Lentil's First Sex Show

After a couple fo days in exciting Rheine I hopped on a train and headed down to Kaiserslautern to see my old friend A and her family. I've know A since the 11th grade and she joined the Air Force a year after I joined the Navy. She stayed in and has been stationed in Germany for about four years. I hadn't seen her in about three so it was pretty fun hanging out and seeing her and her four kids for a couple of days. I sure wish I'd visited before I got knocked up, though. Visiting a house with four kids ages 8 months to 14 years is the best birth control in the world!!!

After a couple of days hanging out in Kaiserslautern we ditched the kids and A and her husband and I drove up to Amsterdam to meet Q for Memorial Day weekend. If you've never been to Amsterdam, you should go. It's a great city to walk around, hang out with a beer or coffee at a sidewalk cafe, and just watch people. There is also a lot of culture there - the Van Gogh Museum and Rijksmuseum and all sorts of stuff to make you think if that's what you're into.

Of course, we weren't into thinking so we met up with Q (who was working on worsening his gout), grabbed dinner and headed for the famous Red Light District. Here's a picture of Lentil on her first trip to the district, isn't it cute?With daylight fading and all of my traveling companions sufficiently lubricated, we perused the streets of the red light district in search of a live sex show. You don't have to look far as there are salesmen outside every show trying to get you to come in to see the show. My favorite guy had an auctioneer-like quality about him when he rattled off the contents of his show in under 3 seconds: "F******, sucking, smoking, blowjobs, banana, 25 euros, 2 euro beers." Seriously, say it 10 times fast out loud in a nasaly voice with a Dutch accent and you'll get the picture. A found the guy less than charming so we moved on until Q recognized the glowing pink elephant that signifies the most popular live sex show in the red light district. Of course, there was a line outside and it was 15 Euros more than the auctioneer's place but we went in anyhow. After about a 20 minute wait we got in to the show. A wanted to sit in the very front row. If you know A, you know there's no point arguing with her when she's sober, let alone drunk. So I headed to the front row with my three drunk companions. The front row was so close that our knees were literally up against the stage.

There's a reason no one sits in the front row at a sex show: It's gross in the TMI, holy-cow-I-didn't-know-they-came-like-that kind of way. Everything is happening just a foot or two in front of you, right at eye level, and you can practically smell the latex. And let me tell you, the beautiful people of the world are for some reason not drawn to live sex performances as a career. Their parachute color is not red...

In case you don't know what goes on in a sex show, there are several "acts" wherein the performers do various things from smoking cigars to chopping bananas to shooting ping pong balls and making change with their body parts, in addition to more conventional heterosexual sex with men with enormous genitalia that will make all audience members seem inadequate, a smattering of oral sex, and an occassion lesbian encounter. Literally something for everyone. Each act lasts about the length of one song and involves some dancing or attempt at role play to give it some substance. After all, we all want our live sex to be meaningful, don't we?

We eventually gained entrance and walked in on the first act which was basically a stoic-looking woman playing with a light-up dildo. Nothing too special so I spent much of my time just watching the bed spin on stage and noting the shoddy appearance of things, contemplating what diseases I might be contracting but then deciding the cigarette smoke had no doubt asphexiated any living organism in the place. You have to remember that I was completely sober, it was late, and Lentil was present. Not exactly how you want to be when some one is playing with a glow stick a few feet in front of you.

After the first act Q and I were discussing moving back a row or two when, I'm not kidding here, the Batman theme song started playing. In case you don't remember, there has been a Batman theme in my life for sometime. Click here, here, here, and here for a refresher on past references to Batman on this blog.

So the Batman theme starts playing, the original TV one, and a large black man in a mask, cape, buttless chaps, and what appeared to be a faded Batman logo half-shirt came prancing across the stage in search of the woman who was presumably his catwoman for the night. Q and I looked at eachother and just laughed. What are the odds we would pick a sex show in Amsterdam featuring Dutch Black Porno Batman (DBPB)? I wish I could have taken my camera in. Even better was the fact that DBPB has his arse pointed directly at our friend B, who's face was approximately two feet away from said cheeks whilst DBPB received fellatio from a Catwoman that spent much of the act yawning and rolling her eyes waiting for her shift to end. I was quite impressed when Catwoman laid on the rotating bed giving DBPB a BJ while he sidestepped around with the bed. They must have worked on that one a while.

