Much Ado About Me

2011-06-18T06:42:00.002+02:00

School of hard knocks lesson #306: Trying to feed myself
It's been a while but things have been happening that resulted in me moving to Tokyo in February. New country, new challenges, some of them involving basic tasks as feeding myself as I am an idiot who does not understand Japanese and thus have to rely on the illiterate's time tested method of guessing based on the pictures on the packaging. That approach is mostly successful but can sometimes end up in colossal failure. Such as that one time when I bought an onigiri that surprised me with an unexpected filling. Apparently a longish pink shape on the package means fish rather than hotdog in Japan.

2010-10-18T17:11:00.002+02:00

Ling means monkey in Thai
First and probably last vacation of the year, so I'm making it worthwhile and chilling with my boyfriend in a bungalow with private pool in Koh Samui. Instead of Do Not Disturb signs, they have a wooden monkey to hang on the door. How more obvious can you make it that there is monkey business going on the other side?

2010-04-12T23:20:00.003+02:00

Observation from the happiest place in the world
Nobody wears Uggs in Copenhagen.

2010-03-22T09:53:00.004+01:00

My family knows me so well
I haven't seen D, one of my Australian cousins, since I was in Australia almost four years ago. Now she's on a world trip and has included a stop in Copenhagen to come and see me.

D: It's been such a long time, so I wasn't sure what to bring. I asked myself, "What does Annie like? And then it came to me: Alcohol! Remember when you chased my cat through the living room after you were out with friends in Sydney?"

Then she proceeded to hand me a bottle of champagne.

2010-03-11T01:07:00.001+01:00

The internet was made to reinforce my misanthropy
I have developped an obsession with etiquette advice columns such as Dear Prudence and Social Q. Those columns reassure me that there are people in the universe with even pettier grievances than me. I'm still amazed that they get riled up enough to write to complete strangers about their babies being excluded from dinner party invitations. That's what sets the pros apart. Me? I'm lacking focus (plus, I want to preserve my amateur status for the Olympics, wait, they've just ended? Dang!).

The comment section of Dear Prudence is the cherry on top. I love the obnoxious commenters whose spouses and friends probably deal by penning letters to other etiquette columnists themselves. It's the internet equivalent of reality TV: you can't help but feel better when there's people who don't know that accept and except are spelt differently. Internet, I am silently judging you. Emphasis on silently.

2010-01-15T21:17:00.005+01:00

Back
Lax blogging moral turned into an unintended one year hiatus. Like always, no news is mainly good news. It meant that I either wasn't annoyed enough to sit myself down to blog or that there was no internet when I was (which would explain why I was annoyed in the first place).

My new flatshare is a major improvement to the loft of resentment that I was stewing in during 2008. My roomies are easygoing enough and their quirks only cause me Tourette-ish episodes when they commit cardinal sins such as putting their yoghurt into my shelf in the fridge.

They love me, too, I'm sure of that. How do I know? They haven't smothered me with a pillow in my sleep so far. And I've been living here for a year. Without a lock on my bedroom door. If that doesn't reek of normal social interaction, I don't know what does.

2009-01-03T11:57:00.003+01:00

Happy new year!
New Year's celebrations are either spectacularly great or spectacularly dull - the excessive expectations and the excessive alcohol consumption leave little room for anything in between. When you happen to spend new year at a Swing ball in Scandinavia, however, you're surrounded by people busy worried about they're coordination and beer that costs more than your grandmother.

With alcohol removed from the equation, my vision was unmercifully sharp when my eye caught my ~~not so secret crush~~ dance partner kissing a Swedish theology student. Immediately "It's My Party" started playing in my head and I was embarrassed that my subconscious had selected a song so cheesy and old that it could be my father. The next morning, I replaced the background music in my head with Robyn's "Be Mine!" but it's too late to cover the truth that I'm less cool than a theology student.

2008-12-12T23:23:00.007+01:00

Another valuable life-lesson about living arrangements
When the post frequency goes to the gutters, it's not for the lack of stories.

The latest development is that my roomie is moving to Africa next year. After first suggesting that I rent the entire apartment from her, she decided that she'd rather evict me. Consequently I am a weird mix of pissed and relieved: Pissed because I put up with construction in my room for about three months and willingly payed some extra for the electricity bill. Relieved because this forces me out of my ~~comfort zone~~ laziness zone and move to Vesterbro where I had wanted to live in the first place.

You'd think that from now on I'd avoid any cohabitation that does not involve a chisled boytoy but, no, I have found a new place living with three strangers. However, none of the roomies owns the apartment, so chances are pretty low that they come up with fun home improvement projects taking place in my room. Add that to the lower rent (= more beer money) and you have a happy camper. If it only weren't for the packing of a gazillion of boxes... but it beats sleeping under a bridge by miles.

2008-09-13T20:13:00.003+02:00

Nesting
I'm cruising along just fine except for my imaginary dust lung due to living in a quasi-construction site of a room. My flatmate wanted to have an additional window added to my room and the chimney running through my room taken out. With the normal and abnormal delays of the work crews, this has been dragging on for 6 weeks, enough time to get a sore back from sleeping on my sofa and miss my belongings that are stashed away in heaps in corners while more and more dust settles on them.

I take comfort in two websites:

passive-agressive notes: After reading two or three posts, I'm reminded how petty and silly all this is and that I should let go of it (I've come a long way since living with Tupperware girl in uni).

Danish real estate search: Just because I'm no passive-aggressor anymore, it doesn't mean, I can't work on better living arrangements. Now I only need to hold out for a lottery win. It might help if I started playing it.

2008-07-07T17:02:00.011+02:00

When boring is better
After the Chemical Brothers concert on Saturday night, I walked to the food stalls but instead of picking up a goodnight burrito, a boy introduced himself as Mads and started making out with me. This was pleasant enough but I was tired and slightly unwashed, so when he was distracted by talking to one of his friends, I walked away. If his attention is not 100% on me, why bother? Also, this little poster put me off festival sex a bit:

Unfortunately I didn't stick around long enough to find out whether it was for real or an art project but it sure saved me from some awkward morning-after conversations.

2008-07-07T16:29:00.002+02:00

The festival is no fashion show
Very skinny guy in very short shorts walks by.
A: See that guy in the "I (heart) animals" T-shirt?
B: Yeah?
A: Good for him. Because humans are not an option for him.

2008-07-03T16:07:00.004+02:00

Rock out
The weather gods have unexpectedly graced the Roskilde festival goers with fantastically good weather that my yellow rubber boots that I bought specifically for this event have not been baptised yet. There are shirtless Scandinavian men all over the place, so I'm not complaining. It's my first time at a rock festival and I am not quite sure if I like the camping aspect but I'll get to see Radiohead tonight. Also, we got smuggled into the campsite in the back of a van like illegal immigrants to get a good camping spot. This week should make up for not going on a big summer vacation.

2008-05-25T23:40:00.003+02:00

Season ticket holder
I went to Tivoli for the first time. I danced Lindy Hop with a live big band playing and afterwards went on the Golden Tower, the scariest ride of the park. It's a magical fairytale land.

2008-05-18T23:20:00.005+02:00

Demons exorcised
He only wants to be friends. All it took to find out was asking. I should have done this months ago. Next on the to do list: taking out the trash and doing my tax return.

2008-04-22T22:57:00.008+02:00

An attempt at exorcism
Skype, late at night.
Me: The friendly ghost wrote that he "has this funny spring feeling" in his facebook update. I'm not sure if I should interpret anything into that.
Friend from way back and agony aunt du jour: People that write stuff like that want to be interpreted. It means that you should seize the opportunity.
Me: No, it only means that he writes gibberish on his facebook page. Maybe he caught a sunburn in the spring sun that itches.
FFWBAAADJ: Then scratch him!
Me: No, no, no! I'm sick of having to throw myself at men in order for them to notice me. If sheep had free will and decided to throw themselves at men, they wouldn't get kicked out of bed. That's because it would be more trouble for the men to reject their advances than to listen to them baaing. What I want is for men to follow me around like lovesick puppies and to hang upon my every word. They are supposed to be awed by my amazing personality.
FFWBAAADJ: True dat.
Me: And then I would ignore them because anyone, that takes such an unhealthy interest in me, creeps me out.

