and her friends. We did girl stuff together when other friends were busy.

 She pulled me into her own high school clique. Like any group of high school friends, “membership” in the group was fluid; we were spread over several classes, one to three years apart. Interests varied and conflicting family and social obligations changed the weekly gatherings. Even so, we were all close friends, running together, having fun, alternately antagonizing and protecting one another.

 Ross was friends with Anna and Heather. Victor and Heather dated and I was friends with Heather and Cynthia, Valli and Cynthia were friends, both were friends with Jenny, with whom David shared a unique friendship. Cynthia lived just a few houses up from Victor and Igor. It’s all muddled and very confusing, and however it came about, I got to know Victor and his younger brother Igor. Another chain of friendship links led from Victor to Igor to Christopher to David and hence to me. Trust me, we were all intertwined and interconnected, we were quite clannish. The gang of us spent a lot of time together; we all knew each other’s kitchens and phone numbers.

 Anna announced, “Let’s meet at my house,” word got around, and we knew the place to meet. Anna’s home was a then-contemporary mid-60’s two-story colonial on a cul-de-sac at the top of a long residential street. Older homes (20s, 30s, and 40s) flanked the street at the bottom of the hill, and as you gained altitude, lot sizes got smaller while houses got bigger and younger. We sat in the living room of her parents’ home, and laughed and talked, the television tuned to MTV or the radio playing. Her parents might be in the kitchen or family room, close by but not intrusive. Our discussions ran the usual teenage gamut, gossip, music, clothing, and what to do later that same evening.

 We worried about the typical Midwestern suburban teenage problems - who was going to the pizza parlor before the football game on Friday night, who would we sit with in the stands, where would we go after the game. Who was going to walk to Corral together. Who was dating whom? We knew each other’s class schedules, phone numbers, kitchens, and bedrooms. We gossiped and giggled with each other, teased and defended each other, and offered advice, solicited or not. Along with a dozen other friends in our group, we all spent time together and I allowed myself to be dragged into outings and events, and got to know the boys better – David, Ross, Greg, Victor and Igor. There were others.

 One night David and Christopher diagrammed the myriad relationships using circles and triangles and color-coded arrows on a sheet of paper. Who was dating who, who used to date and were no longer speaking, who graduated but was still around and involved with the rest of us however tangentially. And who were only peripherally connected, mostly busy with other activities and different friends. Word got out about the diagram, and people worried about where they were drawn, what arrows pointed to whom. The whole incident caused quite a ruckus and the diagram was secreted away - never seen again.

 Overall, we enjoyed spending time with each other in the dynamics of group dating. I liked some but not all the boys and wasn’t particularly exclusive. They were mostly fun to be with. And yet, at some point during the evening Ross and I left the house together. For Ross, allergies kicked in and he couldn’t tolerate being in the house anymore. Anna’s family dog was a large white Samoyed. (I know that’s redundant for those who know Samoyeds - what Samoyed isn’t large and white?) Ross was extremely allergic. I was either tired of the tears and teenage histrionics, or the loud music, or both, and needed a breath of quiet and fresh air. So, we left. Just walked away together.

 I tugged on his arm, “Come on, Ross, let’s get your head clear. You’re miserable.” And he followed along willingly.

 They were comfortable walks. We were companionable and supportive. Ross needed to clear his head, I could not tolerate the petty jealousies the girls had for each other over the boys and needed to remove myself from the situation. My patience with girls crying, “She stole my boyfriend,” was limited. I had even less patience for the, “She was mean to me,” comments. So Ross and I left. Just walked away.

 We ambled (perambulated perhaps?) along the sidewalk up and down the hill – long enough for his head to clear and for me to work off nervous energy. We talked about Greg and Valli (each of our best friends were dating each other), Anna, what he and Shari did together. We gossiped about other families we knew. We walked, ran, and laughed. We skipped along the sidewalk like elementary schoolers, enjoying the feeling – step-hop, step-hop, step-hop. Other times we danced in the starlight, spinning around and falling to the ground. He’d hock a loogie, spit, and I’d do the same, making him laugh. We laughed together – oh how we laughed! Sometimes, we found a comfortable spot to sit in a neighbor’s front lawn, or leaned against a known vehicle parked on the street, and talked for a while; places we dreamed of going, movies we enjoyed, whether or not the football team was winning or losing, which teachers we liked or didn’t. By the time we got back to Anna’s I could cope with the histrionics (which either escalated in our absence or calmed down and dissipated) and he could breathe again for a while.

