No, I Will Not Fix Your Computer

Source: ThinkGeek

Yesterday afternoon I had an appointment with my neurologist, who I only go to see so I can get my drugs for a previously diagnosed neurological condition. Whilst, he is a lovely old guy I actually don’t trust him to diagnose anything. When I first went to see him last year, I brought all my medical files with me so he could read the entire case history of my condition. He didn’t even bother to read them. That set alarm bells ringing. In my appointment yesterday, the third appointment I have had with him, he asked me what neurological condition I had. Do you perhaps understand why I only trust him to write a prescription?

Anyway, during this appointment, he asked me what I do for a living. Now explaining what I actually do for a living causes people’s eyes to glaze over so I simplify it as Tech Support. It is Tech Support, but in an extremely niche section of IT and it does not involve fixing people’s computers.

About an hour after my appointment I get a call from my neurologist. I immediately think perhaps there was some mistake on the prescription he wrote me, but no, he actually wants me to come back to his office to fix his computer. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on but it required some kind of password which he didn’t have. I had to explain to him that I don’t know how to fix computers. But my biggest issue with it was that, in my opinion, it was inappropriate. Sure, if I had a long-standing and friendly relationship with him it might have been fine, but for someone who had seen me three times for a grand total of at most 30 minute, no, it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

What are your views on this? Is it okay for medical professionals to use their patients as a free computer helpline? Or for free tax advice or free legal advice? Or whatever their patients might do for a living? Or do you think that there exists a professional boundary there?


As Heard On The BBC


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Français : Logo de la station de radio britann...

Photo credit: Wikipedia

Life is weird. Yesterday, however, life became a little weirder than it normally is when I received an email from a producer at the BBC World Service Radio wanting to know if I would participate in a live debate that evening thanks to a blog post I had written that a grand total of 43 people (at that time) had read.

I initially turned the offer down as the debate was scheduled to start at 7pm and I was doing sound for a performance of Twelfth Night that began at 7:30pm. But she begged me to come on for 5 minutes and I agreed I would if they could promise I would be done by 7:15pm. Unfortunately due to the time constraint I didn’t get to debate anyone (damn!) but I said my piece & responded to what had been said previously & hopefully didn’t embarrass myself.

The theme of the debate (in case you didn’t click on the link to the post) was Bob Geldof re-releasing ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas?’. The debate participants were a showbiz reporter for the Guardian, a woman who runs an organization promoting African culture & me, who, let’s face it, is hopelessly unqualified to speak about this topic.

I actually had quite a bit of fun, after I stopped freaking out about it being my first time on radio and it being the bloody BBC. I wish I had more time honestly, especially since the woman from the African culture organisation (I think that’s where she was from, I was busy freaking out at the time) was making excellent points and I would have loved to have asked her some questions about them.  If I ever get the chance again to participate in a radio show, I would definitely seize it.

I have no idea in the slightest how the BBC found my rant on my tiny insignificant blog. It’s just so absurd when you think about it. Still, something to tick off my bucket list.

Why You Shouldn’t Support Band Aid


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In 1984, the pop greats of the time lead by Bob Geldof got together to release ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas?’ to raise money for the famine in Africa and in doing so they released the most offensive song meant to inspire compassion ever written. It is a song that reeks of white Western privilege. This song is getting a re-release to raise money for the Ebola crisis in West Africa and while they say the song is getting a tweak to make it reflect the Ebola crisis I wonder if anyone has realised how offensive this song was in the first place.

I was 9 when the song was released and it immediately annoyed me.  Mainly because 9 year old Aussie me was offended by the line – ‘And there won’t be snow in Africa this Christmastime’ There is never any snow in Australia at Christmastime either, but we damn well knew it is Christmas. Snow doesn’t equal Christmas around the entire world.

Also, the continent of Africa is roughly 45% Muslim.  That means that around half of the population don’t celebrate Christmas in any form, therefore them not knowing it’s Christmas is no hardship whatsoever. So, you know, points lost for cultural sensitivity there.

Then there were just lines like ‘And the Christmas bells that ring there
Are the clanging chimes of doom‘ and ‘Where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears‘ which were just ridiculously over the top.