2008-04-20T21:29:00.003+02:00

He's just not that into me
My life was sailing along calmly when my twisted subconscious decided to spice up the general pleasantness. You would think that liking my job and having interesting hobbies would be sufficient for a fulfilled life but then I found myself pining away for a Dane who shares his name with a certain friendly ghost (or, as my brother helpfully pointed out, the rapist from Kids). He has great hair and dances swing but sends out more mixed signals than a supercomputer can analyze in a month. The mature thing would be asking him directly how he feels about me but my masochistic side will drag this out for much longer. I secretly enjoy unrequited love... it's preferable to open rejection.

2008-02-24T12:45:00.002+01:00

Five candles
I just realized that it's been more than five years since I first started my blog. Back then I mainly wrote to pass time until the sun came up because a viewing of The Ring had left me unable to go to sleep before sunrise (and even then I closed my laptop just in case some raven-haired dead girl was using the screen as a gateway to my dorm room).

I have finally gotten over the silly horror movie (and the near-extinction of VHS has helped, too) but still maintain the blog, even though the post frequency has gone down. The old adage holds true, no news are good news. My new year resolutions consist of "Drink more water" and "Sleep more". I have definitely become a happier person and who would have known 5 years ago that Copenhagen would be the place to be that person? Thanks to all who are still reading. Stay tuned, I might have an accidental spooning story in work.

2008-02-04T22:12:00.000+01:00

Death by shopping
I decided against Japan. It's just bad timing at the moment (especially as I won't have saved up enough holidays until April) and the money can also be spent in Europe as demonstrated by last weekend's trip to Berlin.

During my shopping frenzy, I managed to stab myself in the neck with a turtleneck sweater (or rather the giant price tag inside of it). This confirms again that I can turn anything into a weapon of self-destruction (among others: parked cars, beds and cans of beans). In the end I did not buy it (neck wound + turtleneck = blood infection waiting to happen) but I still took home tons of stuff and the warm afterglow of the company of friends (sorta like sunburn, just more pleasant).

2008-01-24T07:45:00.000+01:00

It's just too much work
After barely two month into my new job I feel the need to plan my next vacation. I normally don't do vacations. (I mean vacations in the sense of picking a location, booking a hotel and getting lost on the way to the sights. Vacations in the sense of lying on the sofa for a week watching all seven seasons of West Wings are fine.) I just cannot be bothered to put all the work into organizing a big trip ("What, I have to do research to find the cheapest flight?! Accommodation? There must be some park benches somewhere").

However, I have always wanted to go to Japan and a friend is going there for 3 weeks in April, so I could just piggyback on her travel plans. No work but all the fun, you'd think it'd be perfect, right? Wrong. Turns out the trip would probably cost what I normally pay for rent in 5 months. While I could afford it, I should probably use so much money for a trip where I really do all the stuff I really want*. Alternatively, I could buy a nicer sofa...and a PS3... and a surround sound system... and use the rest of the money for a beach trip to Spain. Decision needs to be made end of this week. What should I do?

*Like playing Dance Dance Revolution on those giant arcade machines and sitting in an Onsen until dissolve I into silly strings. Or eating wasabi ice cream until I puke.

2008-01-12T12:25:00.000+01:00

Heart doctor (continued)
For those who are still wondering about the Brazilian prostitute story my friend S used to get me over this guy is a total jerk (but cute), here's the whole conversation:

Me: Now tell me, how do I get over my crush the most efficient way?
S: Most efficient way: tell yourself its NOTHING but a crush, focus on his bad bits. Lots of firm talking to yourself that starts with "oh for gods sake" seems to help. When you first met him, he checked out all the other girls instead of you and he was rude about the people he was checking out based on how attractive they were. Sneered at people because they were drunk ... at a beer party
Me: Thanks, it's getting much better now. You're like a 5 min cure… Still, he's so pretty.
S: Pretty is good for sex... and for pictures... and for sunsets... but not for crushes.
Me: I hope you're not suggesting doing sex and pics at the same time?
S: Ha ha ha… at sunset.
Me: You know, what threw me off was really how sweet he was when we were hanging out. Otherwise I wouldn't have the crush in the first place.
S: But has he called, has he texted, has he emailed?
Me: No, of course not.
S: In which case the sweetness was just for him. OK final getting over crush thing (and this is mean)...
Me: Hit me.
S: Did you know you can go to Brazil and "hire a girlfriend" for the journey
Me: ...
S: ... who is basically a prostitute who meets you for the first time at the airport and pretends to be your girlfriend until you leave.
Me: I get the point.
S: Well ... just a recognition that boys can do holiday romance because they also like the feeling... and then they can be totally over it when they go home.

And that's how comparing me to a hooker cured me from my crush.

2008-01-07T01:13:00.000+01:00

Heart doctor
My former flatmate S has cured me of my crush in 10 minutes by telling me a story about Brazilian prostitutes. It's a special gift. I hope she uses it only for good.

2008-01-06T18:22:00.000+01:00

Trying out a healthy diet
We're less than a week into the new year and I am already washing down my vitamin supplements with beer. If this is an indication of how this year is going to be, I might be lucky to survive it with my organs intact. This might just get interesting.

2008-01-04T20:25:00.000+01:00

The first week of the new year
Ladies and gentlemen, I have developed a crush on the random guy I took home at New Year's Eve when we hung out for another day afterwards. Welcome to the top 5 stupid things you can do (coming right after running with scissors and sticking a fork into a socket). He lives in a different country and is way too pretty to be actually nice but it's hard to pick your infatuations.

Starting 2008 as a Facebook stalker is a bad sign. Can someone please slap me sensible or introduce me to some eligible guy living in Denmark? Thank you.

2008-01-01T16:49:00.000+01:00

Happy new year!
The first day of the year and I have already eaten a Big Mac and made out with a random (but very cute) guy. And that is why I have given up on resolutions long time ago.

2007-12-30T10:15:00.000+01:00

New Year's trouble
I was going to make a last minute decision on whether I should join a colleague and his friends at a club for New Year's Eve or just stay at home and have an all night "The Office" session. Unfortunately, I already plowed through all the seasons my brother gave me for Christmas so the decision has pretty much been made for me. Shame on NBC for not producing more episodes!

This means that not only will I venture into a uncomfortable social situation voluntarily but I will also pay good money to be subjected to hundreds of strangers who let a solar calendar dictate their mood for partying. I can only hope to get lucky and be killed by a stray firecracker before the clock strikes midnight.

In unrelated news, my flatmate K is telling her friends that living with me is like living with a ninja. This either means that I make very little noise or that she thinks that I'm an assassin. You decide.

2007-12-13T20:29:00.000+01:00

Escaping from the culture shock
It's been a very efficient move. The boxes are unpacked, I have a resident permit, a Danish social security number, a current AND a savings account and I even signed up for Danish lessons. However, I still haven't figured out how to buy tokens for the washing machine or where exactly the washing machine is situated in this building.

Granted, it's been less than two weeks since my move but I still expected it to feel more like home by now. It doesn't help that my flatmate probably thinks I'm a loner freak who's secretly in love with her 40" TV and kills Mother Earth with her 5-layered non-recycled toilet paper.

That's probably the reason why I spent an inordinate amount of money on a plane ticket o go to a housewarming party in London this weekend. Incidentally, a lot of the friends that will be at the party are people who live in Copenhagen. It wouldn't be life if it made sense.