 But Ross was two years older – already a junior while I was a young freshman. We weren’t interested in dating – never crossed my mind anyway. Sure, Ross was “cute” - tall, lanky, dirty blonde hair, smile lines accenting his lean face. His hazel eyes changed color with mood or what he was wearing. But I wasn’t ready for “older boys”. Instead he and Shari went steady, later he dated Sara, another friend of Anna’s. Instead, ours was an acquaintanceship – we never called each other on the phone, nor were ever in each other’s house, never passed notes in school. We saw each other within the context of “the group” and served on Corral Board together, but on different committees. He ran on the boys’ track team with Greg, Valli and I ran together with the girls. We shared seats on the bus and cheered each other on.

 The following school year, Ross’ senior year, my sophomore year, David and I played at romance. He and I became close friends within the clique. We were all so entangled I don’t remember who he knew or how he was connected to whomever. What I do know is that I spent my sophomore year solidifying friendships, especially with David. We were pals. We had fun together. We laughed, we danced, and we played. We thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company. Our academic worlds did not compete, our social world was cozy and comfortable, and our teenage hormones complemented each other extremely well. He and I spent so much time together that friends finally goaded us into publicly conceding that we were “going out”.

 David is 5’6” in his Nikes. Lean and compact, you can’t call him wiry, but certainly he’s all muscle. More like a badger than a weasel. And why not? He rode his bicycle all over Wyoming for his paper route, and rode his skateboard down all the hills before that. Puberty hit, and while he didn’t gain much in height, he grew a beard immediately. He shaved it as a favor for his mother for his senior photo, but grew it back within a week. He wore his soft dark brown hair short and spiky along with his straight brown beard he kept close to his face. He keeps secrets behind his brown eyes. He has an ageless face; at age sixteen he could have passed for twenty-five and at thirty-five, even with a receding hairline he could still pass for twenty-five. Like me, David is a “youngest.” His older sisters were in school with my older brothers and without ever discussing it, we knew each other’s only child/youngest child position and the effect on our personalities – young, but old at the same time.

 David and I were friends first and foremost and I went along with him and his buddies, Christopher, Victor and Igor, and others when they were out and about. One Saturday afternoon the boys dragged me to the arcade. Some teenagers in the 1980s played video games on separate consoles hooked up to the family room television – Atari, Commodore. But these guys blew their money playing games at the arcade – PacMan, Donkey Kong, Asteroids, Space Invaders…we could blow $15 in 15 minutes.

 (Personally, I prefer the romance of pinball; a real ball with flippers controlled by springs. My grandfather was a pinball fiend in his day, playing at the lunch counter near the courthouse where he practiced law. My affinity for the real game of skill was inborn. Unfortunately, pinball games have gone high tech. These days pinball machines have computer chips controlling the flippers, the bumpers, and tallying the score. They’re all electronic digital crap controlled by a programmer long since dead of a drug overdose.)

 If the group didn’t meet at Anna’s, we gathered at Victor and Igor’s, goofing off in the basement until everyone arrived and we could leave together for our destination. Victor and Igor and Alex are brothers. The product of a Russian mother and Central American father, Victor was 6’ tall, white blonde with blue eyes and had that teenager slenderness that you might call wiry. He had a wild energy and a streak of vengeance that got him in trouble more than once. His “little” brother Igor was 6’4”, with dark hair, brown eyes. He was lanky, and not yet comfortable with his height. Igor had heart surgery as a child and the scar ran from his sternum around to his back. You noticed a slight deformity only when we swam together at the public swimming pool, but he was just Igor, so who cared? And Alex did his best to keep up with his older siblings. Just enough younger than Victor and Igor, he got into more trouble than he should have, and after his freshman year, was sent to a military academy for his high school years.

 The Morenos lived a couple of blocks over from my house. Like ours, their house was built in the 1920s and had relatively few remodel jobs over the years. The basement was dry, but unfinished. Someone put in a row of fluorescent lights along the ceiling. The furnace room and laundry area were walled off separately and a curtain hung in front of the lone extra toilet next to the washtub. It had been furnished of sorts with a musty rug over the concrete floor and an old couch. An old 1960s coffee table held our drinks and current projects. Victor and Igor and pals played Dungeons and Dragons amidst the cobwebs and must. Igor was enthusiastic about his Society for Creative Anachronism and made chain mail in his spare time. Sure, the basement was grungy, but the grunge meant we didn’t have to worry about feet on the furniture or much of anything else either. We had fun down there, listening to music, planning our weekend escapades, gossiping, chastising and teasing each other.