If these weren’t bad enough, then there comes the most offensive lyric ever that I still can’t believe it exists. ‘Well tonight thank God it’s them instead of you‘. Now it is a natural reaction to be thankful that you yourself are not starving to death, but to be thankful that someone else is?  How the fuck is this line, in any context, okay?? I’m appalled that anyone thinks that this line was not only okay, but totally appropriate to be in a song raising money for people who were starving to death.

Therefore, I urge you to tell your friends and family, not to buy this song. Ignore their pleas that everyone needs to buy this song to donate money to help fight Ebola. You don’t. There are plenty of worthy charities out there fighting the good fight against Ebola.  If you have a couple of euros spare, then please give them to Doctors Without Borders – either here in Germany or in the US or in the UK or Australia. Your money will go to an organisation who have been there since the beginning of the outbreak and doesn’t attempt to cash in on outdated and offensive stereotypes and sentiments while increasing their public profile.


When The Wall Fell



It was 1989 when the Berlin Wall fell.  I remember watching it on the evening news in Australia.  I was 14 years old. I remember being excited by the images I saw, the celebrations, people embracing and crying. I had a pen friend in Germany at the time. I wrote to her asking her what she felt about the wall finally falling. I never heard back from her.

I never expected 25 years later, I would be living in Germany and watching those same images on TV again, but this time with the news anchors speaking German instead of English. As a 14 year old, I wouldn’t have dreamt that this would be my life, living here and trying my hardest to integrate into German life.

Where were you when the Wall fell? Is your life anything like you imagined it would be a quarter of a century ago?

Making Pumpkin Soup: An Experiment In Being Domestic



On cold winter nights one of my favourite soups to eat is pumpkin soup which can be found in the canned soup aisle of every single supermarket in Australia.  However, when I moved to Germany, I discovered that they don’t really do canned soups and of their very limited range, pumpkin was not one of the soups available. Also, to add insult to injury, pumpkins are not available all year round as they are in Australia, but instead are available for a month or two at the beginning of autumn before disappearing until the following year.

After four years of having pumpkin soup very rarely, I decided that it was high time that I learnt to make it myself and so I headed off to Saturn to buy a blender.

Isn’t it just gorgeous?

Once armed with the all important blender, I could get down to the business of making my first ever batch of home-made pumpkin soup. It is probably prudent at this point to point out that I am not one of those people that is a wizard in the kitchen. I can cook a couple of meals that keep me feed throughout the year, but that is about it. Therefore making pumpkin soup from scratch was going to be venturing into new territory for me.

I procured two pumpkins

Pumpkin #1

and cut them up to roast in the oven

and roasted them for about 40 minutes at 180C (and yes, I had to google how long & at what temperature to roast pumpkin – hush, now).

Once roasted it is supposed to be easy to remove the skin. Obviously the people that said that removing the skin was easy had never met someone with my lack of fine motor skills. I was able to, in the end, separate the pumpkin from the skin, but it did involve quite a lot of mess plus some skin ended up in the blender with the pumpkin. I like to think of this as adding a rustic look to my soup.

After some trial and mostly error, I discovered I needed to add about half a cup of vegetable stock to the pumpkin to get it to purée in the blender. But after roasting and puréeing both pumpkins, I was left with saucepan full of pumpkin purée.

To this I added about 100mL of soy cream, because when one is as lactose intolerant as me you don’t have the luxury of using the real stuff. Also, I had some previously made pumpkin spice, so I added some of that as well to give it some extra flavour.

After about 10 mins or so on the stove top, I was rewarded with about 2 litres of delicious pumpkin soup, some of which I put in a bowl and ate immediately.

With the remaining amount I decided to be really clever and put it into individually portioned ziplock bags so that I could just get the amount out I needed rather than unfreezing all 2 litres when I wanted just a bowl full. This was a great idea, but I forgot to take into account my lack of motor skills, so whilst I did end up with 4 ziplock bags full of soup, I also ended getting a fair amount of it down the outside of the bags and all over the kitchen counter. But here are the cleaned up bags all ready to go into the freezer. I decided to place them into a container in case I have a freezer bag explosion or something. Knowing me, this could well happen.

I now need to go out and buy many pumpkins before the end of the season so that I can make a supply of pumpkin soup that might have a chance of lasting me at least halfway through winter, cause I can see these 4 bags going in about a week or so.