2007-12-08T11:58:00.000+01:00

I still heart CPH
I'm in Copenhagen now and loving it, except for the bit of trying to fit the furniture that I had in my 45m2 Berlin flat into a 25m2 room with slated walls. Unfortunately, no internet at home yet, so to keep you entertained here's an email I wrote to myself a year ago and that I received a week ago:

The following is an e-mail from the past, composed on Friday, December 1, 2006, and sent via FutureMe.org

Dear FutureMe,

today is a special day: 3 weeks of anticipation built-up will (hopefully) dissolve into a warm fuzzy feeling when I go to pick up M at the airport.

I do not know what to expect from this weekend and my inner bachelorette is already protesting vehemently that she will be denied her well deserved exit from the world: being eating by her 40 cats after passing to the other side.

I am even less sure if I want to trade the emotional and mental stability of the previous 2 years of singledom with the turmoil of grounding your happiness in another person (especially a person who is an island away) but my mom agrees that it's time to quit the cradle snatching and to start dating more mature men (but only those who still have their hair).

So, FutureMe who knows of drama to follow this, I can picture you having a good laugh at the stupid naive girl in love while stroking cat #37 but with it please also think back of the constant grin she had been wearing during the 3 week wait.

Happily yours, A

PS: Talking about quitting, did you manage to stay off the cigarettes? Did you get incredibly fat by doing that? This would explain the cat fetish.

2007-11-05T01:06:00.000+01:00

J Day conversation
"Hey, who didn't finish their beer?"
"Yeah, shame on them. Think of all the poor children in Africa that are sober."

2007-10-28T23:08:00.000+01:00

Remember the bacon
It finally hit me: only five more weeks and my Berlin gig is over. Still plenty of unfinished business, a move to organize, etc. Right now the unknown seems daunting rather an adventure filled with endless possibilities. With so many open issues, I'm getting more and more anxious.

Tomorrow I will pass the biggest hurdle: the flathunt. Thi is the worst part of moving. Picking a place when you don't know the city is always a gamble. The gamble is twice as high when looking at flatshares. Do I want to move into a closet-sized studio or share something more spacious with a roomie? What if the flatmate is disgusted by my fast food eating habits? What if she doesn't play Singstar? What if I end up in little Ziploc bags in her freezer?

I really need to stop overthinking and just remind myself that I do like bacon.

2007-10-02T22:07:00.000+02:00

Attending a ball for my high school's 30th anniversary
I'm back from Memory Lane, a place that I had last seen seven years ago when I got my high school diploma. It was all nostalgia tinged with alienation: the campus has been changed to accommodate new buildings, the bars we used to hang out have closed and people are wrinklier (some of the younger ones have just become uglier without the crow's-feet).

Entertaining bits of the weekend:

I talked to the odd mix of people that were present: teachers, classmates I rarely talked to back then, and littlums that used to be insignificant but have accomplished interesting things such as going to Japan and mastering language or being married for 5 years.

RP confirmed that she's engaged to the lovely Frenchman she's been seeing for the last couple of years. Unfortunately, she gesticulated wildly during the whole weekend, making it impossible for me to determine how much he loves her (i.e. the size of the rock).

Jay closed his last chapter in his Ross and Rachel relationship with his high school sweetheart and has broken off all communication with her. Meanwhile, the nihilists among us (and Friends fans) believe in the concept of Perpetual Recurrence.

I discovered that the particular dress I was wearing that evening didn't mix well with being spun around on the dance floor. Some things never change (see eternal recurrence).

The centrifugal forces applied to my chest weren't the worst thing that happened to me that night. The worst thing was witnessing my high school nemesis wiggle her godawful satin catsuit-clad booty to the most terrible song in German music history and me not being able to film it.

2007-09-25T23:27:00.000+02:00

I had my cell phone stolen there but I still heart CPH
In November 2006 I furnished a flat for the very first time in my life and even hung up some pictures. After all, nesting is expected once you arrive at your final destination. And what a superb destination it is: Bohemian Berlin with its stiletto-eating pavements and the 1€ doner kebabs, the no dress code clubs and all night public transportation. Inhabited by wonderful people like BB who makes you sandwiches and AC who gets you drunk on Ricard in dodgy areas of the city.

However I was overly optimistic when I put nails into my living room wall to settle for good. One of my dumber alter egos decided that it's all going too well and therefore has accepted a job in Copenhagen. She thinks it might be fun to eat Danish hot dogs and learn a language that evolved from a throat disease in the third most expensive city in the world.

But I shouldn't despair, there are some things to look forward to:

Leaving the office at 5 p.m.

A surplus of attractive Scandinavian lads at my disposal

Christmas beer

Besides, a country that puts these comic strips in its newspaper must rock harder that a diamond.

2007-09-20T00:49:00.000+02:00

Stealing my thunder
Next week I'll see my best friend RP again for a high school reunion. Apparently she's got some big news to share. So do I. Hers probably involve a ring. Mine also start with an R but then merely continue with esignation.

2007-08-29T01:07:00.000+02:00

A semi-successful holiday
I have just returned from a vacation which was more of a location hopping that anything else. Route was: my parents' place - Berlin - Copenhagen - Berlin - Cambridge - London and now finally back in Berlin. All in less than 10 days. Not the most glorious of the ideas conceived by mankind.

It was great seeing all my friends again but it can't have been much fun for them because I apparently have turned autistic since last seeing them and hence have lost any capacity to be pleasant or entertaining even if I go blue in the face with the effort. I mainly sat around with glazed eyes listening to other people's conversations.

On the plus side, I managed to meet up with my ex and realized that I am getting over him. My natural gift of seeing flaws in everyone has magically returned. It also helps that he's currently sporting a Fauxhawk. With bleached hair in the middle.

2007-08-23T17:13:00.000+02:00

The fortune teller encounter
I was reading a book on a bench when a bearded man with a turban started talking to me about my forehead. Apparently, the present can be read from the piece of skin above my eyebrows. Moving to the palm, Turban Man continued by guessing some other funny tidbits of my life and I was slightly suprised by how far a little bit of empathy can take you. He was amusing enough to give him some money which he claimed was for an orphanage. In return I got a talisman that looks like two bits of hardened play-doh stuck together and the following pearls of wisdom:

Oct-Dec '07 will be lucky for me.

I will meet my soul mate during that time period, even though I am not looking for a man right now.

In 2009 I will start my own company.

Beware of becoming a warrantor.

I shouldn't discuss my plans for the future with too many people.

My mother is a more important part of my life than I currently think.

God is within yourself.

I think too much.

I should drink more milk and water.

I'll revisit this in 2009. Until then, I'll just be offended that he guessed me more than 5 years older than I am. Must have been the dehydrated skin.

2007-07-24T22:03:00.000+02:00

Rock *
As of lately, my life has been somewhat lackluster so I need help to make it rock again. Fortunately, for geeks like me there's a how-to wiki.

2007-07-19T08:23:00.000+02:00

Two walls in Berlin

2007-07-12T23:04:00.000+02:00

Rock bottom
Welcome to the new and improved pathetic me: Lying in bed before 10pm and watching Ally McBeal. Like my friend TF just told me on the phone, I'm a tub of Ben & Jerry's away from depression. Of course, he's frolicking in Denmark on his holidays while I am slaving away in the office from hell. He redeemed himself, however, when he added that he got me a present. I hope it's a tall, blond Dane.

2007-06-29T22:35:00.000+02:00

Berlin Pride
If it hadn't been for the friends visiting me I would have missed Christopher Street Day. I was a little reluctant to go into town as there were occasional monsoon showers that swept everything off the streets but if you have visitors, you are obliged to show them what they are missing by not living in Berlin. Especially when even the police rainbowed up.

Who needs the Love Parade in Berlin? It's CSD where the real love is.

2007-06-07T18:21:00.000+02:00

Another thing can be crossed off the list
The strip club was a sad affair where the entrance fee bought you a Monopoly dollar which you were invited to slip into the few garments the girls were wearing (they get 50 cents for each bill, so by making a fool of yourself you apparently support the hard-working ladies of the night). Highlight of the evening was when I slipped the play money into a stripper's thong to stop her from flaunting her ass in my face. It was less hairy than the asses that I normally touch, so that was nice. And plus, it was made so much more special by the company of a bunch of co-workers. A real Kodak moment.