 As a group we caravanned with Victor and Igor and other friends in the “Grenade” (an old Ford Grenada – two-door, olive green with black vinyl interior) to play Frisbee golf. Yet another night a bunch of us decided we needed to see the new mural, Cincinnatus. The artist Richard Haas, recently completed his trompe l'oeil masterpiece on the side of the downtown Kroger headquarters in celebration of the company centennial. We weren’t quite sure where it was, so we spent an inordinate amount of time cruising one-way streets until we finally found it.

 There was a growing interest in teenage suburban male pyrotechnics. Victor, Igor, David, Moj and Christopher had been enthusiastic about burning gasoline, lighter fluid, kerosene, and paraffin wax. David built model rockets, and played with the rocket engines. Together they built an “apparatus” involving paraffin wax, water and gasoline (?) and set it off in the Moreno’s back yard. We’re lucky no one was ever seriously injured. Sometimes I’d be around, but when the testosterone levels got to be too high, I got outta there and found my girlfriends.

 After our adventures, or to end them, we drove to Skyline, one of several local chili parlor chains. The menu consists of two items, Cincinnati chili and cheese coneys; anything else on the menu is just a variation of those two items. The restaurant we frequented was located at the corner of Clifton and Ludlow Avenues, on the far end of Fraternity Row near the University of Cincinnati campus. It stayed open until 3 or 4 a.m. on weekends, and after the movie, party, or Corral event we often drove down to the eatery to satisfy our hunger pangs. We drove too fast down the hill to get there, under the highway overpass, across the railroad tracks and then we drove too fast up the hill to get there. We parked in the small parking lot and walked around the building to go inside. David ordered a five-way and medium root beer. I ordered a 4-way/bean and a large Coke. Whomever was with us ordered their own, and we laughed and giggled and flirted until our food arrived. Once sated, and finally getting tired, we drove too fast to get home, coasting down the steep narrow curves on the one side and racing back up the wide roadway on the other side.

b�� B

[mbhill612]

My Introduction to Germany: Berlin

I arrived in Berlin’s Tegal airport Sunday evening. It was a long, tiring flight, but I arrived safely and eager to explore. Delilah and I stayed in Alexanderplatz the first two days. This area is on the east side of Berlin, and when we arrived, we saw a large carnival-like square. It had rides, booths, food stations, and stores lined up side-by-side for an entire German square block, which we noticed is about the length of 3 U.S. square blocks. We were too tired and worn out to explore much of this festive area that evening, so we grabbed a bite to eat and went back to the hotel to get a much needed nights rest.

Monday was spent exploring the city. We did get a little lost, but it turned out to be ok because we found so many places that we visited later in the week. Alexanderplatz is a constant party. During the day, it is geared more towards children, but in the evening it transforms into a block party for adults. Late in the afternoon it began to rain, sleet, and snow on us, so we decided to head back to the hotel and spend the evening catching up on sleep and acquainting our bodies to the new time zone. A word to the wise new traveler, arrive at your destination in the evening so your body can adjust and rest when you get there. It will take a day or two to regain your equilibrium.

Tuesday, Delilah and I met the rest of the group at the new hotel. They were very tired, but we needed to keep them moving and awake so they could get their bodies used to the new time zone. We went to eat breakfast at a bakery in the train station and then went to see Victory Column. Along the way, we stopped at the Republic President’s official residence, where he receives national guests. At the tower, we climbed 285 steps to the top balcony. The views were amazing; you could see the entire city. From there we walked through the garden to see the Brandenburg Gate. Both of these experiences were breathtaking monuments. Knowing and understanding the significance behind each of these great monuments was an absolutely moving experience that you can only understand by doing it. After the visit to the Brandenburg Gate, we went back to the hotel so the group could rest. Heike and Laura brought us to a local restaurant right down the street, and we were able to order traditional German meals, along with some American options. Heike and Laura ordered dessert for the whole group to share, and because it was so good and well liked, they made the decision to order it after every meal that week. It is called Kaiserschmarren, and it is torn pancakes served with cherries and topped with powdered sugar. Everyone makes it differently and this restaurant served it with vanilla sauce too.