Weekly Wrap-Up


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This is a new section looking at the interesting, hilarious and odd things I have discovered in the previous 7 days.


This wonderful TED talk by author Pico Iyer titled ‘Where is Home?’ beautifully sums up what quite a few of us living this expat life feel.


I spent my late teens, my 20s & a good portion of my 30s gaming.  I gave up mainly so I would actually leave my apartment when I moved to Germany.  Still gaming is close to my heart even though I no longer play.  Therefore, GamerGate is something that is also important for me mainly because it has wide reaching effects beyond the gaming community to how women are generally treated online. If you have no idea what GamerGate is, read this.

Felicia Day, whose reputation as an actress, writer and online personality, made her mark through gaming and what she has to say about GamerGate is, in my opinion, highly representative of other female gamers – and also deeply heartbreaking.


It’s not quite Halloween yet, but here is a 1 minute short film to get you into the mood.  It is deeply unsettling.


Anyone who knows me (or has read my Twitter feed) knows that I’m a huge Marvel fangirl.  The trailer for Avengers: Age of Ultron was released yesterday which has me at a level of excitement which words can not accurately describe.

Meeting Neil Gaiman


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Neil Gaiman at the Literaturhaus Hamburg

Hamburg, whilst it is the second largest city in Germany, is not the city most artists visit, if they happen to visit Germany at all.  Berlin, Munich and perhaps Frankfurt or Cologne is where they go. But rarely, they do decide to venture off the usual itinerary and that’s what happened last night when Neil Gaiman paid a visit to the Literaturhaus in Hamburg to promote the release of the German translation of his novel The Ocean At The End Of The Lane.

I had seen Neil Gaiman do a reading in Sydney about 5 years prior. There was over 100 people packed into a bookstore hanging on every word he said. Neil is one of those rare authors who can not only write amazing books but can narrate them as well. His voice is like liquid chocolate, the only disappointment being when he stops. On that visit to Sydney, I was way too nervous to get a book signed by him. I have fears of saying really stupid shit to people that I admire. However, I wasn’t going to let my fears get the better of me this time.

Neil’s appearance at the Literaturhaus was in a way the same as any author event. There was a moderator asking questions, the author answering them and then the author reading some of their promoted book to the audience. However, with the visit to the Literaturhaus, there was an extra twist. It was assumed that whilst some of the people in the audience might speak English, all of them could speak German so the event was bilingual. The moderator asked Neil questions in English and Neil answered them in his typical storytelling way and then the moderator tried to paraphrase what Neil had said in German. Quite a few details got lost in translation and the moderator added some of her own, but it worked for the most part. The only drawback is that we didn’t get to hear Neil read very much as most of the reading was done by the man who had translated The Ocean At The End of The Lane into German. This, of course, made sense, but given that I could listen to Neil read for hours on end, I would have liked to have heard him read more and the translator read less.

What was wonderful about the Literaturhaus event was the numbers were limited, perhaps just slightly over 50 people there. This made the event feel very intimate and it also meant that the line to get a book signed was not very long. Neil was kind and gracious with every single person getting a book signed, taking the time to have an actual conversion with them. The two girls before me had a discussion about the current Doctor Who series and I in a rare moment of not embarrassing myself completely admitted that I had chickened out of meeting him in Sydney 5 years prior and he asked me lots of wonderful questions about why I was in Germany and how I was finding learning German whilst he signed my copy of Neverwhere.

Given I have the urge to read Neverwhere whenever I travel on the London Tube, the inscription was pure perfection.

Now that I know that English language authors do indeed visit Hamburg from time to time, I’m going to keep a lookout to see if any of my other favourite authors decide to pay us visit. I’m also going to hold out hope that Neil Gaiman will return to Hamburg in the future cause I have quite a number of his books that I would love to get signed.


Weekly Wrap-Up


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This is a new section looking at the interesting, hilarious and odd things I have discovered in the previous 7 days.


In a country where it is dangerous to be a girl, some families are raising their girls as boys.


If you love history, especially history about medicine, then check out the You Tube series Under The Knife which is dedicated to the horrors of pre-anaesthetic surgery


A mother in the US bakes vagina cookies for her 7 year old’s 2nd grade class and becomes irate and abusive when the teacher explains that they are not appropriate.

