Darlin', don't you go and cut your hair...

Darlin' don't you go and cut your hair 

Do you think it's gonna make him change? 

"I'm just a boy with a new haircut" 

And that's a pretty nice haircut ...

.....But I don't care, I care, I really don't care 

Did you see the drummer's hair?

See the video I've been singing non stop here.

So, I just got my hair cut by a total howler of a girl.  But goddamn, its good.  (And I know its not nice to be so 'yeah man, this looks ace', but frig it, it looks ace)

As I am saving for the big move to Berly, I decided to check out one of those blowdry bars that are around about the city.  Ten in total I found out...  Its insane, you go in, and you can get a colour, cut and blow dry for £20.  Guys, you'll think that's daylight robbery.... girls, you'll probably think I commit robbery to get a haircut and colour that cheap.

Back in the day, I had a wee 'haircut slut' phase- every six weeks, I'd get a banging new style or something.  Wasn't such a waste- I mean I met one of my best friends at a student party as I was leaning over the punch bowl, and she exclaimed 'I LOVE YOUR HAIR'.  Best mates ever since, so like, that £80 (or whatever outrageous price Toni & Guy charged me) was totally worth it. [Love you Luc]

After my haircut slut phase, I turned new age.  I was living with a Buddhist-ly inclined guy and we used to compete to see who could live with the least stuff. [Love you Ben] I barely had underwear to get me through a week, so mad expenditure on hair was out of the question.

Whilst I returned to buying pants and things, I never really busted out of the cheapo hair attitude.  I'd dye it myself, and cut it myself.  It was only because this weekend I have several job interview thingys in Berlin, I figured I should possibly reconsider my 'image'.  

So today, jeez.   I like talking to people to amuse myself, but when I talk to hairdressers, or doctors, or...hmm.. basically anyone doing me a service, I ham up the charm.  I want them to like me, not because I want their friendship, but I want good service and cheap prices.  Sorry to be so crude as to reveal that, but there we go.  

This girl though, she'd barely look at me between texting people, so I was busting every move in the book out- sympathy for her long shifts, laughing at her jokes, letting her chose....  Yeah.  Didn't really wash with her- mostly I was by myself waiting for her to come back from whatever she was doing.  Her burnt tomato coloured, spiky ponytail didn't encourage me either (thought it was very shiny).

I explained to her that my main concern was my self-cut fringe.  She looked at it and sighed (in what I thought was an unnecessarily dramatic manner), "What HAVE you done here?"

Yeah whatever.  When we were finishing up, she must have forgotten, as she did very little to the fringe, saying, "Yeah I think this looks best".  Suck on that disbelievers!

I also got some really nice feedback on this blog today from a girl who I have always thought has spectacular hair- so this one's for you Jolene!!!

The Madness of Sarah Winchester

A few years ago, I was friends with a boy called Marc.  He was really into paranormal things, which I always like to hear, although never fully believe.  The best story he ever told me was about The Winchester Mystery House.  

I think the reason why I like this story, this true story, is that it can be seen as a paranormal story but it is more about madness, and what it can do.  I don't believe the paranormal element to the story, but I do believe in this woman's very sad descent into madness.

Sarah Winchester was born around 1840.  With her very good upbringing, and keener than usual intellect, she was quite the catch around New Haven.  She married William Wirt Winchester who was the son of Oliver Fisher Winchester, who manufactured the famous Winchester rifle.  They had a happy marriage until their young daughter died of the childhood illness marasmus.  Understandably upset, Sarah fell into a deep depression, which many believe she never quite recovered from.  Fifteen years later, her husband died young from tuberculous, which added to her depression and distress.  It is reported that at this stage, she sought the help from a spiritualist.

This spiritualist told Sarah that her family, and subsequent fortune now that William was dead, were being haunted by the souls of the people who had been killed by Winchester rifles.  She was told that the death of her daughter and husband was because of these spirits, and that Sarah needed to be aware she could be next.  The spiritualist told Sarah that if she wanted to escape this fate, she needed to move west and build a mansion for the spirits.  So long as construction of the house never ceased, Sarah's life would be safe.

Now, honestly.  I am all for 'live and let live', but if a depressed millionaire widow I knew was being fed this bunkum, I would wade in.  