Soon after DBPB we saw a woman smoke a cigar with her hoo ha while laying back on the spinning bed in the middle of the stage. She blew rings and everything but looked incredibly bored with the whole thing. I wondered what her OBGYN might think when he discovers she's got nicotine-related cancer cells in her cervix?

Q and I eventually moved back a ways. A and B sat gape-mouthed, apparantly enjoying the show. To me it was boring, mechanical, and not the least bit enjoyable. One act had two people having sex and changing positions to the beat of the music. It was like dancercize mixed with sex and if you listened you knew they at least had rhythm. Later some girl came out with a guy in a monkey suit but didn't even do the banana trick. What a rip off!

Q and I had seen enough and headed back to the hotel. It was about 2 am. A and B didn't get back until about 4 am and later reported enjoying the show very much. Different strokes...

Note to readers: Do not sit in the front row of a live sex show stone cold sober while pregnant. It might make you question your abilities as a parent.

The next couple of days we all slept in then Q and I hit the Van Gogh Museum (all the good stuff is out on loan to other museums!) and the Rijksmuseum (under construction with only 10% of exhibits open), and just walked around the city. If you go, be sure to hit the Leidesplein and Centraal Plaza where there are always street performers and vendors of things unique to Amsterdam. For example, this is a lady who sold us some "original" watercolors for Lentil's bedroom. She was kind enough to tell us what she was thinking when she sold us them, and even signed and dated them for free. We were quite happy with our original work of Amsterdam street art until we saw the same painting with another vendor the next day. Watch out for her, she is a sweet talker and hangs out at Leidesplein on weekends...

We also hit Centraal Plaza, saw some Dutch breakdancers who were quite good, watched a guy juggle fire while riding a unicycle, and then I noticed this:

Yep, that's a guy dressed as The Mask in the middle of the center of Amsterdam. No, I didn't ask why. I just thought it was strange.

Oh, and if you're looking for a great hotel with an awesome location in Amsterdam, try the NH Schiller on Rembrandplein. It's on a busy square right across from the famous statues of Rembrandt's The Night Watch. Any hotel on the square would probably be cool. In fact, here's our motley crew with The Night Watch one day:I'm the short one whose pants barely fit. You know why? Because I was in denial that I am pregnant until I woke up one morning in Amsterdam and my belly had finally "popped":Seriously, I felt my ligaments stretching all day while Q and I went museum-hopping and I woke up the next morning looking pregnant. No more denial for me now...

On that note, I flew home the next day and found not only was my belly huge, I had developed cankles. I blame Q, Lentil and Batman.

Lentil's First Nightclub

You know me, I like to do it right. I expect nothing less of my unborn child, Lentil Bean. This includes enjoying the nightlife and experiencing life to the fullest - even if it starts at just 16 weeks after conception.

That said I took Lentil to her (I'm thinking it's a girl) first nightclub while we were in Berlin. She really had no choice in the matter and is probably deaf as a result. During our ever-romantic honeymoon we somehow ended up being invited to a worldwide battle of the bands called Emergenza in a smallish, dank club on a sidestreet in Berlin called SO36.

We met up with Q's co-worker, L, and his two young female friends at a bar near the club for a beer before heading in and learned that one of the girls' cousins was in a band that was competing. Our job was to boo at all the other bands and raise our hands for her cousin's band, Orange Distortion so that they might win and move on to the next round of Emergenza. Here is a link to Orange Distortion's MySpace site, complete with sample songs.

The club was extremely dark and smoky and filled up quickly with lots of young Berliners. We watched a few bands, two of which sucked really bad doing something like punk-rap, and one of which I really liked that did a modified cover version of Stray Cat Strut in German. I sort of speak German so it was really interesting to listen when the songs were not mere screaming into a microphone.

While at the club I decided to treat myself (and Lentil) to a schwarzbier (black beer). One beer turned into two and then maybe a third. In my own defense we were there for hours and it sucks to be pregnant in a smoke-filled punk bar listening to young Germans rap to the beat of Metallica. So, if Lentil ever has any physical or behavioral problems Q and I intend to blame it on Berlin. And really, if you can't blame the Germans, who can you blame? :) And at least the first time we catch Lentil drinking we can tell her she really got drunk for the first time in a night club in Berlin during a punk/rap/crap music competition. How cool will that be?

After our wild night in Berlin I was feeling a bit jetlagged and Q was suffering from a beer-induced episode of gout in his big toe so we decided to head back to Rheine and relax for a day. Seriously, you can get gout by drinking too much beer. It isn't pretty and is apparantly quite painful. But it's funny when you get it from too much dark beer...