Wednesday we visited the History of Berlin Museum and the DDR Museum. The History of Berlin Museum was definitely my favorite. Each exhibit was a walk-in experience rather than a behind-the-glass showcase. It led us through the history of Berlin in chronological order, from the original city to its present day status. It was a very artistic rendition of the events that occurred in and around Berlin, including a symbolic low point of the rise of Hitler to power by having it displayed while going down several stories on a staircase. The DDR Museum was the history of East Berlin as told by the German Democratic Republic, which held power in the east and was responsible for the Berlin Wall. It was a much smaller museum, but it was interesting to learn about how life was behind the wall.

Thursday was a full day which started out by an invitation to visit Parliament at the Bundestag. We had the opportunity to listen to a session, but because it was 45 minutes long and in German, we were able to skip the session and go straight up to the Reichstag Dome, which sits stop the Bundestag. It is a clear dome, which actually is the clear ceiling to the room where Parliament sessions are held. It is a symbol showing that the people of Germany are of a higher status than that of the members of Parliament. From there we were given a private tour by employees of a member of Parliament because she was not in Berlin that week. Members of Parliament alternate weeks in Berlin to balance home and work life. We were able to see so many sights that are off limits to the public, including the bridge between buildings, the underground tunnels between buildings, offices of the current leading party, and the Russian graffiti left on the wall to show the history of the building and Berlin. When we finished our tour and lunch at the Bundestag, we went back to the Brandenburg Gate on the way to the Berlin Wall Memorial Museum. It is one of the last standing pieces of the original wall, and is the section that is most in tact. Most people don’t know that the wall was made up of several layers on the east, to prevent people from escaping to the west. It truly was heart-wrenching to see and hear what people had to endure during those decades of entrapment and separation from their families.

Friday was a tough day emotionally. We went to Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp, as we requested. Thinking about the request to go, I don’t think I fully understood what I would encounter, even though I had in depth knowledge of the Holocaust time period and the horror that went along with it. I was not prepared for the deep sense of sadness and death that hit you as soon as you walked through the gates. It was as if a heavy weight hit you when you entered the gates of Sachsnhausen, and it was very difficult to listen to the events that took place on the grounds I walked on. There was a point in the tour that I had to stop listening to the earpiece that we were given and even some buildings that I couldn’t walk through, because of the heavy sorrow I felt. When we left Sachsenhasuen, we went to the Holocaust Memorial, which is located right near the Brandenburg Gate, on the other side of the U.S. Embassy (which is right next to the gate). At first glance, the memorial looked like insignificant rows or rocks in the middle of  square. However, after walking through the memorial, it became very clear how appropriate the design was. From the outside, you can’t see the uneven ground in between the rocks, and as you go further in, the rocks get taller. It almost felt suffocating as I walked further in. I’m not sure if it was because we had just left the concentration camp, but it was very emotional and I couldn’t spend a lot of time in the memorial. From the memorial, we walked the half of a mile to Checkpoint Charlie. As we walked up, it looked like a mob scene in the middle of the street. It was very much a tourist attraction, but it was located in the middle of a very busy street. We had a very taxing day, so we didn’t stay long; we decided to take a few pictures and go to dinner.

On Saturday we were looking forward to a fun day in Potsdam, a town about a half an hour (on the train) south of Berlin. Heike and Laura prepared a scavenger hunt through the city for us. We were teamed up into pairs and given a list of places in the city and a map and set loose. It was a lot of fun, even though it started to rain/sleet/snow on us in the middle of the day. After a little while the sun came back out and we continued on our way. One of the sites was a famous cafe that we had to stop and eat at, so luckily we were at that point when it started raining. We spent the whole day in Potsdam, ending at the Schloss Sanssouci, the summer home of Friedrich the Great (Friedrich II) and the beautiful gardens that surround it.

This week had so many educational moments that I can take back to my classroom. I think one that really stuck with me is finding a happy medium between giving students work on field trips to ensure they are going through and learning versus allowing them to freely walk through and not discover anything. We were given work to do while in the museums, but I found myself going into rooms to find the answers instead of going and learning all the rich history and interesting facts in that room. It is a fine point that will come with practice, but it was something that I would have never thought about before.