Instead, Sarah found a property in the Santa Clara Valley in California and bought it in 1884.  For the next THIRTY EIGHT years she would pour all of her money and efforts into building this insane house.  She had virtually unheard of financial resource for the project, as she was the sole heiress of the Winchester estate.

She filled the house with architectural oddities- a staircase that goes down seven steps, then up eleven; a winding staircase of seven flights of forty four steps, rising only to about nine feet (as each step is only 2 inches); secret passageways to confuse ghosts.  It is rumoured that Sarah would walk through the house through secret passageways, in weird patterns, so as to confuse any ghosts which might have been following her.  She also slept in a different bedroom each night for the same reason.

And she could have slept in a different bedroom quite easily... At the time of her death in 1922,  the unrelenting construction had rambled over six acres. The Sprawling mansion contained 160 rooms, 2,000 doors, 10,000 windows, 47 stairways, 47 fireplaces, 13 bathrooms, and 6 kitchens. There's millions of weird things about this house, I guess kind of confirmation biases- where people are finding things to support their paranormal beliefs

Speculation is rife about why Sarah did all these things.  She left no journals, or interviews, so whether it was to wade off spirits, or to cope with the grief of losing a young family.  Who can say?  However, the house that remains today is a fascinating and scary insight to wealth and insanity.

Nuts

Overheard Quote of the Day

Ciaran: (About a colleague who eats berries and nuts all the time)  Jeez man, you're so gay!

Dom: (who is gay) What? Hes 'gay' just because he likes to eat nuts?  ....oh.

Quote of the Day

THERAPY

Me:  Well... I just think people should be more honest about therapy you know?  If you're having it, you're having it.  You're a weirdo in Jewish culture if you're not having it.  And I mean,  you know how I feel about the Jews.  Love 'em.  If I could be Jewish, I'd have a weekly therapist, just...cause.... I could.

Louise:  Yeah, I did have a therapist, but she stopped returning my calls.

(I laughed....and laughed.....and laughed)

I am not a real life Truman Show. Shame.

Phew.  It seems the past few weeks, all manners of things have been fascinating me- things with no clear answers, things that cannot be proven, things which are reported widely and explained rarely...

For the sake of full comprehension- such 'weird things' my mind has been wrapping itself around have included-

• Astral Projection
• ASMR (Audio Sensory Meridan Response- or sound porn as I have happily referred to it as)
• Genetic sexual attraction (say whaaaaat?) 

Last night I was chatting to my friend who told me in no uncertain terms that he had not read my blog about astral projection, simply because he was 99.9999% sure it was utterly untrue.  (Astral projection...not my blog.)  Oh, and for anyone who has read previous blogs, my friend was Salzburg Boy, the one who called me quirky.  And since that last blog has continued to call me quirky, as know he knows it distresses me ;-)

What I then received from him was a deliciously rational and reasoned flow of proof of psychological hypotheses that showed that a metaphysical world is just...well....not there?

I have a a LOT of things to work through, not least some actual paid research I need to get going on today.  But before I do, one of the cognitive biases of judgement that Salzburg Boy sent was about 'confirmation bias'.  This has BLOWN my mind.

You know sometimes when you learn a new word.... or see/do/hear something for the first time?  Then, for a while after, it seems to crop up everywhere? The example given in this blog is a movie, but in my experience, it has always been with words.  When I discover a new word, suddenly I hear it everywhere.  Another example given in this blog is when you have a break up, and then suddenly, you can't listen to music anymore because, wow, every single song is about love.  Is this proof that you are, in fact, living the real life Truman Show?  That someone or something is controlling what you are exposed to?

Ehhhh... nah mate.  This is called the 'frequency illusion' and basically just means that when your attention is brought to something, all the times that it crops up in every day life that you might otherwise delete, ignore and forget, now suddenly have prominence.  And bam... your average Joe thinks its a message from the universe.

Frikkin' awesome.  Although, I am a bit saddened that I am not, in fact, a real life Truman.

So yeah, confirmation bias says that basically, once we have decided to figure something out, we will edit out any information that doesn't fit our agenda.  We will read books and magazines and articles that back up our opinion.  If we want to prove that astral projection exists?  Jeez well, we certainly could, but...why believe the most difficult thing?!  (That's actually another 'thing'- Occam's razor- a law that states we really should believe the option which has the least assumptions.... we rarely do though..)