All this was made possible by someone's brilliant idea to give one of our friends a lap dance for his birthday. Next time I'm sticking to Starbucks gift certificates.

2007-05-30T00:12:00.000+02:00

Stasis is the very essence of the crush
It has come to that: I am turning bits of an article about Hugh Laurie's hotness into a blog title. My excuse is that nothing expresses the current theme of my life better. A lot has happened last month but nothing has really changed: after a second date and a rhyming sms from speed dating guy, I told him we shouldn't see each other again. I bought another pair of boring black shoes. I didn't get over my ex. Same old, same old.

When I compared the break-up with cold showers I didn't know that I would get a taste of the real thing a couple of weeks later. It doesn't kill me to get a daily wake-up kiss from Frosty the snowman but it sure doesn't make me stop dreaming about steaming hot tubs. Nonetheless, all good things must have an end in a world where "ultra-lasting" means "up to 5 days" (at least when referring to nail polish) and, if nothing more, it gives me something to talk to the felines when I've turned into crazy cat lady.

2007-05-08T22:42:00.000+02:00

Futile attempts to keep the cheese out of Easter
The plan was to see my old flatmate S's new flat and get drunk off my head during her traditional Easter pub crawl but in the end it's always the people that are the main attraction. Even more amazing than S's interior design taste is her ability to show how much she cares for you. So the London sun wasn't the only thing to enjoy during Easter, I could also bask in the warm glow of friendship (which incidentally doesn't give you icky tan lines, so friendship totally kicks sunshine in every aspect). That, and I sneaked off to see my ex when nobody was looking. Good weekend.

2007-04-23T19:43:00.000+02:00

Back from the fleshpots of humiliation
So speed dating... even more punishment than dream f*cking a fat middle-aged mobster and by far more surreal. Also, the women were stuck at their tables without waiters so I lacked the appropriate social lubricant after my complementary glass of Prosecco. Most of the conversations were about as much fun as knitting a sweater out of tapeworms while the strain of trying to act normal in an artificial setting turned me an unbecoming shade of red. I was glad when it was my friend B's turn at my table to start the best conversation of the evening.

Me:[fake introducing myself] Hi, I'm Annie. How are you?
B: I'm B.
Me: Hi, B. Oh god, where did you get the alcohol?! Gimme that!
B: I got an Asian fetish.
Me: And I have an Aryan fetish.
B: Right. See, I'm not so much into breasts. So you'll just be fine.
Me: Do you have any hereditary diseases in your family? Heart attacks? Mental illnesses? Diabetes?
B: Nope.
Me: Cancer? Drug addicts?
B: No.
Me: Good, good. Would you rather have a cat or a dog?
B: If I had to, a cat, but I hate animals.
Me: Oh, me too, except on a plate.
B:[out of character] Oh, that reminds me, my vegan friend invited you to her birthday party next weekend. But you really shouldn't come and it's going to be boring as hell.
Me: That's nice and I would love to come but I'm in Amsterdam that weekend.
B: Phew, I really didn't want you to come anyway.
Me:[back in character] I want your babies!

Among my eleven speed dates:,

a "Dirty Dancing" aficionado,

a painfully earnest (and potentially color blind) boy,

a couple of guys that in my memory have morphed into a single specter of yawn,

a "funny but ugly" guy,

an IT guy that made a gagging sound when I told him what I did for a living

the classic frat douchebag, and

a hobbit.

To be fair I admit that I didn't come across as Heidi Klum with Mother Theresa's personality either. I had a little out-of-body experience and saw myself hovering over this stuck up girl that talked too fast and actually listed every single country she has lived in so far.

In the end, I ticked one box on the rating sheet, so stay tuned for next episode when we get to know if the people B and I chose also like us. It'll be all about "Why didn't he want to meet me as well?! It must be because I'm FAT!!"

2007-04-15T19:29:00.000+02:00

Weird dream: the inappropriate dream
Today I dreamt that I had sex with Tony Soprano which was upsetting on so many levels that I can't even begin to describe it - especially since I have never seen a single episode of The Sopranos in my life. I sure hope that it isn't some kind of foreshadowing of my foray into speed dating next Sunday evening.

2007-04-14T23:30:00.000+02:00

A Berlin moment sneaking up on me on my way to dinner

2007-03-31T22:21:00.000+02:00

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.

* A 1,90m tall friend.

2007-03-25T20:43:00.000+02:00

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.

2007-03-23T00:31:00.000+01:00

"When I was young, we didn't have any of that YouTube"
When Avril starts singing in Mandarin, you know the world is coming to an end (or maybe it's just me getting old).

2007-03-18T19:39:00.000+01:00

The limits of retail therapy
I recently bought a new book from the much revered Mighty Girl and I still don't manage to post more regularly: I'm too exhausted from my four day weekend.

2007-03-08T00:52:00.000+01:00

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.

2007-03-04T23:12:00.000+01:00

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.

2007-02-14T22:06:00.000+01:00

The telecommunication gods conspiracy
I woke up remembering a dream in which the Boy slept with one of my friends here. Then the only chocolate I got today was a piece from the box that got sent to the trainee in our department. The Boy claims that he texted me virtual roses but I didn't get them. Nor did his e-card make it to my inbox later tonight. In other words, the gods of telecommunication wanted me to have a romance-free, loveless Wednesday. For some, it might be Valentine's Day, for me the best thing about today is that it's only two more days until the weekend. And people ask me why I am not more of a holiday person...

2007-01-23T00:35:00.000+01:00

When "I have no idea how it got there" is not just a lame excuse
I was slightly surprised when I caught the Boy looking at muscular guys doing each other on my laptop. I was even more surprised when it turned out that he had found it on my hard disk by accident. Apparently, I had had the movie for almost a year hiding among my other video clips, unnoticed. It was a complete mystery to me how it had gotten there but I was determined to solve it but it took me some trial and error, lots of giggling and an hour of my life before the metaphorical light bulb got any juice.
So many lessons learnt that evening:
Lesson #1: Men in gay p0rn look much better than in straight p0rn
Lesson #2: They would look even better without any ridiculous angel and devil costumes
Lesson #3: It's not a good idea to call your brother to ask him whether he gave you gay p0rn
Lesson #4: When copying files from friends, stick to the titles that sound familiar.

2007-01-20T23:49:00.000+01:00

It must be love
I found out that what I generally refer to as "spoon massage" actually has a proper name. My friends know it as "a torture method applied to you when a flu has left you defenseless against the evil powers in the world (aka me)" but now that I can give them the proper Chinese term, people might be more willing to submit themselves to it. In the end, I just want to make people take their shirts of and hurt them but nobody but themselves is to blame if they mistake Asian looks with knowledge of Eastern medicine.
I offered one to my current love when he came down with the flu before coming to stay to Berlin for the weekend. However, he has very delicate skin so I spared him and brought him some orange juice instead. It takes a special guy that makes me wanna coddle him instead of putting red streaks all across his back.

2007-01-14T00:52:00.000+01:00

Drink your troubles away
I tried to annihilate the memories of this awful, awful week on Friday evening. It worked a little too well and I had to face the consequences on Saturday when I stayed in bed catching up on my TV shows trying to ignore my hangover. Lately I haven't been going out much and enjoyed it very much. Despite what my mom or Myer-Briggs say about my gregarious nature, deep down I am a true introvert. With internet providing endless hours of entertainment and pizza delivery services, I won't leave the house any time soon this weekend.

On a brighter note, I finally got rid of my Christmas tree, or rather Remy did as a "thank you" for letting him crash at my place. I had my doubts about whether throwing the tree out of my window (5th floor) was a good idea but at 1 am our thinking was quite impaired. This was confirmed by my downstairs neighbor who didn't appreciate us celebrating the successful tree throwing with some Singstar. "Total Eclipse of Your Heart" is not for everyone on a Monday night... ahem, Tuesday morning.

