Happy 2004.

And for your enjoyment, Blog Schmog is proud to present "The Lyrics Hardly Anybody Ever Knows":

For Auld Lang Syne

Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne
And there's a hand, my trusty friend
And gie's a hand to thine
We'll take a cup of kindness yet
For auld lang syne

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll take a cup of kindness yet
For auld lang syne

Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne
For auld lang syne

Thank you and good night.

Old, old jokes

I just read this which I thought was rather funny: "Last time I heard that joke I laughed so hard I fell off my dinosaur!"

MTV seems to have given up on playing videos. Luckily, the only video they are still playing seems to be Muse: Hysteria which I rather like.

Why is it that rich people who've had beauty surgery always have such crappy surgery? I mean when I go to a surgeon and say: Here's a gazillion Euros, please make me look good I'd expect him not to inject my lips with enough silicone to tide over Silicone Valley for a month. Maybe they get paid by the pound or something. Also fake breasts usually look stupid.

I hate End-Of-The-Year-TV. Why does everybody feel the need to look back at last year? I was there, I know what happened! Booooring. At least the Bachelor is choosing his "true love" *choke* today (the blonde bulimic alien is my guess).

Yay! For all German speaking people: Telepolis-Rätsel 2003

Yesterday I saw "Superstar Worldwide" and it was really embarrassing. Not for me but for our German "Superstar" Axel Klaus (or some such). "Really terrible" says US judge Simon Cowell. "Like an aerobic instructor turned stripper" says the Australian judge. Who's English by the way. Like the US judge, the English judge and our own Shona Fraser. I wonder they let jury people from other nations even touch the jury table. Unfair advantage, anyone? Then again, Will Young was so boring my feet fell asleep while he was wrenching out "Light my Fire". Jim Morrison was turning in his grave. Not very fast, but still. "Yeah, light my fire, light my fire, light my fire *uninspired explosion to the left* light my firelightmyfirelightmyfire *uninspired explosion to the right". Booooring!

RTL had edited the broadcast to the point where viewers could probably sue them for mutilation. Hence we apparently missed how the jury members ganged up on the Polish judge because he was stupid. Well, we *saw* he was stupid when he offered to drink some vodka after the show with "his" contestant, 16-year-old blonde "I wanna be Kim Wilde when I grow up" Alex.

The Australian contestant looked and sounded like Lenny Kravitz on acid. The Canadian confused dancing with knee-bends and jerky arm movements to almost rival Alex' "Maniac" aerobic instructor choreography.

I actually liked the "Little Norwegian Hobbit" and the "Rock till you drop" Belgian. And that Kelly Clarkson sho nuff can sing. Well, we'll see what comes of it.

After that I saw the Bachelor. Oh dear. Oh dear. I'm not saying anything else. Just that I think maybe one should go out Saturday night to avoid the nonexistant TV programming. It's rubbed in: Hey, YOU'RE NOT OUT - Watch THIS and wish you were!!!!!

Back from the parents'. Now I have time to relax and cuddle the cats and it's great. I also have mountains and mountains of books to read. By the way, I really tried to read Infinite Jest but I can't. I'm on page 10.000 or so and it's so boring I was ready to gnaw my feet off so I stopped. I'm really counting on Middlesex now. But all in good time, I'm starting with the light reading.

Grammar/Punctuation appeal of the day (tm) sponsored by P.: People! Don't use round brackets where square ones are supposed to go and vice versa! Thank you.

Oh, and one more thing: Wouldn't it be good if some songs were illegal? Playing Walking on Sunshine should at least warrant *some* prison sentence. Imagine pleading with the police: "I didn't know they were playing music here, I just came to buy DRUGS!" Other candidates: "The Joker". "In Zaire" and the ever-popular "It's raining men". I might even consider the death sentence in this context. In addition, people who are dancing to any of those songs should get some jail time for aiding and abetting.

So today is Christmas and I feel like I want to relax and cuddle my cats. Maybe go for a walk later on. But I can't. Oh well, such is life. So I wish you all a merry Christmas/non-Christmas whatever you celebrate/don't celebrate. Have a happy day in any case.

WICHTELTIME

Do you know your specs? Take the quiz and find out. Then put some specs on and try to identify Führer or Faker? And I implore you, take them off again before you view this calendar.

Sometimes I feel like this.

No pix today - I was on a business trip and though I took the camera to try it out, I doubt you'd want to see pictures out of a train window or the 3 second video of a train moving in the direction of Stuttgart. Yes, Marco, it was the same train. No, I did not see you.

Anyway, just returned from seeing Lord of the Rings and wanted to share my moviegoing experience with you. First of all, this was not a planned event. I knew my friends were going, but I did not know when I'd return from said business trip so they did not get me a ticket. Hence, I had to go and purchase my own - with the result I had to sit on the balcony all by myself. Never mind, balcony seats have at least a decent view and a "real" seat is preferrable to those "fold-me-down-and-get-cramps-in-your-butt" seats.

So after scarfing down a quick pizza half and a couple of heres and theres and whatnots (a Wunderbar, actually) I feel kind of queasy, rather tired and still somewhat cranky. I arrive at the cinema where C.'s friend "M." has brought his new girlfriend from Australia. Girlfriend is perky and speckled, C. is somewhat drunk. "M." gets on my nerves. He usually does but if you're tired it's particularly grating.

So I go upstairs to my comfy little seat. But alas, there's two Italian guys sitting next to me. Actually, one is leaning over my seat and fiddling with his mobile phone. I sit down. He doesn't care. I move my elbow on the armrest. He looks at me angrily. Hey, my elbow has as much right to the armrest as yours, idiot.

The movie starts. Of course, the Italian Idiot starts yabbering to his friend. Loudly. As Italians are wont to. Don't know whether his friend needs instant translation or whether they're just elated to recognize the ring. I don't care and hit him on the arm, yelling: "PLEASE STOP TALKING". I'm fed up with people talking through Lord of the Rings movies. Better nip things like that in the bud. Angry looks again. Then peace and quiet for some time. Until he starts fiddling with his big-ass mobile phone. It has a huge colour display that lights up like a thousand christmas lights. Since nobody has sent him a text message (who would??), he turns it off again and crumples a paper bag. Scrunch, scrunch.

As soon as he stops, his friend decides it's getting to warm inside the movie theater and takes off all the clothes he wears. At least it seems like all clothes because it takes FOREVER. After that, I'm able to enjoy the film for some time. Until his friend decides it's now getting kind of cold and starts putting all his clothes back on again. While the Idiot crumples his bag. Scrunch, scrunch. Sigh. At least this was only in intervals so I got to see most of the movie in peace. Until the end when I keep missing parts of the film, when people get up to go to the bathroom and block my view or in one case even the projector. Then there's a couple of tear-jerking scenes near the end. I cry. A fat guy leaves and squeezes past me. I'm distracted and stop crying. Next scene: I start crying again, the Italian guys say: "Why does this movie take so long???" Double sigh. Is it that Lord of the Rings moviegoing public is extra stupid or is it a curse?????

Anyway. Before I say anything about the movie let me preface it with: The movie's cool. (Especially the Oliphants! Oliphants rule. And Sam. I like Sam.) Legolas is good-looking as ever (swashbuckle for me, Orlando) and Aragorn's as ruggedly handsome as one can get.
So anything I say is meant as loving as it gets.

Don't read it if you don't want to be spoiled.






Those Arts-and-Crafts-Orcs! They must have been really busy carving all those big fancy weapony-thingummys out of wood.

You're the Rohirrim. You've decided to help out those hard-to-reach neighbors in Gondor cause they lit about 200 beacons to get to you. Rousing speech ensues, you lift your swords, scream and ride thunderously into the sunset. Glorious start. You feel elated and ready for battle. 8 hours later. You're rather saddlesore and your elation's somewhat evaporated by now. Repeat and rinse. About 200 times. Rousing speeches each time you pass a beacon and so forth. I think about the 50th beacon would have me disappearing into a totally different direction. (Especially since our commander vanished without saying whereto and the King said: "Well, it's a hopeless case anyway.")

You're Sauron. You've built a big-ass gate to keep those pesky enemies out of Mordor. Suddenly, 50 people are in front of it and yell: "Hey, open up, we want to fight." Just imagine Aragorn's face if YOU KEEP THE FRIGGING GATE SHUT. What's he going to do? Pound his tiny fist in anger at the door? Didn't see any battering rams or things like that. That would have been funny, though.

So far I haven't objected to anything Mr Jackson changed. Elves at Helm's Deep? Fine with me. Arwen saves Frodo? Anything that has more Liv Tyler can't be that bad. But I object to the ending. The ending was what made Lord of the Rings special. In all other book you had a hero who saves the day, gets celebrated, end of story. Here, you had the hero NOT saving the day. Everybody just sort of tries to go home - but home doesn't exist anymore because the war hasn't just miraculously stopped in front of your doorstep. Because it doesn't. And life sucks and isn't fair: You don't get any bonus points for your trouble with the stupid bauble, but you feel sick and tired all your life. That's the way it goes.

And I'm going to bed now. Good night.

I'm tired and cranky but at least my camera arrived. And it's as tiny as it promised...

More to follow when I'm in a better mood.

Are U unsure how 2 spell? Try this link to speak'n spell.

Funny how time flies - I have only one christmas present and it's just around the corner. Christmas. Not the present. That's on the table right here. I, by the way, haven't gotten my christmas present yet (as in "little camera that needs to forget all the French words it knows"). It's been handed over to the DPD, though. So I have hopes that tomorrow I can present you with the first pictures. Of cats, probably.

I still have my vision of "The Ideal Christmas" (you can look at last year's archives - if they're working that is - if you're interested in how that goes. Steadily losing hope it's ever going to happen. Not that I had that much hope to begin with. One of the prerequisites is that it's snowing on Christmas eve, which is hard to achieve.

