I read the news today, oh boy

I've been called out on the infrequency of this web log by both Hetzners. "Remiss," says Erik. "Irregular," says Ian. Admitted. For them, I'm going to try to do a "day in the life" post - a no-point, factual piece that will give a few details of my life in Prague. Fear not, it will gloss over the boring stuff and most likely include many, many digressions.

It's Friday, and I wake at quarter to nine. I have my Czech lessons today. I stumble around my apartment, groggy and cold until about nine thirty. Normally, I head down to the "cafe' zhardska" for a quick cappucino before going to class. But today class is going to be held in a cafe, so I don't bother. Besides, I'm really tired of the Euro-trash-pop radio station they always have on in the cafe, and I haven't really figured out how to order drinks to go. Ok, so I'm a goober.

Digression 1: I've finally found a way to truly laze around - don't drink coffee. The other day, I had nothing to do, and skipped morning coffee. I found myself pleasantly out-of-it, and where normally I might have stayed inside, doing stupid things with more energy, I went out and puttered around in the sun. Good day.

Digression 1a: The Czech people haven't yet caught on to the fancy naming trend we have. One brand of water is simply "Dobrá voda" - translates to "Good Water". This is everywhere - Good this, good that. I find it simple and effective, as far as advertising goes.

Czech Class today is unusual in a couple of respects - usually it is held in a very nice apartment (dobrý byt) that's owned by my teacher, Miroslav. But the rains came this week, and his roof leaked for what's apparently the third time. We hold class in a small bar down the street. Also unusual is the absence of my classmate, Julianna. Julianna is an Irish lady, a mother whose husband has been transferred to Prague and looks to be staying for at least 5 years. It sounds like a hard life. Julianna is not bad as a student, although she doesn't put too much effort into correct pronunciation - but maybe she does, and it's just really hard to kill off an accent. I know my lazy california "A" sound tends to drop too far into my throat, which Miroslav corrects - but I can't really hear the difference.

Miroslav himself is somewhere in his 30s, somewhat stout, and probably the most energetic teacher I have ever had. I'm reminded somewhat of an analogy made about my sister's driving habits: "Like a rat on speed." Beginning language teachers, strangely, have to be the most skilled of all language teachers. You have to be fluent in at least two languages, have a good grasp of the mechanics of your own language, and be very very patient. Especially with Czech, because it has about a zillion rules.

Today we sat in the cafe, drank coffee, smoked cigarettes, and did a review. We did basic nouns, verb (werb) conjugation, and the accusative form of basic nouns.

Digression #2: I have no idea why Miroslav says "werb" instead of "verb". The czechs have a perfectly good "vuh" sound, in fact it's all over the place. Perhaps "werb" is in-joke, but I don't get it.

The accusative form is meant to denote the object of a subject sentence. In Czech, you have to change the endings of pretty much everything - adjectives, verbs, and nouns. So whereas a cup of coffee is simply "kava", if you want to buy coffee you have to say "Dám sí kavu." Then there's about 8 or 9 different classes of nouns, (masculine & soft|hard ending & animate|inanimate, feminine & soft|hard ending, neuteur & soft|hard ending). Mercifully, some of these classes of nouns aren't declined. It still is a lot to know just to order lunch, though. We've talked about this - the first month of class is not inherently useful in the outside world - in Czech, one seems to have to spend quite a bit of time on the building blocks.

Class ends, and I grab my skateboard and head up the street near the modern art museum of Prague. There's some music happening today, and it sounds great - Eastern European female acapella group, lots of yipping and beautiful singing. But it's too bleeding cold out today to linger. I skate on, down into the park. This is a large park on the northwest side of Prague, next to a large convention hall and the T-Mobile Arena (where last entry's Ice Hockey match was held). Again, it's a cold day, and the park is nearly empty - perfect for skating around.

I work for awhile on my ollie. For those who don't know, this is the most basic and fundamental skateboard trick. It involves slamming the tail of the board on the ground, then jumping and pulling the board into the air with your front foot. With me, it usually looks like a fish attempting to skip down the sidewalk - I'm getting closer, but I usually mess up either slamming the board on the ground, or pulling the board into the air. The former involves the board flying out in front of me, the latter involves coming down hard on my right foot. My right ankle is complaining very loudly these days - it's over-used in skateboarding. You push off with your right foot, jump off onto your right foot when you're going far too fast down a hill, and generally abuse the hell out of it.

I skate around the back side of the convention center, and decide to have a little lunch at one of the many, many food stands around the place. The convention center itself is quite gorgeous - it looks like a modern parisian palace. Very nice. Lunch today is "Smažený sýr, hranolký a malé pivo." This is a breaded and deep-fried cheese, french fries (with tartar sauce), and a small beer. The whole thing costs about 3 bucks. I watch people buying tickets for the convention center, and notice that it's for the "erotica 2004 sex praha". I notice the class of people - the geeky tourists, the greasy men, and the young girl / older man combination that I can't quite get a handle on. It's about this time that I start drafting this post in my head, and immediately I am stuck with the hook from "A good day" by Ice Cube. This will stay in my head all the way home, annoyingly enough.

I catch the metro home. The entry-way to my flat smells of sauerkraut, and I curse my neighbors in my head. They are possibly the least-friendly people I know in Prague. Every time they see me, their faces assume a expression of fear and disgust. When I locked myself out, I cried out piteously to one of them for help as I was sleeping on my doorstep. Granted, they probably thought I was high or something, and I couldn't effectively communicate, but still. Stop for at least a fucking minute and try to understand when someone's locked out.

Ok, now I'm just getting spiteful at my neighbors, so I'd better stop.