The #1 Reason I Miss Having a Boyfriend (Perhaps the Only?)

FREE BACK RUBS.

I was reminded of this today after my little adventure called, Rachael Gets a Haircut in Germany. You can picture the accompanying Dick and Jane illustration, right? Rachael/Jane is looking quite shaggy. She then learns from perusing the dictionary with Dick that she must be on the lookout for the word, Friseur. But then she suddenly comes to her senses. She realizes that there is no way in hell she's going to walk into a German salon and mistakenly allow a non-English speaker to sheer her hair into some crazy crew cut due to her inability to say "short but not too short."

Enter the Toytown website where someone recommended the Holfeld Friseure and Spa. I cannot say enough about these folks. Tucked away in a lovely Prenzlauer Berg neighborhood, this Aveda salon/spa is staffed with English speakers. I had the amazing luck of walking in yesterday afternoon and finding that I could come back in a few hours for a haircut.

When I returned, in good Aveda fashion, I was given a cup of tea (highly appreciated after checking out the sights of the former east for three hours) and then, I was asked if I might like a little shoulder massage. I seriously don't think that the sweet young man had the words out of his mouth before I exclaimed, ever so brightly, "YES!"

And then, ahhhhh...hands digging into my shoulders. Then the neck. Oh, my god, the head, too? I wanted to fall asleep sitting up. Yes, please, more! I stopped myself from begging when he tapped my shoulders, that little sign for Yep, we're all done here.

As I looked at my reflection in the mirror, my flushed cheeks and tousled hair, I couldn't help but smile. "Mmmm...thank you," I murmured in a way that looking back, may have been a bit disconcerting to this poor guy who was just doing his job, for goodness sake.

Anyway, those five minutes reminded me how much I miss that aspect of relationships. It's just sort of an unspoken rule, right? You dole out the massages to your significant other knowing full well that you're gonna get them in return. (Otherwise, what's the flipping point?) And aside from a few doltish boyfriends who didn't know what they were doing, the trade was usually worth it. Strange how I don't really miss hand holding or cuddling but some strong hands on my shoulders and neck? Wowee...what a tease you were, Mr. Salon Man.

By the way, the owner of the salon ended up cutting my hair. He spoke perfect English and understood exactly what I wanted, even though I didn't really know myself. Awesome. I walked out with a cropped, sassy haircut, relaxed shoulders, and memories of old boyfriends, the good along with the bad.

But then I returned home to a warm kitchen with soup on the stove, a kind friend, and a goofy baby and those old boyfriend memories flew right out the window. I was quickly reminded how content I am with my life right now, solo in that non-partner way but surrounded by wonderful friends and family, even when I'm halfway around the world from most of them. Would I like to have some fun dating experiences? Sure. But for now, I prefer to pay someone to massage my shoulders rather than enter into anything new. Or maybe I'll just make the baby start walking on my back. That works, too.

Who Knew That Being Green Could Be So Hot?

I am all about businesses enticing their customers to be more green but this is really quite creative. I hadn't realized that the world's oldest profession was also suffering a hit in this crappy economy. Next step: sending their customers home with a little potted plant? I can see it now...tree huggers with a little spring in their step.

Sloping It

Check out my latest piece on Hip Slope Mama regarding the terrible, horrible, oh-my-god-why-do-you-hate-me-so two's.

Although I’ve taken care of many kids throughout the years, I’m never fully prepared for the frustration of the defiant toddler. I’ve seen even-tempered little ones undergo the most rapid personality changes, leading one to question if some little demon had burrowed in. My toddler niece fascinates me with her ability to play happily one second, then become red-faced and spout irrational tears the next. And Ethan, my normally obedient two-year-old charge, has recently decided that he is going to “forget” every rule that he had previously learned. In fact, he seems to have identified several Rachael pushing buttons and I, in turn, have learned what really turns my crank.

One recent afternoon, Ethan was definitely displaying some testing behaviors (i.e. doing the polar opposite of everything I had asked of him). However, as the day progressed, he seemed to be shaping up so I allowed him to take his new scooter outside. After several blocks of good behavior, I decided it was only fair to reward him on a warm, sunny day with some ice cream. Still donning his adorable dome shaped helmet, we sat on the steps of the Tasti-Delight, sharing a melting cup of vanilla soft serve.

As he proceeded to dump the remaining bit, I said, “All right. Let’s get going to the park!” at which he jumped up and yelled, “More ice cream!”