Anyway.  Best go work, but yeah.  Sorry I am geeking out at the minute guys, I will return to embarrassing reality in due course I am sure....

Astral Projection and Me

RIGHT- hold your horses.  Before you read on, I need to say NOW that I am a fairly big cynic AND an atheist.  That is all.  Ok, off we go!

Some night last week, I was feeling a bit bored.  I watched a (pretty meagre) film, which to be fair, I didn't even see through to the end.  However, it did explore the idea of astral projection.  And....if any of you have been around me SINCE seeing this film, you will know that this concept has been lodged firmly at the forefront of my mind ever since.

In case, like me, you don't know what astral projection is, or what it entails, here is a brief run down courtesy of the lazy man everywhere, Wikipedia. (I've highlighted the best bits, just cause I'm nice like that).  

Astral projection (or astral travel) is an interpretation of out-of-body experience (OBE) that assumes the existence of an "astral body" separate from the physical body and capable of traveling outside it. Astral projection or travel denotes the astral body leaving thephysical body to travel in the astral plane.

The idea of astral travel is rooted in common worldwide religious accounts of the afterlife in which the consciousness' or soul's journey or "ascent" is described in such terms as "an...out-of body experience, wherein the spiritual traveller leaves the physical body and travels in his/her subtle body (or dreambody or astral body) into ‘higher’ realms." It is therefore associated with near death experiences and is also frequently reported as spontaneously experienced in association with sleep and dreams, illness, surgical operations, drug experiences, sleep paralysis and forms of meditation.

It is sometimes attempted out of curiosity, or may be believed to be necessary to, or the result of, some forms of spiritual practice. It may involve "travel to higher realms" called astral planes but is commonly used to describe any sensation of being "out of the body" in the everyday world, even seeing one's body from outside or above. It may be reported in the form of an apparitional experience, a supposed encounter with a doppelgänger, some living person also seen somewhere else at the same time.

Through the 1960s and 70s, surveys reported percentages ranging from 8 percent to as many as 50 percent (in certain groups) of respondents who state they had such an experience. The subjective nature of the experience permits explanations that do not rely on the existence of an "astral" body and plane. There is little beyond anecdotal evidence to support the idea that people can actually "leave the body".

Flip!  I had heard of out of body experiences, and of course have seen the Hollywood bastardisation of 'going towards the light' in death scenes and so on....but I didn't know this thing had a name.  Years ago, when exchanging creepy stories with a bunch of friends, one of my friends shared a story, which I now see was about astral projection.  This man was a fair bit older than me, quiet, reserved and very intelligent.  Certainly not in the same realm as some of the others sharing stories that day.  I don't doubt for a second that everyone in the room who heard this story would remember it- primarily because the man who was telling it was so 100% 'not the type' that it seemed something....well...something to consider as reality, at the very least.

He spoke of a dream he once had, in a previous house with a previous girlfriend.  He said he quite vividly remembered wearing what he was wearing, but flying over Belfast.  As he flew closer to where his house was, he started to recognise the area, then the streets, then HIS street.  As he saw his house, he flew to it.... he flew in the window, and landed at the bottom of his bed.  As he recognised his own sleeping self, with his girlfriend beside him, he was startled.  So startled in fact that he woke up, and swore he saw the briefest of an outline of himself disappear from the end of the bed, into the night.  His girlfriend woke up as well, so violent was his reaction, and he was too scared to say to her.

Now, this is the sort of tale that I would usually scoff at, but it really was the person who told it that was the attention grabber.  Imagine the most serious, grounded person you know, saying something like THAT....Hmm.  

So anyway.  Back to last week.  It struck me that while astral projection as an experience reported by many people is an acknowledged phenomenon, obviously it cannot be proven.  That said, maybe it was because of this story I once heard, that I realised not everyone who reported it was a crystal toting, energy chasing kafkan-ista (not that there is anything wrong with that, if that's you, well, rock on!  Its just, your image, well, it doesn't hold a hell of a lot of weight with the old scientists.)

As a bit of a reluctant atheist (- quick recap- have no faith, but would really like to think that a spiritual aspect of the human existence exists, am at peace with the atheist position, but want to believe the human soul exists more than just nuturing a personality in a creature very genetically similiar to the next creature) this whole business of astral projection excited me.