A store in the Philippines thought pro-rape T-shirts were a good idea to sell. (Link in German, but it does contain photo of said shirt, for your outrage).

Four Years On


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Seal of Hamburg, ca. 1245

Seal of Hamburg, ca. 1245 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In trying to formulate my thoughts on my fourth anniversary of living in Germany, I re-read the posts I wrote for Year One, Year Two and Year Three. One thing that has remained constant is that I have loved being here – and that fact remains true. I love the quality of life that living in Hamburg affords me and the opportunities I have here. Hamburg has become a mixture of the familiar and the unfamiliar allowing me to feel both at home and a stranger in a strange land. There is enough strangeness to jolt me out of complacency but not so much that I feel overwhelmed.

This is the first year where I feel that I am slowly beginning the process of integration. My German has developed to the point where it is functional and I can finally start taking part in activities that are not conducted in English. My German still has a hell of a long way to go until I am completely proficient and not constantly stumbling over the grammar and searching for words, but I feel I can now see the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s like I have graduated from the wadding pool and can now splash around the shallow end but the deep end is still beyond my current abilities.

This year has been tough in many ways but perhaps it was a toughness that I needed to experience in order to work out my priorities and the areas that still need much more work in my life. Perhaps Year Five will be when I get it all together or it could take a little longer than that.

Still I love the little life I have made for myself here in Hamburg. I have managed to surround myself with good people and I am so grateful to have them in my life and am appreciative of the lessons they have taught me. In the four years I have been here I have changed and grown as a person. The person that left Australia four years ago is not the same person I am now, not completely. Germany has changed me, but it is a change I feel good about.

I can’t wait to see what Year Five has in store for me. Hopefully improved German skills as well as a deeper understanding and appreciation of German culture whilst still retaining my curiosity for the unknown and a thirst for the unusual.

An Evening of German Theatre


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Credit: Klaus Lefebvre, Deutsches Schauspielhaus Hamburg

Yesterday morning I received a text message from my friend Eddie inviting me to see that evening’s performance of Henrik Ibsen’s John Gabriel Borkman at the Schauspielhaus. I will admit to having no idea who Ibsen was and never having heard of the play before, but I still seized the chance to go and experience my first ever German play. That’s right, despite having performed theatre in Germany, I had never been to see a real German theatre production. Most of that has to do with the ever-present language barrier, but I figured I now knew enough German to make sense of the general storyline and if my German completely failed me then at least I could enjoy the spectacle of it all.

I wasn’t really thinking it would be a spectacle but honestly that is the best way I could describe what I saw. Actually that’s a lie. The most honest description would be ‘What the fuck did I just witness?’. It’s a question I’m still struggling to answer this morning. Now I’ve seen many a modern interpretation of a classical play, but even this doesn’t quite seem to cover what I witnessed last night. The best I can come up with is that it was a modern interpretation by someone who was taking a whole bunch of drugs at the time. Apparently weird and distinctly odd interpretations of well-known or classical plays seems to be more of the rule than the exception in German theatre. Most people I’ve spoken to have had very similar experiences seeing German productions of plays ranging from God of Carnage to A Streetcar Named Desire.

For this production a family drama taking place in a house in the 1890s had been transported to what could best be described as an underground concrete bunker inhabited by strange zombie-like school girls who kept randomly walking into walls and actors that kept putting on and removing rubber masks for no apparent reasons halfway through lines of dialogue. There was also a character who spoke some of her lines in English and would randomly switch between German and English halfway through sentences. I think the point was that she was supposed to be a foreigner, but it just added another layer of surrealness to the whole thing. However it was rather handy for getting me up to speed with some of the more stranger parts of the actual storyline.

The only positive thing about the whole event was how many young people were there. We got very cheap tickets, just €5, through the Goethe Institute and I’m guessing other schools offer something similar. Getting young people exposed to theatre, no matter how damn odd it is, is just brilliant and something I wished happened more in Australia. Imagine letting students see plays for just $5 in Sydney??  That would just never happen.

Despite all the weirdness or maybe because of it, I would love to see more German theatre, especially if I can get really cheap tickets. It was just such a mind boggling experience that I feel the urge to repeat, cause let’s face it, I’m never going to see theatre of this level of weird anywhere else in the world.


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