2007-01-04T21:20:00.000+01:00

Christmas present
While I have always been Happy*, apparently that is not enough, someone thinks I need to upgrade my emotions.

*Happy for Men to be precise, go figure the pun.

2007-01-01T22:49:00.000+01:00

New Year's Eve minus the party
In accord with my dislike of society-mandated celebrations, I boycotted New Year's Eve by staying at home and watching Dexter while reading my chat history of my current knight in shining armor. My brother calls this pathetic but I call this the introvert's alternative to firecrackers and stale sparkling wine. Also, it gave me plenty of time to think about how to dispose of the carcass of last year's christmas tree: out of my window it goes.

2006-12-24T19:58:00.000+01:00

My first Christmas tree
My fingers are all itchy from carrying home a Christmas tree which defended itself with every prickly needle. Alas, resistance was futile and it will not escape its fate as the grotesque centerpiece of my holiday themed living room (pictures will follow). Christmas music is slowly dissolving my brain. I had been given the choice of seasonal music selection but apparently there is no X-mas trip hop.

My birthday earlier this week had been more pleasant than expected with my co-workers giving me a voucher for IKEA* and my friends presenting me with a new Singstar game** at an evening which ended with lots of Gluewein and excellent sushi at Sasaya. Only downside is that now everyone knows that I am the youngest person working at Company X in Berlin that is not an intern. So much for my efforts of creating an aura of competence by wearing glasses and sensible clothing, undone in a day!

Happy holidays and have a very merry and relaxed Christkwanzukkah!

* Apparently, my colleagues have me written down in their books as a masochist.
** My friends as well.

2006-12-10T20:03:00.000+01:00

I have been smiling so much that I will need Botox to prevent permanent damage to my face
It's been a couple of extremely good weeks. I...

organized a reunion weekend for some people I haven't seen in a long time,

bought a SingStar,

went to to the gayest bar in Berlin (three words: furry pink ceiling),

was asked by the folks from FutureMe if they could use my email in their upcoming book,

had a Battlestar Galactica marathon, and

spent some really amazing times getting to know a great guy who threatened to buy a tree to put his presents under when he spends Christmas with me. 'Tis the season to be jolly. Lalalalala, lalalala.

2006-11-12T23:22:00.000+01:00

Furniture woes
I was supposed to celebrate a friend's 30th birthday in Brussels this weekend but it would either have meant overpriced flights or neverending coach trips (11 hours plus), so I decided I don't love him that much. I stayed in Berlin instead, caught up on sleep and did some errands. And by doing errands, I mean nothing less than venturing to IKEA for the second time this week (and the 6th time since the beginning of my furnishing saga). What is worst is that it won't be the last trip into the belly of the beast. On the day I returned from IKEA to finally complete my collection of furniture with this, my bed broke (purchased 2 weeks earlier). Timing is great as usual: Next week I got 3 guests coming to stay at my place. Some malignant Nordic god is hovering nearby and cackling in an unpleasant, high-pitched voice while I plan another trip to the blue and yellow. There's nothing left but to ignore their Aryan good looks and to starte hating the Swedes. The Danish are much cuter anyway.

2006-11-05T21:07:00.000+01:00

My first J-day
I'm back from my hiatus with a home internet connection restored, reeking of cigarettes and beer and leaving a trail of plastic snow where ever I tread. It all started with J-day, the day the first Christmas beer of the year is served by Santa Claus and his elves in restaurants all over Copenhagen. The particular restaurant where I happened to find myself at the time had been decorated as if Santa Claus himself had exploded all over the walls. Hours of drunkenness and Christmas carols later, my cell phone was gone but that was a lesser loss than my buddy Si's who had to endure "bloody sausage" jokes after an interlude with a Danish lady with overly enthusiastic hands in the park.

When the plastic snow in the bar had miraculously turned into slush, we were kicked out and I spent the night on the floor at a friend's place together with eight other people. The proximity to the wooden floor not only left me with bruises but also apparently triggered some really vivid IKEA dreams that lasted long after I returned from the trip. While I was tossing and turning, Remy (who had come to Copenhagen on Saturday morning especially to meet me) was wandering aimlessly through the streets without a means of contacting me now that my mobile was gone. It's now the second time I have left him hanging and I'm afraid that he will think it's a pattern forming.

More Christmas beer, a broken bar lamp, and shots, that tasted like Lysterine and licorice, were the return path to Drunksville. While I was only journeying through though, some of my friends decided to settle down there and buy houses. Less metaphorically: two people passed out in the hallway and Si spent more than half an hour to return from a club that was 2 minutes way, banging on the neighbor's door at 6 in the morning to let him in (because name signs are not that obvious). 3 out of 4 Drunksvillers agree: Si's cut out for mayor.

2006-10-17T19:37:00.000+02:00

Swedish rant
Although I was down under, I did not literally drop off the face of the earth, but I wish I could say that because it would make people more sympathetic about the lack of fresh words around here than my real explanation for it: laziness. Coupled with the forgetfulness that comes with age, the funny and interesting moments of my life vaporize quickly before my finger touches the keyboard. Sadly, what doesn't vaporize that easily are the pounds I've added while eating all the TimTams I brought back from Australia. Hopefully, assembling my IKEA furniture will burn off some calories but that won't be any time soon thanks to the wonders of IKEA online shopping which will take more than 4 weeks to deliver after the order was placed.* I read some study where being annoyed enhances your metabolism as well. I'll try that exercise regimen until my stuff arrives.

* That means, the first half of my order. Apparently, unnecessary things such as sofas and wardrobe doors are not a thing that they have in stock and therefore it might take another 6 months or so.

2006-10-01T11:59:00.000+02:00

"Meet the new Mr and Mrs..."
My cousin's wedding was beautiful containing the anticipated mix of cute little flower girls, embarassing speeches and uncles grooving on the dance floor to 50cent. For me, the whole process would be too much trouble to go through for a ring and a dress that makes you trip over for the whole day. In my opinion, there are only two arguments in marriage's favor:

I could get rid of my unpronouncable last name

I can order hard candy with my name on it as a giveaway for the guests

I don't seem to have any luck in picking men with good last names*, so a sugar high is probably all that I can look forward to.

* my last boy-friend's last name was pronounced very much like "semen" and my current love interest's name sounds like a synonym for abdominal pain.

2006-09-29T23:21:00.000+02:00

Everybody get on the floor
The holiday is going along nicely even though I am developing dimensions of something that needs to be rolled back into the sea again. This seems also to be the explanation why I didn't feel like going to the beach with my cousin. Being around family for an extended period of time feels strange given that I haven't lived with my parents for almost a decade and I miss having my own four walls so now I phantasize about new apartment in Berlin the whole time. I've been thinking about painting the walls of my Berlin apartment grass green but my stream of thoughts is interrupted by my cousins discovering a box containing a drum, a triangle and a tambourine and now the Asian version of the von Trapps is taking a trip through the pop music wonderland of the last 50 years. This is something I can easily postpone my Martha Stewart phantasies. If it weren't for the corny Karaoke interludes, family would be a much harder concept to bear.

2006-09-23T07:34:00.000+02:00

Luxury problems
Recovery from the jetlag and the post-flight flu take longer than foreseen but there is no better cure than retail therapy. My credit card has caught even more of a tan than I have. Unfortunately, Australia's latest summer collection won't do me any good when I return to winter wonderland Germany. So I have to make enough use of frilly skirts and short dresses while the weather's still warm enough and while I'm still skinny enough to fit into them because I get stuffed with the best food in the world. Life is so cruel.

2006-09-19T21:12:00.000+02:00

Raffle
My cousin has a cocktail named after her, how cool is that?! First person to guess her name guess wins a packet of Tim Tams.

