...getting rained on in Tokyo.
...old enough to drink alcohol but not old enough to know when to stop.
...blogging since 02/22/03.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
ebay will be my death I didn't think ebay would lead to my untimely demise when I was looking for a way to get in shape for summer. In a fit of insanity I figured the best way to do it would be to substitute my commute on the public transportation with a bike ride. A workout each day with no extra time invested. Pure genius, right? Little did I know that picking up the bike I bought on ebay involved meeting up at a metro station at night. That sounded suspicious so I brought a friend* along.
When I took my latest purchase for a test spin I realized that my concerns for my health have been misdirected. The seller was a harmless nice man without any knives or guns on his person. Instead of dying in a dark alley by stab wounds, it's more likely that riding the bike will do me in.
All food and nothing much else in Mitte and Prenzlauer Berg Whenever TF is coming to town, it's a culinary marathon: This man likes to eat. The plus is that he's happy as long as you provide him with something to chomp on. I ran out of food after Saturday's breakfast, so we had coffee and a spinach quiche while shopping. For dinner we washed down some excellent sashimi and sushi with plenty of sake at Kuchi.
On Sunday we had brunch at Nosh that served an unusual dessert made out of ice cream, biscuit, pudding, blueberries and nuts. We made a failed attempt at doing something besides eating and tried to join the festivities for the 50th anniversary of the EC but gave up quickly ("The people! Lots of them! Everywhere!"). The last restaurant of the weekend was al contadino sotto le stelle which probably has the most delicious Italian food and wine in Mitte.
Now that TF is on his way back to Amsterdam, I can finally digest and pray that my own private version of The Very Hungry Caterpillar will turn me into a butterfly instead of just merely fat.
Turn over a sober leaf Enough with the moping. Before I found myself singing "All by myself" with an empty vodka bottle as a mike, I have gotten a grip on myself. I define pathetic in so many ways already, there's really no need to add another meaning of "sad" to my Merriam-Webster of misery. I have been on a binge drink since Monday and are healed from any heart ache as of tonight. Whoever said that alcohol doesn't solve any problems, clearly hasn't drunk enough of it yet. I count myself lucky to have "falling out of love before the body has time to cool" as one of my few talents.
Things I learned during my drinkathon:
It pays to drink lots of water.*
It costs 20€ to rebook a flight to Amsterdam.**
Never drink alone.***
It helps to have friends who burn you "I will survive" CDs.****
* Especially on weekdays. **A small price to pay for drunken online shopping. ***People you're skyping with qualify as company if they're drinking too. ****It helps even more to have friends who stop by to bring you gin and tonic.
The bunny has not left the building Welcome back, gentle reader. The boyfriend-related hiatus is as much over as my relationship is. Except for a bruised ego and a craving for inebriated oblivion, I am surprisingly ok because this time it really wasn't anything I've done but the fact that it was a hopeless long-distance relationships with no perspective. Unfortunately, I came back home to an empty fridge. Drinking champagne on my own is too pathetic so the two bottles remain safely in the pantry. I have only had a bob cut last week so I can't indulge in my post-break up tradition of cutting my hair. Any more hair removed and I'd end up like Britney. So instead I did some retail therapy on Spittlefield market earlier on today with galpal RP whom I hadn't seen for a year:
The first one is for my bruised ego and broken heart. The second one is to remind me that with all the boy-free time on my hands I can play Guitar Hero to rock the boredom away. The last one is good for nothing and I just bought it to make the triumvirate complete.
The most annoying thing about the break-up is that there is a Boy-shaped hole now where nothing was wanting before. It's like getting used to hot water: hot showers are nice but you don't really need them. And going without them sure builds character.