I spoke to my atheist friend Jonny about it.  He surmised along the lines of-  certainly, if we accept that humans are nothing more than vibrating molecules, and there is a hell of a lot we don't understand, there is a potential for something like astral projection to exist.  If we are only aware of the physical dimensions, there could potentially be other dimensions on which stuff is going on that we have NO idea.  Perhaps astral projection is people inadvertently  or subconsciously accessing some area of this, or using some dormant part of their brain...  [Jonny would probably like me to also point out that his main position was one of extreme cynicism and he gave this opinion when pressed on by me, the girl who wants to believe in Santa, etc.]

Now that's interesting.  

Today, a guy I know came into work.  Now I have had many interesting chats with this man- he is jointly passionately about two things. Maths and music.  One day, he absolutely fascinated me with loads of examples of proven maths theories that also appear in nature, and in music (I am pretty sure the harmonic seventh scale is there somewhere....)  I figured he had a good open mind to a surreal chat, so I asked him what he thought.

Turns out, he also completely believed it was possible.  As he said himself, if we are all nothing but vibrating particles, we are all inherently linked.  We are all linked anyway by waves- I see the table over there through a transmission of light, etc.  To say that we are not all linked to everything in some way, according to him, was naive.  Interestingly, because I don't expect this sort of molecular-metaphysical discussion to appeal to religious people, he told me that he was not an atheist, not at all.  He said that there was so much intelligence behind everything (and given his previous chats about mathematical links with....life... I can see he would know more about this than me) that it seems insane to think that there is no intelligence behind the intelligence.  Good point.  Still not convinced though- surely that's evolution?!  All the same, the talk really excited me, and I shared with him something that I hope to blog about later this week- another mental response that cannot be explained or proven....

Anyway.  I just thought it was interesting.  I am still no closer to finding out what this phenomenon is about.  But what was interesting is that their certainly seems to be a lot of thought about it.  At any rate, my little dead atheist brain is not allowing me any night time or drug induced or fever induced flying trips in astral planes.  Bummer.  

Hear no evil, see no evil.

So today...ugh.  I'm actually not in a super chipper mood right now, so I am going to blog about some loveliness.  I had originally planned to do a post about my top 5 frequently fascinating and frustrating fixations, but my mood won't do them justice.

Instead, I will tell you about the two gifts I have received in the past 24 hours.  

#1.  Sony Headphones

As Jonny has blogged about me on his blog,  I will blog about him here.  Last night I was watching Primer at his house- weirdest film ever, so I took the avenue of comprehension called Pinot Grigio Place (it was a cul de sac).  We were clearing some stuff from his office and he just chucked these at me- how nice?  I am a little bit in love with them, I keep looking at them happily.  They remind me of the headphones in the George Michael video for Fastlove, remember them?

#2.  The Letter From My Stalker

So, I will edit some of this letter out for reasons of delicacy, but when I came into work today, I was handed an envelope.  It had a nickname of mine on it- a nickname that is synonymous with a guy who kind of has been following me  around. Everyone has noticed.  I have dealt with this badly- by hiding mostly...

Anyway, as I opened it, my heart started to pump again as I recognised the handwriting from one of my friends.  Immediately realising they were trying to scare me again, I read my fake stalker letter.

If you think scary creeps are funny, well then.... it is kind of funny.....

"Dearest, most daring [Cat](nickname),

...(edit)Last night, I was gazing up at the moon and thinking of you and it occurred to me- guinea pigs are so erotic.  It is no wonder that you have three of them.  Although, as you are a Cat, it makes me wonder if you have ever wanted to devour them- as I have often dreamed of devouring you.  Failing that, we could also find a handy meadow and run wild and free with the guinea pigs, naked as they are and only slightly less hairy.  Let me know what you think.
Reply soon or...just or else.
Yours, always yours,

You know who.  x


I work with a great bunch. ;-)

Gossip

So, I have always known Belfast is small, filled with talkative people and...well.... gossipy as heck.  But today really hit a new low.

As I was in work, a girl I know who is just back from Broadway (yup, the Noo Yoik variety) came in.  Now, I could talk to her at length about the show, the playwright, the partying- all of it.  But could I remember her name?  Not for anything!  (Consequently this is her and this is the play she was in )

Spying the marketing manager talking to a member of the board, I trotted over to quietly ask him what she was called.  As I did so, the board member, who also works in the BBC (where I do freelance radio work) turned round to me.