Seeing as how I'd been traveling for four days straight and Q had the gout, I figured we'd stay in bed all day but Q was restless and made me go to Bad Bentheim (aka Badmitton) for even more sightseeing and schnitzel. Actually, it's a nice town with a castle and that quaint German feel to it. Although I wouldn't recommend the curry wurst. Yech.

Here's a picture of Badmitton castle:
Especially impressive were the gardens below the castle:
Perhaps even more cool than that was that we were in Badmitton just in time for the regional go kart races:Remember go karts? Think back to a time before personal injury lawyers...I remember strapping plywood and refrigerator boxes to a couple of three inch wide plastic skateboards (the kind with see-through wheels) and barreling down the streets of Fillmore as a kid. No helmet, no shoes, no sense...Those were the days. Of course you can see that the German kids have much better engineered go karts than us scrappy Americans...Typical.

Honeymoon in East Berlin, day one

I don't know about you, but for me nothing says romance quite like a weekend in the former bastion of all things grey and communist. I think this piece of the Berlin Wall appropriately sums up the mere thought of spending one's honeymoon in Berlin:A few weeks after we got married, Q fled the homestead for a two-0month work assignment in Rheine, Germany. I went to visit a couple of weeks ago. We were going to go to Prague for a long weekend, but that would entail too many train rides so we opted for Berlin instead. Note to readers considering a romantic getaway: Berlin should not be on your list.

Q had booked us a room at the Wall Strasse Park Place centrally located in former East Berlin on Wall Strasse (Wall Street). I'm sure you've all heard of the famous East Berlin Stock Exchange? Yes, they are right up there with NASDAQ.

So the hotel took it's location quite seriously. When we checked in there was a huge mural of men in suits catching U.S. dollars as they fell from the sky. We laughed and wondered how such a place got a four star rating.

After checking in we followed the stock ticker carpet (I am not kidding - it was grey with stock market abbreviations and numbers all down the halls) to our room where we found a lovely money theme waiting in our honeymoon suite. Check out the huge dollar bill rug. Again, nothing says happy honeymoon like walking across George Washington's face to get to the bathroom:
But wait, it gets better. The interior decorator really embraced the theme of money and added the lovely touch of having a quote about money written in four languages above the bed:In case you can't read it, it says "Buy stocks and go to sleep for a long time." Now if that doesn't put you in the mood, I don't know what will...

Enough on the accomodations, on to Berlin. We spent our first day walking around the entire city. I wanted to see Checkpoint Charlie, maybe even get a picture of myself running through or past it, right? News flash: Checkpoint Charlie has been removed. There is now a museum for it on the corner of the intersection that replaced it where you can see pictures of the Checkpoint and read about it, but that's it. It was pretty disappointing to see that the biggest crossing area had been dismantled and replaced by none other than a Starbucks (on the former west side, of course). Here's Q taking a picture of some tourists in front of the checkpoint museum while I take a picture of him taking a picture and the Starbucks in the back:Seemed funny at the time. Next we headed up toward the famous Brandenburg Gate, the former formal entry point into the city of Berlin:

Look closely at the picture. See that guy in the white jacket with a hat? See what looks like ears behind him? That's a guy dressed in a bear suit getting paid to take pictures with tourists in front of the gate. I guess he's supposed to be the Berlin Bear, which are sold everywhere but really just seem to be teddy bears in Berlin t-shirts.

The chariot on top of the gate is called a quadriga, and Berlin's is very famous. I zoomed in for a closer shot and think the horses on top look a little crazed if you ask me...Check out those nostrils and eyes!!!
We walked a bit more, using the famous Victory Column, with Golden Lizzy on top, as a guidepost and kept ending up back at the same place, in the middle of an intersection. The sad thing about Berlin is that most of it's historic stuff was destroyed during the war. Then it was all separated by the wall and one side started to restore while the other built over. This results in reconstructed historic buildings next to modern, or not-so-modern, high rises and kind of destroys the feel that you want in a historical city. Where was I? Oh yeah, here's the column:
Golden Lizzy kind of reminds me of Moroni of Mormon cultural significance. I feel sorry for the poor guy who has to polish Lizzy. Someone must because she sure is shiny. I think she should hook up with Moroni sometime:
Speaking of religion, did you know that Scientology is banned as a religion in Germany? Here's a quote from the Scientology vs. Germany website about it:

The German Federal Government maintains that Scientology is an organization which has primarily economical interests. This idea has been reinforced by a ruling of the Federal Labour court (which is not connected to the government in any way). After having reviewed several Scientology books, the judges concluded that Scientology is not a religion, but a commercial enterprise.