“You just had ice cream, silly!” I laughed. “Another day.” Now I don’t know if there was any correlation between the ice cream and the crack-like induced state that followed but here’s what happened:

Even though he didn’t tantrum or even really complain, within seconds, the horns surfaced. After scooting a few feet down the sidewalk, he suddenly stopped, dropped the scooter and just started running! The kid was greased lightning, I do not jest. I bolted and managed to grab him by the collar which made me feel like sort of bow-tied store clerk from the 50’s who was going to teach “those darn hoodlum thieves a lesson!” I pulled him close to me, got down to his level, and said, “What are you doing? You can’t run off like that!” while pointing at the cars that were “very, VERY dangerous!” I thought it registered in his expression. He looked solemn enough. A bit remorseful, too? Or so I thought…

For the whole story, click here.

Give Me My Internet or Give Me Death!

Sorry for the lack of posts, friends. I was without the internet for about twenty hours and if felt like my life stood still.

Yes, like when I first arrived, we are having problems again. We seem to be the proud parents of a very temperamental internet connection. However, unlike two weeks ago, this time Jack's mom got to freak out with me.

We unplugged, replugged, blew dust out of every crevice we could find, sent a panicked message to the dude we are subletting from, called German friends begging for help, and finally contemplated buying a bottle of gin and drinking our sorrows away. We were at a complete loss. No cell phones. No email. No skype. Even though we have a land phone line, most of the phone numbers of my German friends are saved in my google account. (Making mental note to copy down on paper momentarily...)

Of course, either one of us could have walked two blocks to the local internet cafe but we were too damn mad to do it. We are supposed to have a wireless connection here! Technology must not fail us! Ever!

After a good two hours of ranting and raving about how unfair life is, we decided that we needed to just ignore the problem for the rest of the night before insanity ensued. I mean, there is a baby involved.

The night ended with her going to bed at nine o'clock because she didn't know what else to do with herself and me, heading out to dance the night away.

Today, we woke up praying to find the green light blinking at us, a "Hey! I'm ready for you again!" message but alas, nothing. Jack's mom received a phone call back from a German friend who gave us some information about the local internet service provider. We both ended up talking to the English speaking (THANK CHRIST!) German representative who spoke to us so politely and so patiently that I could only envision him sitting behind his desk with a pair of wings attached and a halo looming over his headset. He was able to register both of our laptops so that we could at least connect via the ethernet cable. He told us the router was shot.

After we got off the phone, we sat stared at one another from across the coffee table, she with her Mac and me with my PC.

"I guess we're gonna have to make appointments to use the internet," she half joked as I tried to compute how difficult this would be for two individuals who both desperately rely on an internet connection on an hourly basis.

As I held my head in my hands, she started to laugh. I looked up to find a quizzical expression on her face. "Oh my god," she said. "I have a wireless connection."

"Don't tease me!" I screeched, grabbing my laptop. Sure enough. Suddenly, we were both reconnected.

"How? Wait...what?" I could only sputter.

And then like kids on Christmas morning, we giddily opened up email accounts, checked Facebook, and continued life as know it. I feel like a real human again, a person who can communicate with the outside world. I can even blog again.

Wow, absolutely pathetic, huh? Yes, I know. Funny thing, though, is that with just twenty four hours away from the internet, I have a shitload of emails to catch up on, skype calls to make, plane tickets to book...I really do rely on the internet so much to complete every day, normal tasks. It's absolutely terrifying when it's suddenly gone.

However, it also reminds you of the fun and amusement you can connect to without a cable of any sort. Speaking of, I hear a little person babbling to his mama in the other room. I think I might have to go play with his drooly self for a bit.

Later, folks (I hope). Pray to the Gods of Technology for me!

Put the Bread Down NOW!

For the past year, I've been trying to get on top of my fatigue issues by experimenting with my diet. I have a strong suspicion that gluten and sugar could be the culprits so I've been doing my best to reduce my intake of both. I'm not doing so well with the sugar thing (take my cookies and I'll break your arm) but I've managed to cut out an amazing amount of gluten products.

And then I arrived in Germany.

There's all sorts of talk about the french baguette which I am not going to deny, is pretty damn fantastic. I have very fond memories of devouring one with a block of cheese under the Eiffel Tower many moons ago. However, I am quickly learning how awesome the German breads are and just how damn accessible they are! There's a godforsaken backerei on every block which I swear, sadistically opens its ventilation system ever time I walk by.

