Missing Beer

I never thought that I would say this; but, I miss beer. Not mass produced American beer, the swill that tastes like water gone bad and gives me a headache without the buzz. No, I miss better beer than that.

I miss a good, dark German herbal beer. I miss ordering a meter board of it to share around the table. I miss the camaraderie of the first drink, where you had to drink as much of it in one go as you could, with the goal of getting as close to the “line” of the meter board holding the glasses as you could. Going under the line was an automatic loss, otherwise whoever was the furthest away would be the loser. And of course the loser always bought the next round. Each board cost about 15 euros, and for the amount of beer you got, it was a fabulous deal.

I miss a good German Weissen. Light, crisp, refreshing. I miss sitting at a table full of handballers and watching them order, one after another Colaweissen, Colaweissen, Radlerweissen. See, in Germany it’s perfectly acceptable to mix your beer with Cola, Radler (lemonade), or even fruit juice. B tried all types of Weissen mixes while we lived there. You can even by both Colaweissen and Radlerweissen in bottles from the stores. And they do both mixes with Pils too. Most handball games that were won, ended with a victory celebration that involved this oh-so-German drink.

I miss the Belgian Lambic beers. Those were the first “real” beers that I tried. A good friend in Houston talked me into trying a Framboise out one night. Another time, two Scottish business men bought me some half-pints of a couple of different lambics to try out. And then there’s going to Belgium and actually drinking them. Long nights up in Bruges drinking with friends and friends of friends. Laughter abounded. We bounced from bar to bar and passed the drinks around as we tried Honey, cherry, mango, peach, strawberry, raspberry, and chocolate lambics. Personal favorites were declared, but it didn’t matter we still shared them all anyway. There was no fear in Belgium of being made fun of for drinking a light, crisp, and fruity beer. It’s part of who they are.

Sometimes I wonder if I miss beer so much or if I really just miss the people and experiences. Or if it’s some part of both. Sometimes it seemed in Germany that you couldn’t separate the people from the drinks. Weekends involved nights out at a favorite pub or bar and sharing rounds with friends. My memories of the beers are irrevocably intertwined with my memories of the people. Our first night out with Coach and our last night out with Coach involved many rounds of Colaweissen. Our nights out with some of our closesst friends almost always involved a meter board of beer. And the lambics? Well, I’m pretty sure that I bleed Framboise, or would if I was given my druthers.

These people, these places, these drinks, have left an indelible mark upon my soul. I wouldn’t have it any other way, but tonight? I am missing beer.

~The Countess~

The Scintilla Project: Forever Friend

It was one of those sunny days, so well known from childhood. The kind that never ended as was perfect in every way. The anticipation was buzzing through our little group, a new girl was coming today. We were all clustered together, looking up and down the street, waiting for her car to pull up. When it did, we swarmed the car, and she wouldn’t get out. So we, frustratingly, painfully, backed up. She did eventually get out, but she wouldn’t say anything, just clung to her mother. I saw in her eyes though, that hungering to break free of her own shyness and be friends. We were called inside and she immediately crawled under a table to escape the chaos. I followed. There, huddled in a church basement, under a table and chairs, we were shocked to meet a soul mate. A forever friend.

Long days at each other’s homes, long weekends plotting together. Bouncing on the trampoline, swimming in the pool, sitting on top of her suburban singing along to the Dixie Chicks. I was two years her senior, so when I was eligible to join a local youth group, I went hesitatingly. My first question to the leader of this group of six, was if I could bring my friend along. He said yes, so she came. Funny, in later years I would actually grieve that decision, but at the time I was elated. We did everything together. We even dated brother’s when we were in high school.

And then I did the unthinkable. I broke up with the boy I’d loved for so long. Turns out that he made a much better imaginary boyfriend than a real one. Not long later, we were at a big youth conference. It was a day that I don’t think I will ever forget. I was standing near my friend’s boyfriend, and he whispers to me that she had something she had to tell me. Something big, I needed to go ask her about it right away. We’d been drifting apart since I was no longer dating her boyfriend’s brother, but forever friends are forever, right? I walked up to her and a group of four or five other girls, I told her that he had told me to ask her something. Her reply cut me to pieces. Why would I have anything to tell you, she asked, why would I want you to know anything. As I walked away, she said something and the other girls laughed. My heart was broken. I don’t remember the rest of the night, just taking deep breaths so they wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

I quit going to the youth group. I quit spending time with anyone my age. I couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t trust. The part of me that believed that people actually wanted to be my friend died that day. I’m not sure it has ever been the same since. I struggle to think that I am actually wanted in any group situation. Even one like the scintilla project. I feel safer lurking on the outside, because if I don’t let you too close, then you can’t ever hurt me like that again. Even as I long to be at the center like I was the first day I met her.