Furthermore, the German government maintains that Scientology tries to distribute its ideas as widely as possible, ideally leading to a society where humans life together according to Scientology rules. A closer look at Hubbard's writings shows that this is not desirable since Scientology is structured in a totalitarian, anti-democratic fashion.

No, I didn't know about this until I spoke with a German friend. He was surprised to learn that I had snapped this shot of none other than a multi-lingual Dianetics display at a bookstore just down the street from the Hard Rock Cafe in Berlin itself:
Score one for the commercial enterprise that is organized religion.

Next up: Going to a German nightclub while pregant.

Three things I never thought I'd do that are guaranteed to shock you

1. ATTEND A HASH EVENT SOBER

Yes, I attended the entire 2007 Betty Ford Rehab Hash without imbibing an ounce of alcohol. In case you've forgotten what Betty Ford is, it's that wonderous weekend each year wherein hordes of somewhat disturbed hashers converge upon the sleepy town of Palm Springs, California to run through the streets in lingerie. This was my fourth year making the pilgrimmage and the first time I spent the entire weekend sober. The good thing is that I had my faculties intact and was able to document the event with my digital camera.

Imagine watching these two swing at 1:00 am in an American Legion Hall while completely sober:

Yes, I had to do a double-take on that one too. For those of you ready to be scarred for life, here's the frontal view:I'm not sure which was more frightening either.

Of course, I took my new boyfriend, Q, to Betty Ford with me. I wasn't sure how Q would fare as we'd only been to two rather mellow hash runs together but all my fears were quelled the minute we stepped into Mervyn's in search of plus-size lingerie and he exclaimed that there were no good panties in 2X that I'd found a keeper. In fact, it took him longer to choose his lingerie than it did me. He was torn between the leopard print and a lovely floral with lace. He also noted that next year he'd start shopping earlier. In the end he even borrowed my red feather boa. I was quite proud and as a display of my devotion to him allowed him to borrow my sacred hash mug. Anyone who is a hasher knows this is very symbolic and a sign of complete trust. If you don't understand why, ask MM what happened at the campout when he lost his mug...

One great thing about the weekend was that Q got along well with all my friends. Here he is with BH of Santo Barbara. I'm not sure what they are doing either:
And here he is with BH of blogging fame:
Enough on that, Betty Ford sober was still fun and I certainly got a different perspective on all the excitement that goes on. So, on to the second thing I never thought I'd do:

2. SEE TWO LINES ON A PREGNANCY TEST.


Yes, that means what you think it means. Don't worry, it's not yours. It's Q's and we're pretty darned excited. Shocked beyond belief, but at the same time thrilled beyond comparison. I'm still processing the fact that we are going to be parents and that all these incredible things are going on inside of me. I hear payback is terrible so I'm expecting a wild and unruly child, most likely prone to cross-dressing and mouthing off. Hopefully Q's angelic past will counter some of my youthful indiscretions and the child, currently called Lentil Bean, because that's the size he or she was when we found out, will turn out healthy and well-balanced despite having us as parents. I'm still trying to find the right words to explain this to Lentil when he or she grows up:Any suggestions are greatly appreciated. And finally, thing number three I never thought I'd do is:

3. TIE THE KNOT.

We're getting married. This week. Sunday the 25th to be exact.

Yes, my father is polishing his shotgun. Of course, at our first dinner with my folks after finding out we are pregnant my father had his shotgun on the table the whole time. It was quite amusing.

When you think about it, this is the only way it could happen for a girl like me. Luckily, it happened with the best man I've ever been lucky enough to date and I thank the powers that be for stepping in before I could manage to mess things up.

Winter in the mountains

I know, I know...It's been a while. In fact, MB called to harass me about it today. What can I say? It's been cold outside, I've been busy, and life is changing before my eyes.

Still, I had to get the Nardcore pictures off the top of the blog so now you've got one of my view from the kitchen last week. Hope you like it.

In the meantime, I'm preparing for the Orange County Hash House Harriers' annual Betty Ford Rehab Run that's in Palm Springs next weekend. For a refresher on what it is, click here for the 2006 recap, complete with those lovely photos of men in green lycra. Don't worry, I'm already charging my camera battery for this year's event...