Yesterday when I came home from work I had the feeling that I'd rather fancy a hug. Alas, those are also hard to come by. Oh well, at least I can cuddle the cats. I have taken to calling them "Murpelbear". Today when I went to work I had this little song in my head "A Murpelbear has an easy life" (it rhymes in German) and after a while people started looking at me funnily. Then I realized it wasn't in my head but I was belting it out at the top of my lungs. "Murpelbeeeeeaaar!!!" Oddly satisfying, yet worrying.

Yo ho yo ho it's home from work I go. Or is it Hiho? I forget. Anyway, just got home and still feel the need to tell you my little digicam has left the French building and is now travelling towards its future home.

Why is it that Austrian news always feature German topics? And no interesting topics either. Today I switched on the TV to hear: "Tax Reform in Germany". Hello? We barely want to hear about our own tax reform...let alone another country's. Are there Austrians who think: "I really wonder how the tax reform in Germany went..."??? I don't think there's any nation on earth who likes Germans less than Austrians. I mean, we're not well liked around the globe anyway, but usually people just make fun of the German accent, shouting "Jawoll!" a lot. But the Austrians will glower and pout and sulk. Well pardon us for invading and annexing your country totally against your will *cough*. But this isn't a rant about sulky austrians, I was just wondering.

Note: No intention of generalization, some of my best friends are Austrian, no actual Austrians were harmed in the making of this blog.

Made myself an early christmas present today and ordered the bestest and most littlest camera in the world from obscure Frenchmen. Hey, they were cheap and amazon out of stock.

I found something really funny today (really time-consuming, too) - at Budweiser. com you can make any picture talk. It's under "Entertainment - Giving Lip". Just upload, think of a text and enjoy. It blinks, it moves its head - amazing.

Yesterday I had a migraine and took about 6 Advils to survive. I hate it when I wake up with a headache and feel like my eyes are swollen shut all day. Went into the pub anyway in the evening and had a couple of beers - today the migraine's still there. Ugh. And I have to work now while I can't really focus on the screen. 2 Advils down, four to go.

I just took a shower. With our new shower screen door attached. Boy, oh boy. It's so beautiful. Bahama Beige, have I mentioned that yet? I'm so happy I wrote a little poem:

Ode to my shower screen door

I'm in the tub,
the water flows.
My back I rub,
I soap my toes.

Shampoo the head,
shampoo the ear,
the screen door holds
I have no fear.

No puddles last
no drops are leaking
the door holds fast
my joy is peaking.

Its colour's neat
(beige of Bahama)
I scrub my feet
and bless my karma

While to the world (apologetic)
I will shout out (not quite phonetic):

I'll give my thanks
and many hugs
To Duscho-Lux.

Smelly Nelly

Got actually things to do at work, but I'm all for sharing pain and so I want to share what's been going on all day in my head:

NELLIE, THE ELEPHANT

To Bombay a travelling circus came, they brought an
Intelligent elephant and Nellie was her name
One dark night she slipped her iron chain
And off she ran to Hindustan
And was never seen again oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Nellie the elephant pack her trunk and said goodbye to the circus
Off she went with a trumpety trump trump trump trump
New Nellie the elephant packed her trunk and trundled out off the jungle
Off she went with a trumpety trump trump trump trump

The head of the herd was calling far far away
They met one night in the silver light on the road to Mandalay...
Night by night she danced to the circus band
When Nellie was leading the big parade she looked so proud and grand
No more tricks for Nellie to perform
They taught her how to take a bow and she took the crowd by storm..
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Mainly what's going through my head is: trump, trump, trump and ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Sigh.

Just to keep you informed: I'm sitting on the couch, having a gin & tonic, light chicken is sizzling in the oven and the Champions League game is about to start. Life is good.

Yikes! Big Brother Gillette is watching you! I'm really not into all that panic about my patterns as a consumer becoming transparent (after all, I own about a gazillion bonus cards). I think if my patterns become known to the company and they target me as their um, well, target group, that's only good for me. After all, it's my patterns. But taking a picture of me? When I buy a frigging razor blade?? What'll they think of next?

And if you're bored and aspiring to be Picasso, you might enjoy this link. Or you might try these little games, though they're not for the hand-eye-coordination challenged like me.

Got an e-mail back, by the way and was promised another one :)

Time for the Weekly Grammar Rant^TM:

Why? Why? Why do people put things in quotation marks to emphasize them? Would you want to eat at a restaurant that advertised "good" food? Or go to a strip club that had "sexy" strippers? Or see that "great" movie? I hate that. I especially hate it because it's so useless. I mean if adding the quotation marks had saved you work or assisted you in some manner, but no! You actually have to go to the trouble of adding four useless lines! And all it does is make people like me snigger at your disgusting food and ugly-ass strippers.

It's the same with the apostrophe. Why put apostrophe's (sic!) everywhere??? It's a frigging plural -s for God's sake. No reason at all to waste time apostrophying it. Here, again, if used as a genitive it's no less annoying but I can at least understand where it comes from. But plural??? Crepe's sold here. Why, why, why?

Gaudere's law (it's like Godwin's Law only different) dictates that I'll make some useless grammar mistake during this rant so you can all point at me and laugh but I will add one more point: I hate people who complain about
a) politicians,
b) the school system,
c) stupid Americans,
d) dumb television programs,
e) Dieter Bohlen,
and whose complaint contains so many spelling and grammar errors I want to throw up. Not that I don't endorse complaining about Dieter Bohlen (though I think there are worse people to complain about), but maybe - just maybe you should stop complaining and pick up a book instead. The Duden, preferrably.

And don't get me started on whose/who's. It's not that hard, people, and I'm not a native speaker. Or using "of" instead of "have". "He should of gone to school." Yikes. Or there/their. (That may be attributed to typos, I'm prone to mis-type that as well, but I'll correct it and I won't use it twice in one sentence.)

I guess that's several more points. I bet I could find lots more if only I tried but really the 's and the " " bug me the most. Grrr-Argh.

[/Grammar Rant]

Does it bother you when people use fake coding? It's so nerdy. But at least it's not l33t sp34k. Grrr-Argh.
Does it bother you when People Capitalize Much?

Other thoughts, completely unrelated:

• Is it worth not smoking when all day all you can think about is how you really would like to smoke a cigarette? It seriously lowers my quality of life. I don't really feel better for not smoking. No, not at all. And while all the smokers tell me smoking's bad for you, I can't shake the feeling they're grinning because they get to smoke and I don't.
  
  
• Amazing how it's easier to get up when the sun is shining.
  
  
• The shower screen is being worked on which means soon I'll be able to take a shower again.
  
  
• I have a candle burning on my desk and a potted plant sitting on my shelf. It's cozy. And I'm having tea. Christmastime is near (*breaks out into a heart-wrenching rendition of "The 12 days of Christmas"*)

Oh, and I just sent an e-mail. We'll see.

Do you want to know what it says on the side of my Cadbury Roses tin? "Full 1.8 Kg tin". That's what it says. Yum.

Today I went to have dinner with my parents and I was looking at pictures from the wedding I went to. Then I thought about marriage and I remembered the only time I thought: "If he asked me, I'd marry him". Which was rather strange, because I really did not know the guy all that well. I just thought that being married to him would be a good thing because he was nice and polite and funny and he'd open doors for you and make sure you'd be comfortable and suchlike. Single, too. Then again, maybe he was gay, I don't know for sure.

Of course, whatever the case he wasn't really interested in me. Which was kind of contradictory, since we were talking about our love life (or lack thereof) and he said he couldn't imagine somebody not being interested in me. I think it was meant as a joke :) Then again, as I've said already, he might have been sincere and gay. (He only said he didn't have anybody in his life and never specified the gender of "anybody"). But I would have married him anyway. Maybe I should write him an e-mail and find out how he's doing.

So much for the deep thoughts.

On to more mundane things: Our shower screen doesn't fit our bathtub!!! Grmpf! No shower happiness for us any time soon - sniff. I hate showering with no curtain, you just can't reach that state of happy abandonment that lightens up the whole showering experience.

I had a dream about a child and its name was mies van der Mauer.

I just saw a scary man doing a commercial for a product called Calgonit Protector (what on earth would you need that for??) and just wanted to share the goosebumps it gave me. Yikes. And then the commercial where the guy who's starving on a desert island throws the potatoes out because he has no Miracle Whip. WTF?? What does this commercial tell me? Only idiots eat Miracle Whip?

Yesterday I went ice-skating at the Stachus which was great fun, but I think we were the only people who were not totally drunk. Everybody else apparently had frequented the Glühwein places around the icerink before entering. Some people I don't know how they managed to put on the skates. There was one guy who was so drunk he couldn't even find his papers to get skates when we checked out ours.

Later I saw him ON THE ICE trundling towards the fence where the Glühwein was located. I don't know why I was the only one having trouble staying on my feet. After a while it turned out to be fun, though. I need to go again some time.

And for everybody who has been pining for them: here are my holiday pictures from Turkey. Disclaimer: No animals were harmed in the production of the bikini shots. (Though a cat once climbed into my beach bag to get at the roll I had stored there for future consumption)

This week's resolution: I've decided not to feel like a piece of dirt anymore.

Other than that: we bought a little wall for our shower today (since the cats tore down the shower curtain, showering hasn't really been much fun). 10 Euros on e-bay.

That and I now own Prince of Persia for my PS2. What to do on the weekend, what to do.... :)

What's in *your* bag?

Here's a list of items that currently reside in my "handbag":

• Filofax that weighs about 2 tons and contains everything I need to know and even a bit more
  
  
• Kleenex
  
  
• Huge Fake-Gucci-Wallet I bought in Turkey. Doesn't contain equally huge amounts of money, I'm afraid.
  