2006-09-18T09:28:00.000+02:00

Today it's all about the boobs
My body is having trouble accepting that it is 5:29 pm and not 9:29 am but at any rate, it is having troubles accepting anything after 26 hours of air travel. I have finally arrived in Sydney, OZ.

Apart from the interminable hours of being trapped in the window seat of a Boeing 747 with a bursting bladder, my time was spent efficiently when I decided what furniture to buy for my new apartment* got a souvenir from Bangkok** and bought my outfit for my cousin's wedding*** that I will attend in 2 weeks. And now I am off to Hooters where they apparently serve excellent hot wings. This vacation does not start restfully.

* Thank you, IKEA catalogue!
** A massage book which initiated me into the massaging technique of buttock pressing
*** A pleated black cocktail dress which make my boobs look bigger. Strappy kitten heels to go with****.
**** (the dress, not the boobs).

2006-09-06T17:36:00.000+02:00

On my mind
The apartment hunt is over. Tomorrow I will sign the contract and hand over ridiculous amounts of cash to a real estate agent for opening the door to the apartment and saying helpful things such as "It's a really nice place." I am quite ecstatic about the apartment nonetheless because it means that I can:
a) stop wasting my weekends looking at derelict buildings in remote areas;
b) sleep soundly at night because I won't have to sleep under a bridge; and
c) finally order broadband.

I have borrowed the new IKEA catalogue from a colleague and it feels like I am leafing through furniture p*rn: instead of naked bodies, I am rearranging sofas and bookshelves in my mind, trying out more positions for them in my mind than there are in the Kama Sutra. Tonight I will take it a step further and cut out little paper squares to shift around on the ground plan. Talk about depravity!

2006-08-25T18:56:00.000+02:00

And the search continues
I found a really great apartment in my favourite area of Berlin with all the works: freshly renovated, new kitchen with a dish washer, oak parquet and floor heating. But it is on the ground floor where I am not safe from the looks of curious by-walkers and the odd burglar. I was ready to croak "As long as I have internet at home again, I'm happy!" while I am strangled and robbed in my sleep because I forgot to hermetically seal off my apartment before bedtime. However, everyone raising their eyebrows and picturing me in a bloodbath dampened my enthusiasm for it significantly and when on Monday my lunch dates shouted "Too expensive! Too dark! Too dangerous!" in stereo, I finally gave up. Deep in my heart I know that they are right and that I made the right decision... but I still miss the internet. A lot.

2006-08-25T18:24:00.000+02:00

London kills me
Saturday night killed me and I woke up in hell. In hell, you do not take off your jacket before you pass out on the sofa so that zippers leave you with an inverted necklace the following morning and then you get up early to watch your friend cry over breakfast. Add the constant fatigue and Gatwick on security level "serious" and you have the full picture. But if Hell (with a capital H) accomodates all my friends (and somewhere I get the strong feeling that it will), I'll make sure to come back soon.

2006-08-19T10:47:00.000+02:00

The fix
Saturday morning in London, and what do I do? Dim Sum in Chinatown, shopping on Regent Street? No, I steal my former flatmate S's laptop to surf the internet only to realize how bad the withdrawal of private internet access has been depriving me of my usual information flow. Today, I learnt that a university friend has married last weekend, Maggie is pregnant and TS is single again. Congrats to all of them.

2006-08-08T19:43:00.000+02:00

Relapse
So I finally make it to an internet cafe and what happens when I try to run ICQ or MSN messenger? It won't let me because I do not have the proper admin rights to either install the programs themselves or Java for the web-based version. Fuckity fuck. How can they call this internet if I can't lead half-assed IM conversations while I scan my usual blogs until my ADD kicks in and I move on to the next website? I am really close to going back to the office to get my laptop in order to get me some of this free wireless zooming around. easyInternetcafé my ass.

2006-08-07T18:46:00.000+02:00

Hi, my name is...
...Annie and it’s been six weeks since I had internet access at home. It has been tough and I have often felt the urge to stop by an internet café for a quick fix but I could fight the urge by engaging in displacement activities such as freezing my ass off at a reading on a houseboat, extended walks through Berlin, hanging out in cafes and continuing my quest for the best Vietnamese restaurant in Berlin (Oh, Monsieur Vuong, I will never forget my first…).
It has been unsettling to be forced to give a single discussion partner your undivided attention instead of sending IMs to s7 different people in 5 min intervals while surfing the web but gallons of alcohol have eased the transition. Furthermore, friends, who would have never dreamt about visiting me in London, are drawn to Berlin like moths to an industrial-strength bug zapper. Berlin is oozing with so much coolness that it even permeates an unfortunate geekgirl like me.

2006-07-25T12:26:00.000+02:00

Everything in excess
Further additions to the fridge over the weekend: beer, diet coke and a giant sized bag of ice cubes. The chili sauce is happy to have new play mates. The cornichons are sulking over their lost best bud status. The wine is too grown up to talk to anyone.

It has been a very busy weekend with a friend visiting, buying a shower curtains, playing ping pong, eating non-stop and hanging out in cafes, bars and clubs. Food consisted of typical Berlin staples: brunch and doner kebab. Health levels remain on a stable low. Same for sleep levels. Now I just have to cut down on working hours to have a fun life but rich husbands are rare in Berlin so status quo will have to do.

2006-07-20T18:51:00.000+02:00

Leading a better life
I have adopted a new mission (besides the old one of not getting fired for blatant incompetence): trying all Vietnamese restaurants in Berlin. Monsieur Vuong will be the first one. I hope he will be gentle.

This might be the first step to eating properly again after my stress-based starvation diet but I doubt it: The contents of my fridge still consist of two bottles of wine, a jar of cornichons and a chili sauce. Despite all the Vietnamese food in the world my inner student will never die.

2006-07-17T09:46:00.000+02:00

Berlin, Berlin
I already had my painful initiation to Berlin: loveparade, Tacheles, a magazine party, a major hangover, making a boy cry, ping pong in the park and lots of walking. I can barely drag my poor, beaten body to work. It's going to be a great life.

2006-07-08T13:56:00.000+02:00

It's all about the rabbits
Two weeks and I still have no idea how to do my new job. I try to compensate by working long hours. While I am keeping myself under the delusion that everything will be better once I am in Berlin but, first, I will have to survive my move that I unfortunately planned for the day of the Loveparade. I can picture myself fending off half naked Techno clubbers with my giant suitcase already. In the end, it's only watching the baby bunnies hopping around the office grounds when I leave the office that keeps me from developing an ulcer.

2006-07-03T21:50:00.000+02:00

Brazil-France 0:1
So how does it work out when I go to Brussels for a weekend to take a break from the football craze? The friend I visit dragged me to Lille to watch the French play on a big screen with all the flag waving, painted faces and ecstatic fans that can fit onto the market place in Lille. In retribution, I took him shopping on the day after. He got the lesser end of the deal because, secretly, I enjoyed watching the game a lot. And I really deserve some enjoyment after the first horrendous week of work with many more to follow. Next time I need to pick a better season to change jobs, summer is wasted on the confused and tired.

2006-06-28T19:50:00.000+02:00

It's a new dawn... after a binge drinking toga party night
England did not kill me but it certainly robbed me of one or the other useful brain cell but this is all over now and alcohol has become a distant memory as I sit in a hotel room in some remote suburb of Cologne. As a creature of habit, I am disoriented when my routines are replaces by a new office, new desk, new colleagues, new systems and new ways of doing things. And worse, it will take me longer to get used to my new life this time because Cologne is only be a short stop before my final destination. I will move to Berlin in July with another new office, another new desk, and other new colleagues. And while I can barely stand up straight due to the weight of my situation's finality, I also feel very grown up to be finally under a permanent contract.