But no story is complete without an epilogue. And even though the scars are still there, the continuation of this story helped with their healing and fading. It had to have been at least four years. I was in between college and grad school. She was getting divorced from the same boy she’d dated back in high school. I sent her a message, that turned into a lunch date. We are no longer the little girls who hid under tables together, but somewhere in the pains of growing up and apart, we did find our way back. We send messages every now and then, get together when either of us is in the area, and support each other in both being military wives now. No story ever writes itself the way the author plans. Forever friends we may not be, but behind the healing, before the damage, we were just two little girls looking to belong.

~The Countess~

Where is the outcry?

The College of Santa Fe is facing having to close their doors. After a deal to have the university’s debts assumed by Laureate fell through, the school thought it had found a solution in being purchased by Highland University. The only problem is that before Highland, a New Mexico state school, can purchase the College of Santa Fe, a private school, the New Mexico State Legislature has to pass a bill allowing the state school to acquire both the school and the land it sits on. The Governor specifically asked Highland to not purchase the land that CSF sits on until the government has passed the bill. CSF was counting on the purchase of the land to help them hold over financially until the purchase of the school could go through. Now, they are having to let faculty and staff go and they’re incouraging their students to look into other options for education afer this semester.

Why isn’t this all over the news? Where is the outcry over this?

Our news is filled with news about trashy celebrity relations; about unwed, unemployed mothers having octuplets; about car companies asking for more money. And here is a university that is facing it’s downfall, students facing the loss of their school and stability and it doesn’t even earn a spot on CNN?

CSF could be saved by something as simple as the New Mexico Governor allowing Highland to purchase the land before they pass the law regarding state schools acquiring private schools. His website, http://www.governor.state.nm.us/index2.php has a link where he can be reached by email and his phone number and physical mailing address. I am asking that you respectfully write to him and ask him to reconsider the plight of the College of Santa Fe. It shouldn’t be hard to pass a bill saving a university. A bill saving the students that call CSF home.

If you are wondering, no I am not a CSF alum. My brother is currently a student there. And he, like many CSF students, finally found a place where he belonged there at CSF. I  hate to think that the community he has found there will disappear due to governmental red tape.  The following video was made by students and professors at CSF. And I believe that it beautifully portrays the atmosphere and community of the College of Santa Fe.

If you want to help check out CSF’s official website. And if you think it doesn’t affect you than I ask you to consider this: What if this was your university? Your alma mater? Your family member who found a community hey belong in?

~The Countess~

Weekend Fun

This past weekend was definitely one of the best in recent memory. Despite starting off rocky, thanks to me pmsing (sorry guys), it turned out quite well. First, the Rice football game was really awesome. We won, I got to see some friends from SMU, and play with Baby Dylan from baseball. Plus hang out with some really awesome friends. Second, Kevin Fowler blows my mind. The concert was incredibly awesome. And I got to meet some of the Real Housewives of Harris County. They were really funny. And really loaded. In more ways then one. After the concert we decided that we were having too much fun to call it quits and spent the rest of the night and most of the next day playing out in the suburbs. Huge shout out to Will who beat me at bowling. Sunday was church, lunch, shopping with a friend, nap, batting practice (thanks guys, my arms were killing me today), juggling lessons, dinner, and finally a movie. Monday was a pool party and then Balderdash, where I tied for the lead in lying to my church friends. I’m such an upstanding classy gal.

All of that to say that I had a crazy/busy/fun weekend. And it’s about so much more than the activities. It’s about the people that you do the stuff with. I have been so blessed in the friends that I have made here in H-town. They are absolutely amazing. They are the call up at any time and they’ll be there kind of friends. I really value every friendship that I have made more than I can say. Without them, there would be no weekends filled with this kind of fun.

Marathon Update

Just a quick blurb to say that I’m still planning on running a half-marathon but am facing a couple of obstacles: mainly – the Houston half-marathon is already sold out. I am on the wait list, but I’m pretty far down the list. So, now my friends and I are talking about/planning on running the San Antonio Rock and Roll Marathon in November. Which means that I now have two less months to train for  running 13.1 miles.

We had run #1 on Sunday evening. And I’m still not quite ready to run three continuous miles, but I actually think that I can get there. Now I just have to stay motivated. Which, I’m pretty motivated by feeling bad about slowing down my two running buds. That and the embarrassment about being the slowest person should be pretty good motivation to get better.

~The Countess~

Amy B is coming to visit

My friend Amy B. from Pennsylvania is coming to visit me! I’m so excited. She’ll be coming down in August and staying for a weekend. I cannot wait to see her. Meet her actually.

Amy B. and I met in April of 2005 over on livejournal. We met in a community she started as a fan group for the Irish band Teada. What started as simple messages left every couple of months has turned into phone calls and chatting on the internet multiple times a week. (At least when I have internet access) Three years later though and we still haven’t met in person. But we will in August and I seriously cannot wait. For someone I’ve never seen face-to-face Amy knows a lot about me. And so, 45 days from today I will be picking her up from the airport. Oh the fun we are going to have…and the trouble we’re likely to get into!

~The Countess~