  
• Second wallet I use when going on vacation (left over from the snowboarding trip)
  
  
• 2 SZ-Magazines so I can solve crossword puzzles whenever I feel like it
  
  
• Fizzy dissolving vitamin thingies (2 pc) which I got given in the pharmacy but which I hate. They will stay in the bag until the wrapping dissolves and the tablets crumble all over the place. Been there, done that.
  
  
• Advil (family size!!) - a headache might attack me at any given time
  
  
• Sunglasses (been in there since July, I wager)
  
  
• The rubber band surrounding my bike lock broke and now is to be found at the bottom of the bag. Mental note: Tell Santa (aka parental units) that a new bike lock might be an appropriate X-mas present
  
  
• Tampons, which I don't need anymore (New method of contraceptive turns out to be a blessing)
  
  
• Mobile phone and a couple of pieces of paper containing phone numbers
  
  
• Refreshment towel of the BA (MUC - LHR)
  
  
• 3 ballpoint pens (to use with the crossword puzzles)
  
  
• 1 hair scrunchy (purple)
  
  
• 2 packs of L-Thyroxin 200 to replace my poor thyroid (RIP)
  
  
• Half a pack of Aspirin, in case I get a migraine (Advil doesn't work for a migraine)
  
  
• 2 little tryout thingies that my hairdresser gave to me (Paul Mitchell: Super Charged Moisturizer^TM and Hair Repair Treatment^TM)
  
  
• Manhattan Super Compact Powder, in case my nose is starting to resemble a polished brass knob
  
  
• All-Inclusive-Bracelet (Turkey)
  

This is everything in my bag, baby. No, it's not big as a house, it's a regular size bag.

Ewww - Hotmail has undergone a complete revamp that's ugly as hell. Why?? Why?? Why?? Eek!

When I went to the gym today I saw the yoga class. Now I always thought that yoga was relaxing and meditative. But this was more like military training. The trainer was talking constantly: "Putyourfootforwardbendyourkneedownbothfeetbackintothedogintothecat
putbothkneesdownlieonyourstomachdothecobra" ACK! I had thought about doing yoga because I am always so tense. For relaxation. But this? This doesn't make me relax at all. Watching it alone made me nervous.

I need to be more relaxed. I feel really high-strung at the moment. If you have any recipes I'd be glad to hear them.

Do you know any unemployed philosophers? You know, those hard-to-find-a-Christmas-present-for types? Well, worry no more. Click here to acquire a perfectly good pair of Freudian Slippers and the joy under the Christmas tree will satisfy the out-of-controllest Id.

Dead ... tired ... must ... stay ... awake ... [insert coffee]

Unfortunately, this is my 8^th cup and so far it hasn't helped at all. Help! Wake me up, before you go-go!

Hooray! My penguin has written to me! It's mating season and he needs money to find a mate. Don't we all, Sulivan, don't we all!

On Saturday we went to see Finding Nemo. I quite liked it but not as much as I thought I would. Of course it was well done and there were some laughs, but from what everybody was saying I expected it to be better. The story was rather weak and they hit you over the head with morals, morals, morals ("Sometimes it's better to let children go blabla"). I liked Lilo and Stitch much better. But I did enjoy the seagulls going "mikemikemike" :))

And today I went snowboarding. Yay! It was really fun. Great weather, lovely snow. Cheered me up no end (apart from getting up at 5 a.m. but who gets cheered up by that).

Maybe I am a Weather Goddess? Since my mood sucks, the weather does as well. I'm sort of glad I'm in my nice cozy office and don't have to go out. Might also be because the Tollwood is starting on Sunday and traditionally the weather gets lousy then. Believe it or not, I am actually looking forward to having some Glühwein. (Ask me again the middle of December when there's been Glühwein-overkill).

My mood still sucks, sucks, sucks. And this doesn't help any.

Today's Fun Facts

The strange thing is, I really like spam. Because I like getting mail.

People who slow down first and then use the turn signal annoy me a great deal. Is this a fun fact? Maybe I should change the headline to "Today's Facts". Nah. Doesn't have the same ring to it. Just find some fun in this, dammit.

Recently, I like to use the word "dammit". Have been made fun of because of this as well. See? There's the fun.

I'm the most favourite VIP customer of this store which will probably drive me into bankruptcy.

Taxes are done. Now I have to wait and see if a trip to the Bahamas is in order.

What to do when your internet suddenly breaks down

Is there anyone out there who also doesn't like Radiohead's Creep? No? I thought so. Well, I'm just a weirdo then.

Did you see the "Zimmer frei" with Chernobyl Jobatei? Idiot. I'm taking him off my amok list, by the way. Not that he hadn't deserved it, but since we haven't heard of him since forever, I'm not digging him up again, thankyouverymuch. Which leaves me with Roger Willemsen on the top spot and Helmut Lotti a close second. Narrowing down the amok list to two people probably makes it easier to fulfil the task once you've started running amok. Easiest if Roger Willemsen is interviewing Helmut Lotti. But I think he has done that and I've let this golden opportunity pass.

In related news, the D.C. sniper has been given the death sentence. This is also not really a fun fact, only a fact.

Some days, construction sites just seem to pop up out of nowhere. Especially when you're not planning on moving your car anytime soon.

Everybody else in my "body & mind" class yesterday was pregnant. Besides the instructor, of course. For god's sake, women, stay at home when you're gestating. Nobody wants to see you rolling around on the floor looking like a beached whale. I really hope some of them just were fat. But I don't think so. If you're simply fat you don't roll your pants down so your belly sticks out. So I guess about 3-4 months from now I'll be alone in that class. That or they will be nursing and rolling around on the floor.

I'm in a bad mood today. Can you tell?

Just in case you have a few seconds of your time to spare:

Throw Santa.

Death and Taxes

Finally did my income tax return yesterday, but when I wanted to mail it today, I discovered I had forgotten a form and - while I am at work - it is at home. Great. I think I did everything wrong you can do wrong. My only hope is that the tax people look at the mess that is my income tax return, sigh and decide it's not worth the bother and just charge me x amount because I can't really tell anyway. But I have a hunch this is not how tax people think. If I was Boris Becker I could at least move to Monaco. Plus, everything I send in is in the most dreadful state: the cats dumped red wine all over the form, my printer decided to smudge everything and the receipts look like somebody sat on them (which is probably what happened). I somehow doubt tax people like that. They are orderly people, neat people who save their bank statements in little binders. Unlike me who saves her bank statements in whatever pocket I stuffed them in. Or in the big box marked "IMPORTANT PAPERS" that I accidentally stepped on the other day when I wanted to get to my bed without turning on the light.

This doesn't bode well. Not at all. I'd choose death over taxes any day (especially since when I say that I have to think of Joe Black which was an abysmal film but it DID feature Brad Pitt as Death who then claims he's a tax person. Did I mention abysmal? And I'd take Brad Pitt over taxes any day.)

I don't usually post funny pictures, but this one made me laugh so much that coffee came out of my nose:

Well, first of all congratulations to all World Champions (if by proxy :) i.e. the English Rugby Nation. Yes, Johnny Wilkinson is God. Or so I've been told.

Second, cleaning your apartment sucks. Especially if it hasn't been cleaned for some time. The strange thing is, once you clean it it gets really dirty in retrospect. You realize how it must have looked just before you went through it with vacuum and mop and pause a moment to shudder.

Third, SMOKING KILLS!!! I guess so, since I scrubbed about 3 kilos of tar off the TV in the living room. Eucccch. That said, today's one of the days where I really want a cigarette. The last week has been bad concerning that. I wonder why. Haven't smoked a cigarette since May, but today it feels like I stopped yesterday. Grrrrrrr...

Don't go there!!! Don't!!! CATAPULT ... it's addictive.

Oh, and by the way:

Muse Lyrics in my Head for the Day (aka Time is Running Out)

I think I'm drowning
asphyxiating
I wanna break the spell
that you've created

you're something beautiful
a contradiction
I wanna play the game
I want the friction

you will be
the death of me
yeah, you will be
the death of me

bury it
I won't let you bury it
I won't let you smother it
I won't let you murder it

our time is running out
and our time is running out
you can't push it underground
we can't stop it screaming out

I wanted freedom
but I'm restricted
I tried to give you up
but I'm addicted

now that you know I'm trapped
sense of elation
you'll never dream of breaking this fixation
you will squeeze the life out of me

bury it
I won't let you bury it
I won't let you smother it
I won't let you murder it

our time is running out
and our time is running out
you can't push it underground
we can't stop it screaming out
how did it come to this

you will suck the life out of me

bury it
I won't let you bury it
I won't let you smother it
I won't let you murder it

our time is running out
and our time is running out
you can't push it underground
we can't stop it screaming out

how did it come to this

The comments are acting up again .. I did a serious double take when I saw 12 comments under one of my posts but it was just Alex telling me Michi was getting married. 12 times! That's a serious wedding promise. This was just beat by K. who wrote me 15 e-mails to tell me Sevilla was fun :)

And speaking of weddings, I am now officially the best man. Now I was told it was tradition the best man sleeps with the bridesmaid at the wedding. But I think the bridesmaid is also married and I don't know whether I'm her type, so I might not get lucky after all. However, I'm thinking of buying this hat for the occasion. What do you think? As of now you have 1 day and 23 hours to tell me your opinion.

Today's morning was grise et triste. It can't be said differently - I'm imprinted by my years in school. As soon as the subject of weather enters my head, my French lessons' "grise et triste" enters my head, even if it's le matin and as such gris. But then I've never cared much about grammar anyhoo. Another brainwash thing is that as soon as the movie Highlander is mentioned, I tend to stick my tongue out as far as I can and grow "Coooougan!!!" as was customary in grade 10.