This week has been particularly bad. It started with the rolls at Sunday brunch coupled with cheese and jam. Mmmm... Then I decided to buy a loaf of that wonderfully dark, hearty bread that reminded me of Hartter's brownies. Milwaukee, do you remember these blocks of heaven? The turtle brownies in particular?? They were like bricks...well, bricks of rich, gooey goodness that almost broke your wrist when you snatched them from the cashier. Anyway, that is what this loaf of bread is like...chock full of seeds and nuts and all sorts of things that probably helped someone go plow a field at one time, not sit on her ass and blog.

Shortly after that, I made a wonderful, creamy soup from scratch and well, you just cannot not have some warm fresh bread next to that for dipping!

And yesterday, Jack and his mom arrived so I had to buy a loaf of her favorite: a nutty, seedy organic type that makes me have to floss every six seconds.

And because it's now cold and blustery, I decided that there's nothing better than warm, vanilla, cinnamon speckled bread pudding so I dropped everything to whip up a pot of that. (And how divine it will be coupled with delicious, dark coffee brought by Jack's mom all the way from Brooklyn!)

So anyway, I've been on a bread bender and I think I felt the need to confess to it. But I'm sort of on vacation and isn't this the kind of stuff you get to do when you are away from home? It wouldn't be so bad if I ate like a glutton the whole time I was in Germany as long as I promised myself to get back on the wagon when I got back to the States, right??

Another cold, dark morning. Hot, teeth staining coffee on the way. Perhaps I will have some muesli with yogurt. And perhaps I will ignore that half pot of bread pudding in the fridge or the remaining baguette on the counter. Or maybe I will remind myself that when in Rome...

It's Always Nice to Know You're Missed

After being a cat owner for a decade or so, it's really strange not to hear a little meow on the other side of the door as I fumble with my apartment keys. And I can't help but be a little sad that my clothes are gradually becoming lint free.

Luckily, I have an awesome roomie and subletter back in Brooklyn who are taking very good care of Baxter the Cat while I'm gone. I mean, seriously...how many people would take the time to send a photo like this, just to make me laugh?

Thanks, ladies.

Stupid American

Dear Faithful Readers,

I hate to admit it but I feel like "Stupid American" could become a regular column. I could easily chart all of the experiences that lead me to feel like an idiot on a regular basis while in foreign lands. God knows I will never forget the ungodly amount of time it took me to figure out how to close the blinds in my Madrid apartment. Dumb, dumb, dumb...

Anyway, considering that we are easing into a new week, I don't think my self-esteem is quite ready for a good flogging yet. I think I'll keep it simple for now.

Oh, Germany, I love you so but sometimes you scare the dickens out of me, especially your...

1) Trams.

This is something that the bulk of Americans are not used to. In fact, we don't even call them trams. We refer to them as streetcars or those cute-as-a-button trolleys of San Fran. Anyway, for those of you who know me, you can attest to my tendency to be well, a bit oblivious to my surroundings at time. Actually, let me clarify. When I need to be on, I can read body language like nobody's business and quickly react to it. Is she nervous? Is he angry? Is that dude gonna try to swipe my purse?

However, when it comes to general daily life on the street, I'm not so good. I've had friends yelling at me, trying to get my attention but it won't be until they step right in front of me that I actually notice them. I guess, most days, I'm just too much in my head.

Throw in the crazy stimulation of a new city and well, well...a big pink elephant could be dancing around and I would only notice the cake shop two feet ahead.

So let's combine this inattentiveness of mine with the trams in Berlin. Do you see where this is going?

I remember my mom having a similar experience in Germany when she was a young lady, bumming around Europe. She and her friend had rented a car and as Americans from rural Wisconsin, didn't quite notice all of those tram tracks. They were too busy reading the map and in the process, almost got themselves flattened out.

For me, I was standing in the median (because New Yorkers cannot wait for the "walk" sign and will dodge across the street, even if it means only getting halfway), observing the traffic flow from the other direction. It was slowing down and as I leaned forward, a mere second from touching my little toes to the street, I was almost knocked over by the wind of a tram zipping by from the opposite direction.

People, this thing was clipping along, a whole six inches from me and I didn't even hear the thing coming or see it zoom by. I felt the air and then it was gone.

Meanwhile, my heart was in my throat. I know my mom worries about me when I travel abroad but it's due to me meeting so many strangers. I highly doubt that she worries about her youngest being taken out by a tram. Or maybe she does because sometimes, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Your faithful correspondent (tucked safely away in her apartment),

Rachael