"Ahh Cat!  I hear you are leaving us?"

"Yep, thats right.  Off to Berlin at the end of next month."

"Flip, well, what will we do without you?  At least we have a few weeks yet, huh?"

"....umm, yep.  Few weeks."

"And you know people out there?  But I suppose you aren't alone, your boyfriend..or is it husband?.... Jonny is going with you too?"

At this point, I must have looked totally weird.  To explain, Jonny is one of my best buds- a local DJ, club promoter, founder of a well known and loved music magazine and general manager of a local venue.  He also will pop into the BBC from time to time... Lovely boy, super dresser and my my, don't the ladies love him!  We do hang out a lot, but I can safely say that Jonny and I are 100% plutonic- I'd take a bullet for him, but I know where he's been so....hmm... in the words of Meatloaf, I would do anything for love, but I won't do that.  (jokes Jonny....but yeah.  Buds for life, innit bro?)

But... back to my stunned confused face.  How did this guy, who sincerely, I've spoken to a handful of times, and who certainly doesn't know anything about me or my life, know about my friend Jonny?  How has the story that I am moving to Berlin (which, y'know, I like to keep the gossipers talking, and I thought that alone was big enough) become remixed into a new life AND a new relationship?  

Confused I asked him, "How do you know about Jonny?"  Wow, way to go for sounding defensive.  Muttering something about one of the presenters I have worked with (who also does not know anything??) I realised I was living the gossip nightmare.  When you realise that in Belfast, people TALK.  And the age old problem people have with girls and boys being friends.  Can't be.  No way.  Someone must fancy the other.  

Ugggggggh.

To be fair though, to get a husband out of it was unexpected.

I did think last week that a part of me will miss knowing people in Belfast, and people recognising me from the telly (embarrassing to admit, but I do like it, its nice to get such happy reactions from strangers). Today made me just relish the thought of anonymity for a while. No gossip, no identity.

Maybe I should be careful what I wish for.  You know what aul Oscar Wilde had to say...

The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.

Being Quirky

Oh God. 

I've been meaning to write this blog for a while, but I wasn't sure how to write it without-

a) sounding faux-ohmygod
b) offending people
c) expressing the true heart of why I am stressed out and saddened by this.

Recently when I was in Berlin, I met a couple of LOVELY young chaps from Salzburg,  Super nice friendly guys.  As is the way, we linked up on Facebook.  This doesn't bother me- nice guys, new connections.  All good, all rosy, all super.

Chatting to one of the guys the other week, he commented that I was "quirky".  Uh oh.  Cue thinking too much, in detail, about what Salzburg Boy even said was a good thing.  Its just....quirky girls.  They annoy the living hell out of me.

When I was younger, I thought I liked the idea of someone a bit different.  In Friends, I liked Phoebe.  But as the series rolled on, her character, once rich with 'quirks', soon ran thin.  In the same way, as I got older and met more people, I realised the people who come to parties with top hats on, or the guy who declares himself to be 'the mad one'....well they just NEVER are, are they?  I view affectations of fashion, or mad flamboyant behaviour as a very thinly veiled disguise for not having a personality.  

My biggest peeve is when its all oh-too-transparent.  The law student pretending to be ditsy in order to appear cuter to guys. What?!  Who wants a dumb girlfriend? (Actually, don't answer that... it might be too depressing to fathom)

I am not sure if I have said it on this blog before, but it is for this very reason that I am always incredibly attracted to the polar opposite personality type- the aloof, quiet type.  These people frequently are the ones who genuinely are quirky, but don't have to parade it.  They are the ones who will mutter devilishly cutting one liners, which if you are lucky enough to hear, you'll laugh your head off.

That said, I am still waiting for the rest of the world to realise this.  Unfortunately, we are in an era where the quirky girl is king.  Outlandish quirky people...well, some are legit.  Hell, I don't think I'm quirky, but I know I am loud, and I do my own thing- I'm not trying to impress anyone, ever.  If you like me, great, if not, well, that's a shame, but I'm only ever honest, so?  