Now it's nice and sunny and I don't quite know whether I enjoy working or not. But at least I am drinking tomato juice. Yum. (This blog seems to contain an awful lot about food lately, I don't quite know what the matter is).

But just wait until I'm posting all of my vacation pictures - you'll be glad about the food descriptions then. What's your favourite food? I really like sushi (duh) and potatoes. Not at the same time, though. And no fried potatoes thankyouverymuch. And chocolate. Actually, I basically like eating. Maybe it's easier to write about what I don't like. Pig's knuckles in aspic. But who does, apart from my Dad. Not to fond of aniseed or fennel. Sweet liquor of any kind (Amaretto, Baileys, yuck!). Food that looks at me. Shrimps and such. Eek! Fish fingers. Anything containing ground meat except burgers.

That's about all I can think of right now. Chances are high that I'll get back and post some more later.

These people want your soul.
I think I should sell mine. It's only slightly rumpled and what do I need it for anyway... Any buyers?

Your soul is worth £35153. For your peace of mind, 23% of people have a purer soul than you.

Step up and get it while it's still hot!

Want to unburden YOUR soul of the heavy load that is all the mp3s you downloaded off the internet illegally? Send them back!

Ah. Doesn't that feel better? I think my soul just went up a pound or two.

And to reinforce your belief that I'm not working a bit (which is not true but hey!) I'll share with you that, according to Quizilla, I was written by this woman:



Dorothy Parker writes you,
you wonderfully urbane,
witty boozehound, you.


Which Author's Fiction are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

I kinda like that.

Food, food, food

I am obsessed with Sushi. I don't know why but I want to eat some every day. That's loads expensive and maybe a bit obsessive. But I once read that Robbie Williams (*scream*) lost a lot of weight by just eating Sushi for a month. Of course then twelve angry horses couldn't drag me to a Sushi restaurant. I can't really remember why I tried it again ... but now I am addicted.

Strange how there's food that you really hate and then you try it and WHAM! Take coffee for example. Nobody likes it at first but hey! once you're into coffee you're usually really into coffee. Javajavajavajava... What else? Brussels sprouts. I used to hate them as a kid but then I thought - maybe now I'll like them? And I did. By the way I always liked spinach. My dad claims that's because I liked to watch Popeye, but I think I just like the taste. Not the leafy kind, though. Yuck. I also don't particularly like Spinach mixed with anything. Onna pizza, for example.

This reminds me of another thing: There is food that doesn't satisfy me. Spinach is one of them. I can eat tons of spinach and never stop. I don't mind, I like it, but it's just not a meal. Also sweet food. Pancakes and things. Kaiserschmarrn. Germknödel. Most soups. I'll just eat and eat and never stop.

Work was strangely uneventful. It was like always, just now I have my own office. No business cards, though. Bother.

Thought for the day

Why is it that some women seem to have those strange eating habits? Let me tell you what I mean: Usually they'll say: "Boy, am I hungry." Then they'll eat half a salad leaf and a grape and go: "Whew, I'm stuffed! I ate like a pig. So much food. How could I eat ALL THAT FOOD?" All the while I'll sit next to them and I really am hungry. And when I say that I mean it. Then I tend to eat more than half a salad leaf and a grape.

So what's the deal? Are those women really hungry or are they just pretending. Why can't they just say: "I can't eat anything else..." and leave it at that? But no...they always have to point out HOW MUCH they ate. Since I ate at least double the amount, I get the feeling nobody eats more than me and I hate that. But I like eating. I couldn't survive on nothing at all.

I remember the days I had at Jungle Jim's. Ah, those burgers...ah, that Spudmania...ah, that Pie-in-the-Sky...*sigh*

Well, I'm back. As soon as I get the pictures online I will provide you with a detailed description of my Turkey experience.

Newsflash: My brother is going to marry his girlfriend in July. Haven't decided yet whether that makes me feel old or what. They expressly forbid me to take a cat to the wedding as my own "life partner", since I'm lacking in that department. But I am allowed to wear a hat. And you probably remember how good I look in hats.

I'm going to work today and I'm a bit nervous (which explains the early time of this post). Don't quite know why because I've worked there a gazillion times. Never with a title, though. I wonder if I get business cards.

Post-Celebration Blog Entry

Felt a little bit woozy all day yesterday (for no apparent reason *ahem*) so I just vegged on the couch, not lifting a finger. Hence I need to blog today what went through my mind yesterday. Might be a little bit non-linear.

First: a fun link, even if it takes a bit long to load:

End of the World as we know it

Then:

I was watching the European MTV awards yesterday and here are my thoughts:

• Beforehand, the viewers were warned the show might contain offensive material. Now isn't it basically a requirement for starlets to wear as little as possible and for rock stars to vomit on stage? Why does MTV issue these warnings - it's pointless. OK, there was a part with COMPLETE FRONTAL NUDITY (gasp).
  
• In the morning, when he was painting a blue stripe across his face, Michael Stipe probably didn't foresee he was going to be "interviewed" by Kelly Osbourne about hair products and the fact that Christina Aguilera wouldn't talk to her. Just saying.
  
• Do I want to see Justin Timberlake on stage when Robbie Williams is also nominated? Can you spell "rethorical question"?
  
• Christina Aguilera increasingly looks like a roast chicken.
  
• The nudity bit was lame - it was supposed to look like the bit in "Hair", but the producers didn't stop to think that nobody in the audience had even heard of "Hair". Therefore it looked rather pointless. Nude people were holding signs that said "No war" (how YESTERDAY) and then lifted them over their head. Some of the sign holders were trying to cover their genitals with their hands. How pathetic.
  
• I really don't like the White Stripes and they suck live. At least they were singing live, most people were only lip-synching. Badly, I might add.
  
• Realized I had never seen Vin Diesel before. Then realized that really wasn't a problem.
  
• Funny part: Chris Pontius announcing the White Stripes had won and when they got up, yelling "No, it's Coldplay, really." Heh heh. Otherwise: Jackass sucks, too.
  
• Embarassing moment: when MTV Germany pretended its VJs were live on stage "Hello Edinburgh!" while nobody in their right mind would have mistaken the three amused onlookers in the background for the crowd in the main show.

Other than that:

I am going on holiday!

One week, all inclusive, Turkey. Yay! See you next Friday.

Yay! It's done! Finished university today. (At least if I didn't fail any of my written exams - which I doubt, but you never know.) Anyway. From now on, you may call me Ms. Dipl.-Psych. Or just Ma'am. Whichever you prefer. Cheers.

Waste more time on eighties music here:



I only scored 60, which means

a) that I had my head in the sand during most of the eighties
b) that I usually just sing along going mumblemumble while I have no clue what the lyrics actually are
c) that song lyrics tend to drop out of my head at an alarming rate
d) that my mind is slowly going
e) that I definitely need a music joker when going to Who wants to be a millionaire?

Oh, and these days I usually wake up with a song in my head. Don't know exactly why. The day before yesterday it was Boogie Nights...well, that was because I played a game featuring that song on the eyetoy, but I played that a week ago, so I don't know why it was in my head just now. Yesterday it was True Colours...well, that was because I fell asleep during *shudder* Fame Academy where a candidate was practising that song (unfortunately the one who is least able to hold a note - and that means something in Fame Academy, let me tell you!!!). And this is what's in my head today (and this time I've really got no clue how it got there - I even had to google the lyrics to find out what song it was):

Zwan

Of A Broken Heart

if only i die
just once in my life
if only to try
to take a guess, to be the best
a feeling i hide
that runs this world, that keeps us alive
i want you to climb with me

until i die of a broken heart
a broken heart
until i die of a broken heart
a broken heart
until i die

the heart of a child
is in your hands now
so let's see you smile
'cause i'm not impressed with your loneliness
and it's been a while
since you forgave all your changes made
so let's count the miles together

until i die of a broken heart
a broken heart
until i die of a broken heart
a broken heart
until i die of a broken heart
a broken heart
until i die

if only i die
just once in my life
if only to try together

until i die of a broken heart
a broken heart
until i die of a broken heart
a broken heart
until i die of a broken heart
a broken heart
until i die

If you have a song playing in your head, here's the place to let it out and let it free. Run like the wind, little song, run!

I'd like you all to take a moment to consider what it means to be able to Google again. I have to thank this man:

Thank you. :)

I retract everything nasty I said about the website my computer kept redirecting to when I tried to access Google. They had nothing to do with it, it's a virus (I wonder where my computer keeps getting those - is he sneaking around at night, visiting dangerous unhealthy places??). Anyway. Just trying to get rid of the damn thing and then it's Google Away! again.

Now I need to go and find my notes on the subject my exam on Wednesday will be about. That and I need to clean the apartment. And wash.

By the way, I am going on a vacation next week...wheee! Booked a week-long trip to Turkey. I certainly hope there still will be some sun because I am as white as a fish's underbelly in the deepest areas of the Mariana's Trench. Though I once saw a documentation on sea creatures of the deep and this metaphor/analogy/whateverfigureofspeechitis might just mean I have big purple spots on my face that are glowing in the dark. Yikes.

And I still am a bit nervous about starting to work. I don't know why really, I've worked in a lot of places before. Hm. I wonder if I'll get a business card. Yay. I'll go and visit my future workplace on Wednesday after my exam, I guess, to take a look at my office and everything.

Now I'll check my mail, if I find links that are fun I might be back to post them later.

Happy Hallowe'en, everybody!

Dear students. Today we're going to learn about the important lessons that life (and Cosmopolitan) teach us. We're going to study the

10 Signs He's "THE ONE"

1. He looks at Pamela Andreson centrefolds and insists he doesn't know what the big deal is.
Great. I don't think I've ever met a guy who a) really liked Pamela Anderson (compared to, say Cameron Diaz) or b) would admit it. So I guess pretty much everybody qualifies. Yay for us.