2006-06-18T21:24:00.000+02:00

England wants me dead.
First, it was random cars approaching at supersonic speed while I was looking the other direction as I was told in kindergarten. Then, England sent out its army of deadly pollen choosing a tree in ront of my window as their military basis. While their attacks provided me with opportunities to gauge out my itchy eyes during my sleepless, snot clogged nights, it did not entirely finish me off. With only a couple of days left on this island, I was not letting it get to me.
... or so I thought: My first spa day ever turned out to be much less relaxing than I expected. The massage was nice but, then, my face got eaten by chemicals and iced pink toe nails happened. The horror! Strangely enough, I survived this disfiguring experience but this will all change on Friday: I will certainly die of shame when nobody shows up to my farewell party because they have more interesting things to do. In the end, it's not Enland that's gonna kill me, it'll be the World Cup.

2006-06-14T22:24:00.000+02:00

Germany-Poland: 1-0
While most Germans know at what exact time each of the the Germans footballers takes a leak,I did not have the slightest idea that they on to play a match today. And I would not have switched on the TV if my brother hadn't told me. I would have switched the TV off pretty soon if I hadn't caught glimpse of the Polish goalie. And thanks to the German strikers I got to see much more of him. Nice.

2006-06-10T02:38:00.000+02:00

Germany-Costa Rica 4-2
So when people ask "How did you chip your front tooth?", the answer should be "When I fell off the bike when I was six." or "In this fight with this really buff guy.". What you don't expect is "I was playing foosball". But this is exactly what happened to me tonight. After this pathetic start the evening could only get better. And it did.

I called the police for the first time in my life. I called when a fight broke out in front of the pub with people throwing pint glasses at each other but when the police actually arrived, only a couple of shards were left from it.

Also, S agreed to have a farewell party at our flat. Agreeing to another house party was nothing I expected from her any time soon after receiving the "WANKERS"-letter for our last party (see prior entry). We couldn't agree on whether the theme should be "pimps and hos" or "superheros", so I think we are going to have a "Superheros, pimps and hos" party. This will definitely make for good photos and it will be fun to guess if the people are trying to be Wonder Woman or a stripper dressed like Wonder Woman.

2006-05-29T15:58:00.000+02:00

As long as I get to keep my maniacal laughter...
I spent my entire Sunday surfing Wikipedia for my favorite superheroes which led me to top 100 things to do when you're a supervillain. If this is all what it takes, I should really consider a career change. World domination is much better than the package I got offered for Berlin.

2006-05-24T22:37:00.000+02:00

London holds nothing against it
So, last week was crammed with action and excitement. I got almost thrown out of a club by a huge bouncer (but only by mistake), got a new haircut, spent a substantial amount of my savings on clothes, danced until the sun came up, slept with someone I shouldn't have, almost keeled over due to exhaustion on my way to a cafe and got a very unflattering picture of my nostrils taken while I was sleeping on a bus. And people think that Brussels is boring.

2006-05-08T21:58:00.000+02:00

So much worse than any public swimming pool
So David Blaine is trying to pull this Waterworld stunt and says:
"My system is completely empty and I did that so there's no waste. That way in the sphere I don't have to use the bathroom."
Yeah, right! If fish can pee, so can he.

2006-05-05T04:18:00.000+02:00

Bye bye Blondie
My celebrity crush history since I was 12 years: After pining over the A-Team's "Face", I graduated to kissing my poster of Jonathan Brandis of Seaquest DSV fame. Recently, I have become somewhat infatuated with David Anders while catching up on the last couple of Alias seasons. So what does it tell you besides that I watch too much TV? When it comes to men, I like them on the Nordic side.

In real life, however, the man I kissed at my party looked more like Curious George. Does that mean that I'm throwing off the shackles of superficiality and looking past the dark (chest) hair to see the Latin beauty of his soul? Given that he most likely doesn't have a soul at all, it's just wrong that I find him sexy at all. I need to stay away from men until I got my preferences sorted out.

2006-05-04T23:49:00.000+02:00

Mobile mystery
Odd sms from an unknown number:
You're here this we?, so We need you!, come to my party with my camel and friends at my flat this saturday, from 6.30 / 7 pm. feel free to bring someone or something. [Address] Station notting hill. Take care

Even after calling the number I still have no idea who the guy was I was talking to except for that we met at a bar in Oxford Circus in October 2005 and that he's a friend of a co-worker. So what should I do this Saturday? And what was that about the camel? London is positively weird.

2006-05-03T22:53:00.001+02:00

Un-birthday and other un-celebrations
Our cleaner has reinstated normalcy in our party-ridden apartment and the remains from Saturday's "Mad Hatter" party are now limited blue and white streamers dangling from the ceiling and a faint pub smell lingering in the living room.
The party theme was born as a justification to finally wear crossbreed between a puff pastry and a bird that I had purchased half a year ago but soon we realized the additional advantage of being able to distinguish this Saturday's pictures from all prior drunken debaucheries. Initially, the party was held to celebrate nothing in particular but my timing in accepting the Berlin job offer conveniently steered all attention to me*.
In the end everybody snogged someone they didn't intend to end up with, people locked themselves in our two bathrooms and all looked great in their hats. And most importantly: I will never have to give a party again because I cannot top this weekend.

*at least, until that skinny, blond South-African girl started shaking her booty.

2006-05-02T21:25:00.000+02:00

How to tell a great party
Letter from a neighbor:
I don't think I have ever had neighbours as selfish & as inconsiderate as you showed yourselves to be last night. Despite requests to keep the noise down, you did not, nor did you answer the door when I knocked, choosing instead to hide inside. Be advised that myself & at least one other resident of the building has reported you to the council, & you are now on their watch list. I will also be reporting the complex management.

Please have a little respect & consideration for others in future.

Letter from another neighbor:
WANKERS

Details of the party coming soon.

2006-04-23T21:19:00.000+02:00

Ch...ch...ch...choices
Apparently, I go on and on about how I cannot make up my mind on the job situation like a broken record until their Pawlow reaction to my opening my mouth is glazed over eyes. In my nightmares HR laughs and tell me that they would have offered me a higher salary if I had only asked for more. So I tried today. The luxury of having three job offers is that if you piss off one HR lady, there are two other ones that are willing to take me. Let's see how this game plays. I predict an end to glazed eyes of my conversation partners by end of this week.

2006-04-17T20:31:00.000+02:00

Lucky dip
I don't know exactly how it happened but I got three internal job offers with Company X. In the next couple of days I need to take a decision on where I want to work permanently: London, Brussels, or Berlin. Which to pick? I have been brooding over this for a while but cannot come to no conclusion. The problem is that I would be delirious about each of the jobs if it was the only one offered to me. However, as they come as a set of three none of them seem to be the correct choice as they all tick different boxes of my wish list of "the perfect job":

London

I don't have to move

I love my flatmate S

Attractive salary

Brussels

Fun team and manager

Lots of friends working for Company X

Yummy food and beer

Berlin

Great city

Good work-life balance

Friends from high school

My mother's advice is to write the cities on pieces of paper and try my luck but, gentle reader, what is your take on this?

2006-04-14T23:03:00.000+02:00

Loo sweet loo
After coming back from Germany, the first question that I have for my flatmate shouldn't be "Where are the two packs of toilet paper we bought a couple of weeks ago?". Especially when she's not home.

2006-04-06T21:26:00.000+02:00

Staying home and watcing TV for the rest of my life
Back in London I finally removed my contact lenses that I had slept in for three weeks and am finally in posession of two less than bright red eyes again. Vision restored but still not seeing clearly (especially not career wise). Tired as a dog and not motivated to do anthing more challenging than dipping a nacho chip into guacamole.
Berlin has charmed me like a date offering me a spiked drink: I liked Berlin but then it got me dizzy and I woke up in a bed without remembering how I got in there. It didn't help that room service regularly tried to clean my room while I was still convincing my body to drag itself into the shower. Other bizarre events included meeting an old high school crush who let his hair grow long and dancing with a guy nicknamed like the woman parts in the Kama Sutra.