But jesus, I know that if I met me, I'd totally think I was one of the annoying ones.  According to that article I linked in I have the short kinda masculine name- Cat.  I have the bangs.  I have the musical proclivity- (yawwwwn, if I do say so myself.  Not that this world is fun- I have plenty of times had people giving off to me at parties because they can't find anything they know/want to play.  Cue feeling like a musical dickhead)  Love prowess?  I dunno if I would say I have this necessarily, but I certainly mostly do the chasing, because yes, as previously mentioned, I usually like aloof characters.  And if they happen to be a bit attractive as well, well, yes, I will probably fancy them.  Also-

I'm Loud
I keeps guinea pigs
I work in a theatre
I occasionally wear glitter legwarmers, or shit like that

Frig. 

We need a new word.  I need a new identity.

Or I need to chill out and accept that quirky doesn't have to mean a love child of Zooey Deschanel, Lisa Kudrow and Carrie Bradshaw, but is in fact nothing more than-

quirk·y/ˈkwərkē/

Adjective:	Characterized by peculiar or unexpected traits: "quirky charm".
Synonyms:	peculiar

Pattie Boyd. Love Heroine / The Difference Between Men and Women

Wow.

Walking into work today, one of my favourite Beatles tracks came on.

 "Something."

If you haven't heard it, here it is.  I hope you like it, it is one of my favourite Beatles tracks.  Written by George Harrison about Pattie Boyd- more about her later.

Today listening to it, I really listened to the lyrics.  You know how sometimes you can love a song but not really LISTEN to it? Today was the first time I noticed the lyric-

"You're asking me if my love'll grow? I don't know, I don't know.

You stick around now it may show, I don't know, I don't know."

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN MEN AND WOMEN.

I thought this was strange. I have always thought 'Something' was my favourite Beatles love song, and in many ways, one of my favourite love songs of anyone.  But how strange.  When I'm in love, as a GIRL, I am consumed.  I only have one time to draw on for experience, but it was perhaps the worst thing that ever happened to me to break it off because I was so involved.  If the other person, at that time, had asked me 'if my love would grow' I would have said of course, absolutely.  Obviously I was wrong... but I would never have thought it.  As I discussed with friends earlier, I was on the front foot.  This song makes me think boys are on the back/reality foot, of not knowing and not promising.  How sad.  Being realistic is good of course, but being idealistic is better I think.  Sure it hurts more, but its also a better journey.

I confirmed this earlier with boys and girls, men and women.  Men agree, its better to be realistic.  You can't expect everything. Women agreed but said they do expect the dream anyway.  Yikes.


PATTIE BOYD

So my other great lesson of the day was about Pattie Boyd.  I was singing 'Something' all day, and a friend joined in.  He then told me a story I was vaguely aware of- The Great Rock Star Romantic Robbery.  When George Harrison's lady was stolen by Eric Clapton.  This Pattie Boyd character was the woman who inspired the songs 'Something' by George Harrison, and 'Layla' and 'Wonderful Tonight' by Eric Clapton.  She left Harrison for Clapton (WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?) but wow.   Imagine having songs of this magnitude written about you.  I have had one song written about me in my time, and it used to be that I couldn't hear it EVER.  Now when I hear it, I feel weird, like its about another person in another time.  I wonder how Pattie Boyd feels.

Layla -  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vj8xjLQ9ofI

Berlin Goals

Berlin Goals That I, Cat Anderson, Hope To Achieve

1. Get better at German.  Just so, y'know, I can talk to people, and achieve Goal #2.

2. Get a gang of buddies

3. Get a neighbourhood- actually, I kinda have this already.  I've got an apartment in a vegetarian area so, that's good, right?

4. Get a cool haircut.

5. Get a job.

Belfast Targets Before I Go To Berlin

1. Cut my hai......fringe.  Cut my fringe.

2. Listen to more German stuff online (this won't happen. I'm lazy so .... this won't happen)

3. Get rid of most of my stuff. I have 2 cases, with a 20kg limit.  I like not having much stuff so... I kinda wanna set up my new life with 20kg of stuff.  Yeeeah.

4. Save money, in the quite possible reality that I don't achieve #5 in my goals.

5. Organise a BANGING leaving do.  (I'm going to do that now.  If you're a FB friend, or more importantly, a FRIEND, hopefully you'll be invited.  I think I'll entitle it.... "Auf Wiedersehen Pet."  Nice.