2. He spends the weekend with your family and still wants to date you.
Are you saying there's a problem with my family? Are you talking to me? Do you feel lucky, punk?

3. Instead of a Sunday kick about, he offers to spend the day in bed, painting your toenails and giving you back rubs.
Hm. Sounds to me like "THE ONE" is gay. I mean who could derive any joy from painting toenails. Even if it's your girlfriend, come on. I'd sneer at a man who'd do that. That, and I don't particularly like back rubs. Spending the day in bed, why not, but why should he do it if he doesn't want to. Stupid rule, that #3.

4. He doesn't fall asleep immediately after sex.
Well, that's good. That way he can watch *me* sleep and pick his nose or something. I'm not going to stay awake, so Mr "PansyboystaysinbedonSundays" has something to cuddle. Nosirree.

5. He lets you use his toothbrush when you crash at his place.
Ewwwwww. Well, I'm going to use it anyway, but "lets you use his toothbrush"? What kind of a rule is that?

6. He leaves you cute, little loving messages every day at work and has done for the past two years.
a) Embarrassing
b) Annoying
c) Stalker?
d) All of the above

7. Even after seeing you covered in a mud mask and stuffing your face with ice cream he still looks at you the same way he did the moment he first saw you.
Are you kidding me? Do you know how *cute* I look wearing a mud mask? And he's probably stuffing his face with ice cream, too, so who's he to talk??

8. When you argue with him, he never chalks it up to your PMS.
That's actually a good thing.

9. He brings you daisies just because it's Tuesday.
This rule sets up totally unrealistic expectations because NO MAN will ever bring you flowers for no reasons EXCEPT when threatened at gunpoint. Maybe, but only maybe you might change the rule to ...just because it's your birthday... but don't count on it. Flowers and men just don't mix. Honestly. If you believe in that rule, "THE ONE" will be forever beyond your grasp. THEY JUST DON'T DO IT. Don't nag them. It's not in their genes. Cosmopolitan has aggravated many a relationship with rules like these.

10. He insists on waking up at 5am to take you to the airport.
Doubtful, and I'm not sure I'd expect it. Nice, of course

Honestly, who thinks of stupid things like these. And are there women who believe in them?? Who reads Cosmopolitan other than to point out ridiculous things and laugh?? There must be some people. Dear me.

Feeling woozy today. I hate colds. You're not really sick, but can't really do anything, my head feels like it's filled with huge soggy cotton balls. The cats like it, though, since I am curled up in bed acting as a huge human heating pad for their curling up needs.

News from the dating front: Not only has Mr X written me an e-mail on Sunday and called on Monday, NO!! He wrote me another e-mail yesterday asking if we could meet again on Friday. Sigh. I feel really stupid about this because I have no idea why I would rather cut my toenails on Friday than meet him again. It was a nice date on Saturday... but still when I think about meeting him on Friday I really, really don't want to. How does one wrap that up nicely? I have no idea. Maybe I should just meet him on Friday but then say - that's it. Maybe I should put a stop to it rightaway which probably would only be fair. That and it would save awkward time on Friday. I hate this. Dating sucks. I'm not doing it again. Not that I object to going out with men, I object to the process of dating. OBJECTION, your honor!

So now I am lying in bed, my head is empty and I don't know what to say on the phone tonight. Pffhtmph! And my TV is in the other room. Crap.

Immenent Danger of Sinusses making Head Explode Leads to Link Day!!

a) Quick, everybody to the left! (No actual children were harmed during this incident) Tee hee.

b) This looks like fun. I've always wanted my own magazine.

c) Optical illusions rule!

d) News flash: Urinal Test says I am probably a woman!

e) A time waster for people good at song lyrics (practice here for your time as music joker when I am on Who wants to be a millionaire?)

Oh, and one thing more: not only did my date write an e-mail, no! he also called yesterday. Which unfortunately made me realize I did not either look forward to him calling me again or us meeting any time soon. Why? I have no idea. I'm feeling rather depressed about this. I think I need a hug. (This may be the fever talking, though :)

Disclaimer: After I wrote this, I read it and found it to be severely lacking in content, grammar and spelling. But my head feels totally stuffy from my nose up and my eyes are practically swollen shut. So please disregard any mistakes you'll find in this entry

So. The laptop is still not doing what it's supposed to do, but at least I coaxed my desktop into accessing the internet. Apparently I had to sacrifice Google for that, but who needs Google anyway. Let me tell you what happened in the meantime.

Friday

Muse concert. Yeah. That was fun!! The only problem was that the concert was in a huge hall (the Zenith, if you must know) where the sound was a little bit off. But that wasn't too bad. I've been listening to Muse ever since, dreaming of the Stroboskop-Piano. And this is what's going through my head all day and won't leave:

There's a part in me you'll never know
the only thing I'll never show

hopelessly I'll love you endlessly
hopelessly I'll give you everything
but I won't give you up
I won't let you down
and I won't leave you falling
If the moment ever comes

It's plain to see it's trying to speak
cherished dreams forever asleep
hopelessly I'll love you endlessly
hopelessly I'll give you everything
but I won't give you up
I won't let you down
and I won't leave you falling
if the moment ever comes

hopelessly I'll love you endlessly
hopelessly I'll give you everything
but I won't give you up
I won't let you down
and I won't leave you falling
but the moment never comes

Saturday

Date. The date went surprisingly well. He turned out to be really nice, smart, not ugly and we had coffee and dinner and talked till 2 a.m. No sparks, though. Hmmm. I have the notion that he liked me, though, which is supported by the fact he wrote me an e-mail saying he really enjoyed the date and we really needed to get together again. Hmmmm.

Sunday

Bad mood day. Woke up and was severely distressed by the laptop issue. I hate it when things go wrong out of no apparent reason and there's nothing I can do to fix them. Plus, traipsing around the internet using the Mac really really got on my nerves. It's the little niggling things that got on my nerves like constantly using the wrong key or losing something I wrote or not being able to tap the touchpad to click. That and my roommate's Mac has this itty bitty screen where I had trouble reading anything. Grrrrr. Nevermind. I'm all calm now. Anyway, I was in a really bad mood all day, which wasn't alleviated by the fact that everybody around me seemed to be, too. Went and saw "Kill Bill" in the evening.

Kill Bill

Hmhmhm. I don't quite know what to say about this film. It's very "Tarantino". So if you don't like that, the film will be a lost case for you. I am rather ambivalent. I do like Tarantino, so that's not a problem (although I am refusing to watch Pulp Fiction ever again). But the film was strangely uninvolving. It started out very intriguing but then jumped all over the place while you knew all the time what would happen in the next sequence (either because you saw it in the trailer or because you were basically told in the scene before). That was very different from Pulp Fiction where you had the single scenes that connected but you could connect all the dots only at the very end which made it amusing to watch the first time and then all over again. Here, you don't really care. There's no real plot either. Lots of characters, but no real plot. Which is OK up to a point, because the characters all have their little backstories which are little plots all alone.

The film is well crafted, though. I mean, you can tell there went a lot of effort into making this picture. I don't really watch old Japanese movies but you could tell that Tarantino has and is lovingly trying (and probably succeeding) to recreate the atmosphere of those films. (I'd like to take a moment here and point out again the atrocious LXG where the comic it was based on was butchered by everybody involved) Kill Bill is like an animé film come to life (at one point it even stays animé which is really spectacular, but I've always liked animé, so there). That means it's over the top sometimes and that (in my opinion) doesn't always work. Like when you have a beautiful poetic fight scene which ends with one participant having the top of the skull sheared off, you can see the brain and the whole audience laughs. Works in animé maybe where a head with the brain looking out might not seem as ridiculous.

But I still liked the film somehow. I'll give it a sideways thumb. I think it's probably best, however, to wait until part two comes out and watch the whole thing in one sitting.

A word of advice on the soundtrack: it sort of conveys the "PulpFictionVibe" to me which means you buy it, you enjoy it, you listen to it and three months later you're ready to hire a steamroller to crush every CD of the soundtrack ever made.

Monday

(which is today) Now I have a cold, which probably contributed to my bad mood yesterday. Hence I will go take a bath now. I probably forgot to say stuff I wanted to say, but hey! I'll just return and say more.

My computer won't access the internet anymore and I hate the Mac so much it hurts.

Do you want the Flu? or Athlete's Foot? Ooh, I want an Ulcer!

My grandma's funeral was quite sad. I was only partly cheered up by the strange customs the catholic church has. For example: They kept referring to "the next person whose turn it is". This evoked the mental image of a) people playing Russian roulette or b) Death standing there and pointing his bony skeletal finger: YOU! and people going: No, take HIM! No, HER! and pushing each other forward or c) people standing in line at one of these take-a-number-machines with a huge sign that says DEATH. The device ding changes to the next number and people stealthily check their tickets to see if their number has come up. Anyway.

Now for something completely different. More cheerful, too (possibly). My Saturday date called again this evening and the conversation was actually quite fun. He had called me on Tuesday and I was kind of worried because the conversation then somewhat got on my nerves. Today was fine, though. So I'm actually looking forward to Saturday now. Sortofkindof.

And since I am already looking forward to tomorrow that means things can and will go wrong. Yikes. What will happen? It's supposed to snow and I have no snow tires. Maybe it's me whose time will come up tomorrow. Hit by the Muse tour bus? I actually seem to know the tour manager (thank you for pointing that out, Sven) which probably means I could have gotten in for free, so I can probably chalk that up to "bad experience" and thus equalize my karma. Then again, maybe I wouldn't have gotten in for free, so I'll slip on a banana peel in front of the stage and break a leg. Yup, that must be it.

Listening to Miss Misery of Elliot Smith which makes me cry and also want to shove an Oscar statue down all the voters' throats who voted for My Heart will go on.