2006-04-01T19:09:00.000+02:00

Please do the crossin' for me!
After spending a most relaxing weekend in Berlin with lots of talking, walking, cooking and eating, I'm sitting in the office in Berlin. It's actually my day off but I have a good reason for not enjoying my free day in bed with the TV: I had a job interview for an permanent position in the German office via video conference. For the whole weekend I have agonized over the interview and had nightmares about the interviewers asking about me net present value or cash flows but in the end it was just three Germans talking bad English (one of them me). In two weeks I will know if they will invite me for a face-to-face meeting. I would keep my fingers crossed but then it would be so very difficult to hold all of the wine and beer glasses that I intent to empty tonight in celebration of having escaped a life in a box under a drafty bridge.

2006-03-26T14:50:00.000+02:00

The Sweden experience
Stockholm looks like a giant construction site with piles of dirt and grey ice in the streets but the brilliant sunshine made up for it. It's my first trip to Sweden and all that I have hoped for: beautiful blond men everywhere. Aside from ogling them, I passed time by getting drunk with my friends and spending tons of money because I couldn't be bothered to convert Swedish crowns to euros. However, it is money well spent because it was good to blow off some steam and to realize that human interaction does not always have to lead to death wishes (whether I wish myself or the other person dead varies). It did lead to lots of bruises because TF and I thought violence is a good way of expressing our appreciation for each other and he was no gentleman when he tried to get out of my judo death headlock. Good times.

2006-03-21T21:47:00.000+01:00

Chemistry: the thing that only happens with the wrong kind of guy
The closest to some action I have gotten lately was at the Amsterdam airport on my way back home. The body search I went through was unusually ...thorough. It's the first time someone actually snapped my bra or put her hands into my pants during a body search. And that procedure was one of my better moments of this week. It was definitely more pleasant than the conversation that I had with my current fling yesterday:
He: Hey, what's up? Here! [holds up something black]
Me: What is that?
He: The sweater you left in my room.
Me: That's not mine!
He: What? But you were the last girl that was... well, uh...
Me: Stop, I get it! But it still isn't mine. Now go away!

I'm planning on having dinner with him next week. Can anyone say: masochist streak?

2006-03-20T10:27:00.000+01:00

Too many languages, not enough time
Sitting in a cozy cafe in Amsterdam, I have never appreciated so much that, one day, our ancestors decided to get out of their caves and invented all those wonderful things that ultimately led to wireless internet.

I've had a lovely weekend in Holland toasting to TF's new job with champagne, roasting marshmellows in Iris's fireplace at her housewarming party and reminiscing with Remy about his see-through linen pants. This was my second "real" visit to Holland but I'm sure there will be many happy returns. For my next visit, I need to learn Dutch though. The only (utterly useless) Dutch phrase I know is "This is my husband" and on Saturday I might have something about whores instead of "You're welcome" by accident.

2006-03-11T12:24:00.000+01:00

It's a klutz, klutz world
Apparently, birthday parties aren't my thing. It is not only an indirect reminder of your mortality, it could also literally put you in an early grave. I helped a friend to cook for her birthday party and she thanked me by dropping an espresso machine on my face. With the prior alcohol intake it was no big problem: a bleeding nose and profuse excuses later, the party was ready to getting started. As always I had a blast and almost split my head open while dancing (bending backwards while intoxicated is not a good idea as I have already found out at the company Christmas party). Either accidents love me or I love accidents, and true to myself, the evening ended in an accident but it's nothing that any insurance would cover. More news once all my wounds have healed.

2006-03-07T21:53:00.000+01:00

27 down but I'm not telling which
Here's the brain child of an afternoon spent in a Cambridgean pub with my best friend RP. It's occupational therapy in numbers: 100 things Annie might do before she dies. It's work in progress, so feel free to give suggestions in the comments.

1. Spend Christmas at a beach
2. Sex at a public place
3. Visit the five continents
4. Eat a guinnea pig/kangaroo/bison/alligator/snake
5. Eat worms/insects/snails
6. Go to a strip club
7. Kick somebody into the crotch
8. Go skinny dipping
9. Enter a food competition
10. Drink a guy under the table
11. Swim in the ice
12. Have a toga party
13. Be the "other" woman
14. Wear a pink/leather mini skirt
15. Step into a dog pile in Paris
16. Eat in restaurants with 50 different cuisines
17. Start and stop smoking
18. Smoke pot and feel it
19. Strip
20. Pee in a front yard
21. Bake a space cake
22. Sing karaoke
23. Dye your hair platinum blond
24. Get a Brazilian wax
25. Get into a fight
26. Get a black eye
27. Learn ballroom dancing
28. Go on a road trip
29. Buy a sex toy
30. Party until 7am and have breakfast
31. Hitchhike/Pick up a hitchhiker
32. Plant a tree
33. Go whitewater rafting
34. Flash your tits at Mardi Gras
35. Fast for a week
36. Speed/Online dating
37. Get lost in the woods (or while hiking)
38. Spend Valentine's Day with someone you love
39. Bungee Jumping
40. Travel on a hot air balloon
41. Impersonating royalty
42. Get licked by a camel/llama
43. Have a blackout and wake up naked
44. Laugh until you pee
45. Dance in a rain storm
46. Kiss someone from the same sex
47. Have a friend with benefits
48. Miss a flight and not care
49. Get hammered from champagne only
50. Eat sheep's testicles
51. Buy a diamond
52. Drunk dial and declare your love
53. Have a cleaner/maid
54. Swim with dolphins
55. Cook a dinner for 30 people
56. Insult a celebrity in person
57. Call into work sick when you're not
58. Fly an airplane
59. Spend time on a deserted island
60. Publish a short story
61. Get drunk with your boss
62. Learn an obscure sport
63. Vent your anger on your belongings
64. Hit on a stranger in a supermarket
65. Crash a party
66. Sew your own clothes/knit a sweater
67. Have dinner at a Michelin star restaurant
68. Invite a homeless person for dinner
69. Fire a gun

2006-03-01T01:47:00.000+01:00

Same old, same old
I just noticed that I forgot my blog's birthday. But then again I tend to forget all kinds of anniversaries because I find them meaningless. However, this blog has lasted a whole year longer than my longest relationships so I would understand if it withheld sex from me as a punishment for not buying it a present. Luckily, a blog can't do that and this is one of the reasons why our relationship has lasted as long as it already has.

Lots of things have changed since I first started to publish my drivel on the web: I am single, I don't hate my flatmate, I earn money, and I don't binge on coke (the drinkable kind) any more.

Even more things are the same as in 2002: I live in England (again), sit in front of the same old laptop, my diet still consists of frozen pizza and nothing actually happens which is worthwhile to blog about.

These are today's minutiae that "Much Ado" has to put up with:

I got an email from the Brussels HR to inform me that they are finally going to pay me last year's bonus. After taxes, I will be able to buy a stick of gum for it. Working hard has never felt so rewarding.

At lunch I sat at a table with both the co-worker I claim to find hot to get a break from the wannabe matchmakers in the office and the co-worker that I'm actually attracted to.

TF called me and we complained about work for 77 minutes.

I expect my blog to file for divorce on the grounds of boredom any day now.

2006-02-21T18:54:00.000+01:00

It's only funny because it's true
Last Friday I had my first lumbago ever and almost keeled over with pain in front of my office. I made it up the stairs and to my desk but for the rest of the day I lurched through the cubicle jungle like the hunchback of Notre-Dame. The very concerned people from my department offered to drive me to a walk-in clinic but I declined politely. I am a firm believer in the natural selection process and declared that it would either go away by itself or take me down with it. Infantility of the mind and frailness of the body rarely go well together.

The weekend passed well when I used alcohol to numb my back. First thing on Monday, my boss cornered me.
Boss: How was your weekend? Did you go to the doctor?
Me: No, I really didn't need to.
Boss: So how's your back?
Me: Thanks, better. It only hurts when I laugh.
Boss: You have come to the right place then.