I'm sorry I'm not updating my blog as I could but I'm not feeling quite up to much at the moment. Tomorrow I have to go to my grandma's funeral which will not be any kind of fun whatsosever. I hope the weekend will cheer me up: on Friday I'll go to the Muse concert, on Saturday I have a date and on Sunday I'll go and see Kill Bill. Just so you know.

the good, the sad and the ugly

First the sad: My grandma died on Thursday rather unexpectedly. Actually, when she was admitted to the hospital they said she wouldn't survive the week, but she was actually doing better recently and my parents had an appointment with a social worker to see how her rehab was supposed to work out. Well, nothing of the sort, apparently...I shall miss her. So it goes :((

That of course meant that my parents had to stay home from the wedding in England and I just went with my brother. That in turn meant we suddenly were converted from the supporting act to the main course. But it was actually fun. I'll give you the full rundown - including assorted pictures. (Me like wedding pictures. If you're like me, the full thing is here at Pixum. 150 pictures in glorious technicolour. If you chicken out at the prospect of about 20 pictures of people throwing confetti you might just want to follow my other links)

We were picked up at the airport by Chris who is
a) the groom's brother
b) my brother's exchange student from ages ago
c) the best man
d) all of the above.
Chris of course immediately informed me that we were going to miss the best rugby game EVER because of the bloody wedding (FYI it ended England 25 South Africa 6. There was a spectacular dropkick(??) goal by Johnny Somethingorother who also did an advert with David Beckham and could, indeed, bend it much better than the man himself. Or so I am told). I was also informed that David Blaine (who??) was exiting his box but alas! I couldn't go throw stuff at him since the happy event took place on Sunday when I would have already left.

We then met up with the groom (Tony) who did not leave his phone all evening other than the moments he was trying to write his speech for the wedding day. He was trying to get help from a wedding speech book that suggested using humor and included jokes such as this:
Two cannibals are walking through the jungle when they suddenly encounter a beautiful maiden. Says the younger cannibal: "Uncle Reg! Let's take the maiden home and cook her!" Says the older cannibal: "No, Bob. Let's take her home and cook Aunt Mabel!"
I actually laughed, because I
a) am easily amused
b) everybody should laugh at a cannibal named "Uncle Reg"
c) all of the above
Anyway, we did not quite see what this joke had to do with a wedding and decided to ditch the speech book. As I understand Tony was still writing the speech at 1 a.m. (and he actually did include Uncle Reg - just for me, awww :)

The next day everybody dressed up. Very impressive: the Queen Mom aka Heather. I think everybody was wearing that hat at some point. I am thinking I look rather splendid. Not everybody can wear a handbag like Chris can, though.

Then the main event: Two pictures of the happy couple. And one picture of the bride and a couple of men dressed up like penguins. And bridesmaids. I actually was mistaken for one of the bridesmaids occasionally as the colour of my shawl matched their burgundy dresses (sort of). I look slightly drunk in most of the pictures, though. That's probably because I
a) was slightly drunk in most of the pictures
b) don't photograph very well
c) all of the above

Then the celebrations continued with dancing & more drinking. Contrary to folklore there were no single men whatsoever at the wedding, though. Wouldn't have mattered anyway since everybody thought I was married to my brother anyway. Sigh. Well, it was a nice wedding and I had fun.

The next day we watched some rugby (Ireland trounced Namibia, Wales barely escaped Tonga) and I discovered I actually might like rugby. At least I involuntarily cheered an Irish try(??) by yelling: "Go, little Irish man!" I am informed that (after England, of course), Ireland are jolly good at rugby. Then we went shopping at Sainsbury's where I was laughed at because I pounced on a tin of syrup (come on, it was the brand the Naked Chef uses!!) and went on a magazine buying rampage. Go! Hello! You name it, I bought it. It wasn't my fault! We also took one of the bridesmaids with us and she was in line before me, counting out all her change and I'm an impulse checkout shopper. (She wasn't very friendly anyway and kept sneering at me when I was compulsively throwing crisps and other baked goods into the trolley. She bought a can of baked beans and a can of tonic water. Because she needed sugar. Whatever.)

So I basically had fun in England. But now I am back home and the bad mood is creeping back in bitch, bitch, moan, moan. And the funeral's on Thursday :( Everything else is pretty dreary, including the weather. Also, my throat started hurting. On top: My Sainsbury's cranberry juice drink unfortunately tastes rather awful because I overlooked it being a diet drink. Sigh.

Put on my overknees and went shopping. The left one tends to roll down on its own. Is it supposed to do that?

Big Bird Legs

Hey, my mood is much better today. Even though I tried on the overknees and I look like a cross between Big Bird and something that crawled straight out of a Dr. Seuss book. Maybe The Lorax? Or a Sneetch. But then again, I don't have stars upon thars. I do not have them in a boat, I do not have them with a goat. (1 year of reading children's books will do that to you, although I really enjoy Hop on Pop)

Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go watch the newest episode of Gilmore Girls.

I'm sitting here and my neighbour is listening to crappy techno music like he does all afternoons. Argh.

Still in a somewhat bad mood even without the music, too. I went out and bought senseless stuff for heaps of money (overknees, anyone?). Haven' t tried anything on yet because I suspect it might not lift my spirits after all. (overknees? I repeat in a questioning voice). Anyhow, haven't washed or packed and am not prepared to go to England at all. At least I have (on loan) a black dress that I can wear and a pink shawl that I can wrap around my shoulders. No shoes, though. Is it fashionable to go barefoot, I wonder? Maybe I can tell them it's a German up and coming trend. "Yes, we all need to embrace MOTHER NATURE more."

Sigh. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go there after all.

On the bright side: I've got a date and I've got a phone number. Actually, the other way around. Well, we'll see what comes of it. Of course, he lives in Berlin and is only in Munich on the week-ends. But he owns a bunny (which - according to the vendor - was supposed to be a dwarf bunny but apparently turned out to be big-boned). Well, we'll see what (and if) anything comes of it. I'll be sure to tell you.

Hm, I wonder what the 8-ball makes of this. "It is unlikely". Thank you, magic device. It's so negative of lately. Maybe it's this Venus crashing into Mars thing or so that my roommate heard about on the radio (she wasn't too clear about it - it apparently was "early in the morning". Some excuse :). Let's check out my horoscope for today:

You will stay at home and do nothing. check
Alert!! Do not go out shopping for expensive things you don't need. Yikes, too late. NOW they tell me!

Miezebären!

FYI: I just asked my trusty 8-ball (which has actually never lied to me) and it said: Forget about it. Which is kind of what I thought as well. But you probably couldn't care less.

Anyway. If you're in the same bad mood as I am, these pictures of Catscans might cheer you up. Trust me on this one.

This weekend I'm going to a wedding in Fetcham, Surrey. And I'm worrying: What am I supposed to wear? The groom, his father and the best man are wearing tuxedos and top hats, which sounds like a rather fancy dress-up affair. I wonder whether my little black dress is appropriate or if I'm supposed to wear a floor-length affair. Oh dear, oh dear.

Next time, I'm taking a car - the Marathon

OK. Marathon day. Strangely enough, I wasn't all that excited. Well, I actually was looking forward to run, because I hadn't done a long run in quite some time. That's probably why you're supposed to take time off from running before the marathon. Anyway. My trusty marathon book said: "Go there 2 hours early", so I did. Ate my Marathonana (my roommate thoughtfully labelled it so nobody else would eat it :) and had something to drink - hydration, hydration, hydration.

Outside it was rather chilly - 10 degrees. Oh well, at least it wasn't raining. When I got there I discovered that my drinking bottle had leaked in my bag and everything was rather wet. Decided not to wear the belt with the bottle. I turned in my stuff and then I had to wait for ages. I kept thinking: Next time, I'm coming later. Then I kept thinking: What next time?? I'm not doing this again.

Then a guy asked me what he should do - I looked like an experienced marathonista. Yeah, right. I admitted I had no idea, but at least I had somebody to talk to. He did not know a thing about running a marathon which I thought astonishing - I mean, do you just decide on the drop of the hat you'd like to run 42 km? I wouldn't do that without at least looking at strategy guides or something, but he apparently didn't. He positioned himself with the "better than 4:30" people. Never saw him again after the start, so I don't know what became of him. I positioned myself with the 20 people who were waiting after the sign "worse than 4:30". Considering that everybody else had joined a better group, we dubbed ourselves the "loser group" My dad had come to see me off and took about a gazillion pictures, so later on I might be able to document this phase mor properly :)

Anyway, then we start. Everything goes rather well at the beginning. I go down Ackermannstr and Elisabethstr. with people cheering and bands playing at every corner. Then I get to the Leopoldstr., where a crazy guy keeps yelling: "Spawn of the Devil!! You'll all rot in Hell!" which makes me laugh. Then I get overtaken by the old guy with the pacemaker which in turn makes me think I am rather slow. Which I actually am. But I digress. At the Königsplatz (km 9) I meet my roommate who cheers me on and takes about a gazillion pictures, a couple of them real special effects pictures while riding her longboard:



Then back to Leopoldstr. where I have now lost contact with all the other runners, only three women are behind me. As I go in the direction of the Odeonsplatz, there are lots of people milling about and I lose track of where I am supposed to go and am sorely tempted to turn a corner into the Hofgarten. But then I remember I am supposed to cross the Marienplatz and go straigt. Marienplatz is fun because my name is announced and lots of people are there. OK, so they are there to see the Glockenspiel, but I pretend they all want to see me. At least two Japanese tourists are cheering me on which I find nice as they probably have travelled all the way over from Japan to see the Glockenspiel and now they are cheering me instead.

We are running a loop around the Rindermarkt. When I get back to the Marienplatz, I can see the car trailing the last runners. OK, so I'm not really at the beginning of the field. Nevertheless, I pretend the four runners in front of me are the top runners and I am in fifth place. That amuses me for some time. Now past the Deutsches Museum and up the hill to the Gasteig. While that's not too difficult to run up it gets me wondering how people can run a marathon that meanders up and down - the flat Munich marathon is quite enough for me thankyouverymuch. Kids are yelling at me: "Hey, lady, you're the LAST ONE!" I glance behind me - the other women have vanished. Oh dear. I console myself with the fact that maybe I am the last one of 11.000, but the 11,000^th of the 7 million Munich inhabitants. This cheers me up. That and the fact that a couple of youths have opened a window and are playing the Gypsy Kings at full blast. Volare!

Then out in the direction of the Kunstpark. I am thinking: "Hey, this just saved me 15 Euros (price of a taxi to the Kunstpark)". Then I remember I paid 55 Euros to start here. At least it keeps me amused. I have now passed km 16 and am heading for 17. Crisis! My head starts hurting from the cold and the wind and I am feeling tired. Uh-oh! I've run training runs like this tons of time and I never was tired. This doesn't bode well. At least I overtake one guy who has to walk. He's not going to make it.

Going through Berg am Laim is no fun - an industrial area, nobody else to see but the volunteers who are setting the course. I am feeling like the "Lone Jogger". At least I get to yell "juhu!" and "hello echo!" in the empty underpass since no one is there to hear me. Then I pass a lady who is wearing a yellow wig. To each his own, I think and cheer up a little. At km 20 I have a banana and start having fun again. Around the corner there's people barbecuing. They yell: "Last person will finish first!" I yell back: "It's all about the sprint at the end!" and am happy I can still yell. With my newfound energy I overtake a guy. OK, he's about 70 but I am overtaking people here!!

My spirit high lasts until about km 25. Am I going to die? I wonder. Then I check my sports watch: Pulse is rather low. I deduct from that I'm not about to die and probably should go on. Enter the Englischer Garten. By now all spectators have gone home. I am again rather lonely and don't quite know where to go. Imagine losing my way in the Englischer Garten and having to give up. But then four people overtake me. Where did they come from? Anyway, I can follow them. In the middle of the park there's a lady who yells like a drill instructor: "Pick up the pace! You ARE going to make it! I'm not standing here for NOTHING!" Somehow that perks me up.

Good thing, too, because now the path slopes upward. Great. Who thought of this course?? Now it's getting real hard and I'm out here in the wilderness all by myself going upward. I make my new mantra: "What goes up must come down! and keep chanting that. The path still goes up. At least I am passing more people who are walking on the side of the road. I am pretending to be an energy vampire and try to suck energy out of those people. (Yes, I know I'm weird but whatever keeps you running). At km 33 only the thought "I've got to meet my friends at the finish line" keeps me on my feet. I check my sports watch again. Unbelievable! My pulse has dropped. Apparently I am not as exhausted as I feel. I decide to plod on.

Plod, plod. A kid yells: "Lame snail!" and is immediately shushed by his mom. I have to laugh, because I really am rather lame. From the mouths of babes :) Plod, plod. I'm kind of wondering that I still am plodding and actually are feeling a little better. I remember the old marathon saying "the man with the hammer will hit you". I imagine a man with a hammer trying to hit me and I'm dodging him and running away, all the while yelling: "I'm escaping you, ha, ha". Am proud of myself for my uplifting mental imagery.

At 36 km I start feeling woozy again. Since my pulse has dropped again, I begin thinking that I might be on my way to my heart completely stopping or else I can still go on. The thought "6 km is only once around your training course - you've done that rather often" cheers me up. I try to imagine my training course but can't really. Plod, plod. At 39 km somebody passes me on a bike and yells "You're a finisher!". To my surprise I realize he might be right. 3 km. That's doable. I decide to be a finisher after all and keep plodding. To reward myself I plan on having a chocolate energy bar at km 40 - yay! which I do. Hmjam - heavenly chocolate. Two people who are not running but walking pass me. At this point, I don't really care.

Then I get close to the stadium. Bayern 3 provides the music - it's rather loud and I'm dreading my ears falling off but I perk up. Then I see my roommate and a friend jumping and yelling. I yell, too, jumping seems out of the question, but I actually seem to be running:



Then I enter the "space tunnel" which basically means they've doused it with disco fog so you can hardly breathe and strobe lights are blinking. I emerge into the Olympic stadium which is fun. Here I am running to the sound of the Bloodhound Gang, there's the lawn where 1860 Munich and that other football team are playing on a regular basis. I exert myself and overtake one more person. Photographers take my picture (yay me!) and then I actually cross the finish line at 4:58 (at least my watch says that)!!! Who'd have thunk???

A volunteer hangs a medal around my neck and I stagger to the place where they have food and water. The blast from the Bloodhound Gang sound out of the speakers almost takes out my eardrum. Yikes. Then I have to go up to the upper tiers to meet my friends. Oh dear. There are about a gazillion steps. My hip hurts and I hobble up the steps. Surprise! There's also my parents who have come to see me finish. Yay! I am exhausted but actually OK - even if I can't walk properly. My dad and my roommate take lots of pictures:



First thing I did afterwards, by the way is have a bratwurst, then my friends drove me home and I collapsed on the couch where I have basically stayed until today. Luckily, I have a roommate who provided me with food and water and things like that because hobbling into the kitchen was agony.

Also mentally I wasn't really able to do anything, but at least we could watch the women's team become WORLD CHAMPIONS! And I take back everything I said about women's football - it was a really good game. Though we complained about a couple of things. Hence, some tips for women football players:

• When you hit your opponent with the elbow, don't go around saying you're sorry. It's customary to lift your hands over your head and make the "Didn't do NUTHING" face.
  
• When you suspect offside, you immediately need to stop playing and lift your hand to signal the referee. Then you need to complain to the referee about the goal your opponent scored. This "going after the ball no matter what" wastes lots of energy.
  
• When you have been fouled, none of that "getting up and continuing to play" nonsense. Here you need to roll on your back and pretend you'll die any second. Live and learn.
  
• There's nothing the viewers appreciate more than a well placed high kick into the bleachers. Please stop aiming at your fellow teammates. This also prevents the viewer from having to see combinations and well-planned attempts to score a goal. We are not used to that from men's football and it could make our heads explode.

Anyway: Congratulations to the team and We are the Champions to you all. Cheers.

Decided to stay here and relax and not go gallivanting about the country the day before the marathon. And I'm noodling up. Things I've discovered: "Power-Carboloading" equals "Potato casserole". Did that today, too. I'm not worried about tomorrow - yet. If you want to come and cheer me on, feel free to do so. Just don't expect me to chat - I probably will have a hard time breathing anyway :) If you see me lying around somewhere please contact an ambulance :).

Single women, don't despair. There's hope yet.

To everybody who commented: Don't think I don't read and appreciate the comments! I always answer them, too but I think the last three or four answers I wrote just didn't show up. In one case the answer did show up but not on the counter...grrrrrr. I hate my comments program - I need to find another one, I guess. If you know a good one, please tell me.

I am currently deliberating whether I should drive to Frankfurt on Saturday. As some of you might know, Neil Gaiman is my favourite author in the whole wide world (if you don't know him, check out his blog, the link is to the left - and yes, it's really him writing). And Neil, while currently living in the U.S. is on tour through Germany. And of course, he's NOT coming to Munich but only to Hamburg, Cologne and Frankfurt. He'll be doing a reading at the Book Fair (together with Martin Semmelrogge of all people). And I'd really like to see him and maybe get a book signed. But it's four hours each way and on Sunday is the Marathon and I should stay at home, relax and prepare...decisions, decisions. Opinions?

While you contemplate my dilemma I'll entertain you with my Martin Semmelrogge story (some of you may know that as well, but it's a good one). There is this TV station in and around Munich where all day they have call in shows. Those shows usually present a really easy question, then they wait until all housewives from the east who have nothing to do call their expensive phone number and then you can win 50 Euros or some such. Anyway. I was flipping through the channels when they announced that they'd have a really difficult question next. Curiously, I stayed on the channel (Curiosity killed the cat, they say). But I was rewarded: The question was: Is our next guest going to be



a) Martin Semmelrogge or



b) Iris Berben?

In itself a rather difficult question reminiscent of Schroedinger's cat - a 50/50 chance ... predicting the future, you say? But no! There's more: To make it a little easier they had the guest ACTUALLY SITTING IN THE STUDIO. But don't worry, he was wearing a PAPER BAG OVER HIS HEAD. Now no way in hell can you mistake the leather rocker outfit clad bod of Martin Semmelrogge for the dainty figure of Iris Berben. But they kept this up for 15 minutes and I kid you not. Martin Semmelrogge sat there with the bag over his head while the presentress kept repeating: "Martin Semmelrogge or Iris Berben???" Well, he did not care, he was completely wasted (as usual, I think) and afterwards when the bag was removed tried to kiss the hostess and fell over in the process. The whole thing was hilarious - I should have called just to give a contribution to comedy.

I am racked with pain - the eyetoy gave me sore muscles...ouch! Only three more days til the Marathon (gulp), by the way. Today I was cycling to University to return my books (yay!) and I saw signs everywhere "Marathon will go through here" which is kind of funny, since I myself have no idea where we'll go - but apparently everywhere in Schwabing. If you want to check out the page it's here. I actually have a start number :) It's 6504. I'm excited.

Today in RTL2 news: Russian scientists find yeti leg. Oh my. Why do we even bother watching this? In real news: Vatican says condoms don't protect against AIDS. This reminds me I have to leave the church now that I am actually supposed to pay church tax. No way in hell (no pun intended) am I supporting this crap financially.

And in other science news: I just found our science experiment in the kitchen. It consists of a tomato that my parents gave me (among other fruits in a fruit basket) for my "name day". Maybe you recall when that was, if you don't, don't worry because it's been rather long: August 27. Ewwww...I can hear you say, picturing a mouldy tomato with a long green beard. But!!! It still looks like it did when I first got it. We suspect it being genetically engineered. I'll keep you posted on its progress.

Another one of them time-wasters: RSVP.

Cheapest Ipod ever.

I spy with my little Eyetoy

So today after vegging on the couch I decided to reward myself. So I went to the store and spontaneously bought myself an Eyetoy. And boy, is that fun. It consists of a little camera that you position on top of the TV and little games that are controlled by your body movements via said camera. When we set it up we joked about today's fat kids who can't move a little in front of the TV without being out of breath. Do we ever need to eat crow...or better not eat anything, because that thing is exhausting as hell.

There are 12 games, and each of them means you have to wave your arms wildly around to wash windows, explode rockets, kung fu your opponents into oblivion, dance the boogie, or spin UFOs for example. I am drenched in sweat and dread tomorrow because my muscles are going to be so sore...but that was 56 Euros well invested!

Oh, and other good news: my boss called today to let me know tomorrow she'll pick up my contract at the main company office. I can then sign it and my work experience will definitely start November 15^th. Yay me. So now I am officially on holidays.

Arnie, the Governator.

Two strange Linky Links

Stealth Disco. It's a new trend.

Just in time to prepare for Halloween: Extreme Pumpkins.

Snow?? WTF?? I'm not prepared! Anyway. Was out with Katrin and we saw Swimmingpool which was OK if a tad boring at the beginning. Features a lot of gratuitous breast shots, though (French movie!), so I probably should recommend it to guys. Then we went to have coffee and I thought if I had lots of money, I'd buy one of those large coffee makers they have in restaurants. Problem is, I don't like to use the foam valve. So in addition I'd need somebody to operate the foam valve. "Hey, what's your job?" "I'm a foam valve operator at Ms. D's. The rich chick. The *very* rich chick."

Boy, it sure takes long to have your boiler decalcified. I had to wait around for three hours and keep the kitties company because they couldn't leave the room so they wouldn't leave the apartment. Of course, they were *really* interested what was happening in the kitchen. Why, I'd like to know because the boiler guy sure was uninteresting as hell. Reeked, too. Oh, well, toiling at boilers all day doesn't make you smell like roses. I sort of resent that he smoked in the kitchen, though. Not that we don't smoke in there (well, I don't, but that's beside the point) but he couldn't know that. He should at least have asked for permission. But I didn't catch him in the act, when I came out it just vaguely smelled like smoke and there was ash in one of our ashtrays. Picky, picky, picky me. But now he's finally gone.

So I got to watch all the RTL morning shows. First "My wedding" where I'm always glad I'm not marrying. At least not one of those people. Then "Dr. Stefan Frank (The Doctor Women Trust)". Today they aired the very first episode. Sad, because that means now we'll have to go through the whole thing again! Good, because a) I'll be working soon and hence miss it anyway and b) I got to see what happened to Dr. Stefan Frank's wife (went ka-blam on a boat five minutes into the episode). Then "Family Feud". Stupid people, as usual. Name a mountain in the Alps. "Mount Everest". Uh huh. I have no idea whatsoever about geography and I would have been pressed hard to think of another mountain besides "Zugspitze" but even I know that Mount Everest != Alps. Or even =! Alps, I keep forgetting where the exclamation mark goes. Whatever: Alps it ain't.

Then "Punkt 12". Juliette of Superstar fame is Sexiest Woman Alive or some such. The new Superstar series is on its way. Dieter Bohlen and the Superstar jury relax somewhere. It's "Superstar News at 12", apparently. Then SAM (Superfluous Afternoon Magazine). They interview a woman whose husband apparently killed two women and now is in prison. She doesn't believe it. Just imagine you come home and the police are there because your husband's a killer. I guess I'd have a hard time believing it either...

Now Arabella. D! of Popstars fame is a guest today. Yikes! He's only three years older than I. At least he claims to be only three years older. Since I claim to be five years younger that makes at least eight in total.

Do I need to do something constructive today? Nah. I think I'll call Katrin who's recovering from a cold. Then we can go to the movies or something. Once I'm working I won't be able to veg out anymore anyway.

Mr. Stupid Beard. And what's that growing out of his head? Looks like the Matrix to me.

I feel old .. while everybody went to the Oktoberfest I stayed home all day yesterday, then went out to have burgers (yum, yum, burgers) and finally stayed home to drink beer and play video games. And what is probably worse: I enjoyed it :) Then I fell asleep on the couch while playing the game. Oy.

I had the thought while playing the game that having a flamethrower could come in handy in real life. Somebody parks in your spot? *britzel* Somebody skips in line? *singe his eyebrows off*. Then again, game behaviour might be frowned upon. ON the other hand, beating somebody over the head with a big wrench might be enjoyable at times. And there's really no wrong time for blowing up shit (as the manic programmer said in the "Making of...").

Today I cemented my status as a vegetable by playing the frigging game again and again (100.000 bolts, a gazillion skill points and 4 gold bolts later). My bad conscience at least brought me to clean our stylish new living room AND the kitchen. Tomorrow needs to be more active.

Oh, and I found a movie critic whose opinion mirrors exactly what I thought about the abominable Bad Boys II. The more I've been thinking about the movie the more it annoys me in retrospect.

What am I doing now? Watching Popstars. Casting shows, yay. For everybody who hates them - don't read the next paragraph, I want to say some things about the bands.

[Reality Show Alert]

a) Girl Band

Why in God's name did they pick Miriam? I mean, I've never met anybody by that name who wasn't dumb as a rock. She seems no exception. Plus, she looked like something the cat dragged in. That is, if the cat is out hunting for zebras. Who in their right mind would be wearing a tank zebra top, a skirt straight out of the eighties and big loop earrings (and a bad perm)? Somebody from the eighties, that is.

But the worst decision has to be the band name. The PreLuderS??? Whoever thought of that band name should be taken out and shot quietly. Or loudly to set an example.

b) Boy Band

Aaaaargh! Akay aka Mr Stupid Beard will grace the title pages of many a youth magazine and insult my eyes. Please please make him shave it. And lose a couple of pounds. Us women have to maintain a good figure and we demand equality. And why Marc? To harvest the 12-13 year old audience. He sticks out like a sore thumb among the other boys. Oh well, maybe I'm just not the target group.

Band Name? OverGround. Gulp. I guess they have to thank the Lord and be happy they were not the "AfterBurnerS" to match the "PreLuderS"

[/Reality Show Alert]

Now off to watch Kalkofe.

Went to the Oktoberfest today to ride rides - and I must have misremembered something. But I distinctly remember riding the Eurostar and having lots of fun. Today it was awful. My head kept hitting the headrest and I think I broke my ear. It was raining like hell, too. Other than that we had fun.

Why am I blogging so late? I went to the movies and saw (shock horror) Bad Boys II. I think a couple of brain cells have gone and died miserably. Boy, was that boring. BOOOORING!!! If you see the trailer, slap your knee and say: "That them negroes sure are funny!", maybe this is the film for you. If you enjoy jokes about erection problems, you also picked the right movie. If you don't like explosions STAY AWAY!! RUN!!! But I've got to admit it's one heck of a stylish movie. Boy is it ever stylish. If I ever have to make a movie I'll hire that cinematographer. Wow. But apart from glamour it's lacking everything else.

Nuff said, if you watch it don't come running to me and complain. I warned you.

I had a couple of great thoughts that I wanted to blog and share with you, but that movie chased them all out of my head. Maybe I'll remember tomorrow then I'll get back to you.

Ouch

The infection has spread to my kidneys now, so I am in quite a lot of pain as I write this and I will be until Monday when I can get antibiotics from my doctor. Ouch. So if the following doesn't seem coherent please forgive me.

First off, my computer apparently decided yesterday it doesn't want to venture into the world wide web anymore. Don't have the slightest idea why - I didn't really change anything or even work on it, it just doesn't do it. Strangely enough, the connection works - Kazaa is still working, only the internet browsers do not work anymore. Anybody know why that is?

Anyway. So I wanted to use the laptop (since that has decided to dip its toes into internet water once again - also rather randomly, I didn't do anything either). Turns out when dipping, it contracted the Blaster Virus. So I spent most of the afternoon / evening fixing the thing - which takes forever. Now everything seems alright.

Yesterday evening was a good one. Watched the Champions League game with Silke, Tinisch & Paul. Sadly (for him) and happily (for us), ManU lost and Stuttgart won. Well, in case ManU ever plays Bayern München during the tournament, I *will* cheer them (ManU, that is), I promise, but yesterday I had to be patriotic. And I discovered that playing with my Playstation is a lot more fun without the thought of an impending exam lingering in the back of your head. Well, I mostly did the watching and cheering thing, but that's what I am famous for :) and strangely enough I do enjoy that as much as playing myself. And especially when you drop off the metal runway for the umpteenth time it's such a relief to just hand the controller to somebody who actually controls the damn thing :)

In other news (boring recipe talk): My Tiramisu turned out pretty good - even though I did not use Marco's Supreme Tiramisu Recipe (mainly because I didn't know it existed). Please point me to it if you find the time, Marco and I promise I'll use it next time :))

Oh, and I ruined my parking karma, because I took somebody's parking space (I ranted about somebody doing that to me and now I am guilty, guilty, guilty.) Hm, thinking back to that incident makes me wonder whether I just evened out the karma. But at least I have the excuse that the incident happened when my kidneys started hurting and I just wanted to get home and second that I did not quite know he wanted to actually park. Yeah, yeah.

But since I never win anything, I probably should be entitled to some privileges. Boni? Whatever...good stuff. Yes. On the great balance of life, I want some stones put into the OTHER end of the scale. It's only fair. Then again, I read this: "If life was fair that would mean you DESERVED everything that happened to you." Yikes!