Throwing knowledge

Christmas 2009, parents' house. (I don't say home because I don't consider the place, the small town, the mindset my home.. anymore or never have, I'm not sure.) My mother is urging me again to throw away the big folders that I've left behind when I moved back in on the way from L. to F.

"You will never look at them again."
"I will, I need them."
"If you needed them, you would take them with you. Of what use can they be here?"

I can't take them with me and don't want to. Maybe I wouldn't even miss them if they got lost, along with the other stuff with which I'm cluttering their house. But I can't get myself to throw away these folders.. all the knowledge I have gathered in the first five or the second two years at university, witnesses of a great time I had, learning, meeting people, partying, laughing, singing, screaming and crying.

You can't throw away that knowledge, can you?!

Ugh no!

And of course, there are things I detest:

• men with long fingernails
• coffee breath
• the combination shorts - sandals - socks
• high pitched voices, especially with men
• getting up early if I have to
• rain for days on end
• day 2 to 4 of a cold
• beet root
• people who lie to me so blatantly that I'm bound to find out
• the smell of cooked parsley (just thinking of it makes me feel all queasy)
• getting up when it's still dark (however I like going to bed when it's already light)
• drivers who take ages to get going on a traffic light so that it turns red right before me
• shopping for clothes and shoes, especially if I need something specific
• techno music
• coriander leaves.. don't you agree that they taste like soap? (yes, I've tried..)

(to be continued)

Yes!

There is this song by Rolf Zuckowski where he and a bunch of kids sing what all they like...

I like:
• the sound of the first hot water drops when they hit the tea leaves
• men with long clean hair
• being inside when it rains
• rolling around in the sand when it's warm
• surprising people and being surprised
• singing without care
• presents and sms
• caramel ice-cream with pecans in it
• staying up and sleeping in
• smiles and laughs
• the shock of the cold sea on a hot beach day
• big waves and strong wind
• kisses and caresses
• furry animals
• blue and rainbows
• avocado sushi
• violins in a metal band

Talking Inspiration

I was spending the afternoon with two friends, a girl and a man. And while we were talking, it occured to me every now and then that this might be worth writing something about it.

Am I getting a bit weird(er) now by screening conversations for blog material? Maybe. But I think a few topics do have potential: 1) A compliment guide for men and women, 2) Things (not) to do when you just started dating and 3) umm .. err.. I forgot but will add it in case I remember later.

Perhaps I should take little notes when talking to people. Now that would be really weird, wouldn't it? ;-)

11 years later

13 June 1998, Turin. I had been studying in Geneva for about four months now, with the visit of my friend here finally met the right people at the right places - local headbangers from the city and the bordering France - don't ask where you meet those ;-).

And so we reach Turin in the late sunny morning after a three-hour-journey in a bus full of metal-heads (metal fans are perfectly nice and polite, believe me). Destination: the Monsters Of Rock festival, one day of finest hard rock and metal of all kinds and colours.

And the second last act (the concert having started with lesser known acts as Hammerfall or Uli John Roth - remember, we are talking 1998 here - and according to schedule ending with the great Deep Purple), opening with a red red light show, is DREAM THEATER.

Leap in time: 18 October 2009, Frankfurt, Jahrhunderthalle, 10 p.m. The three supporting acts Unexpect, Bigelf and Opeth have finally finished (not that I didn't like them but: I WANT DREAM THEATER!!!)

Guitar sounds and drum beats are permeating the black curtain which is removed suddenly. A Nightmare To Remember begins: an instrumental intro before singer James LaBrie comes running on stage and starts singing with piercing intensity.

A video screen on the back of the stage shows films and scenes from the stage - I don't need that, I'm standing in the third row, two metres away from the stage, just separated by two fans, one security man with a poker face and a low fence.

One and a half hours of pure bliss follow in which all five musicians show once again that they excel on their instruments and - especially Mike Portnoy, John Petrucci and Jordan Ruddess - fully enjoy themselves and what they are doing.

My favourites of the evening? Hard to say but I would go for Sacrificed Sons and the encore The Count Of Tuscany.

And oh yea, I had to have this shirt:

Shades of curiousity

I see them passing by
not knowing where they go
nor when they're coming back

They stumble in and out my life.
I'm well allowed to ask them,
am not entitled to replies

I have to twist my words
- if you offend the shadows
they punish you: they don't come back

Alles Gute zum Geburtstag!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SISTAHHH!!!

I'm very lucky to have you in my life. You make me see that growing up doesn't have to go hand in hand with becoming sensible or having an answer to everything. You don't have to be all serious and normal but can remain silly, smart and foolish.

Love you lots and wish you a rocking day and an awesome year ahead with tons of hugs and kisses!

PS: This thistle is like you - a beautiful vibrant wild growing thing :-).

Speed

Remember that movie Speed where they couldn't go below 50 mph? Well, for me it seems to be 130 km/h when I'm driving on the Autobahn. Even at dusk, even at night, even with rain and wet roads.

What am I afraid of? That a bomb could blow up my car? Not very likely. That speeding is the only way to escape an accident? Err.. Traffic jam maybe? The boredom of a 300 km drive? Do I have to prove to myself that I can set new records for that distance and that I can catch up those lost 20 minutes during rush hour?

Either way, I won't change because I don't want to change and I think that I'm a good enough and rather reasonable driver (no risky overtaking manoeuvres, no microsleep, no headphones) to allow myself the need for speed.

Imagine if I had a bike...

The missing gene

What the heck is wrong with me? What gene am I missing that keeps people from hurting themselves all the time? Or is there a gene that's responsible for extra clumsiness? I must have three of them.

Wanna hear about my (not atypical) morning? After work, I was on my way with the scooter (purchased yesterday) when I suddenly lost control (no idea how that happened), practically flew over that thing, skinned my knee, damaged my new pants and lost my mobile which I noticed only 300 metres ahead. Luckily, the person who found it was honest and smart enough to call some of the numbers I had dialled last and so my friend could pick it up. Phew, one problem out of three solved ;-)

But the question remains: Where is the missing gene?

So what

I hate gravity when I'm buffing jewellery.
- But wouldn't it be more difficult to pick up the beads from the ceiling?

I hate that rolls are the hottest when they're the tastiest.
- And doesn't that teach me a little patience?

I hate that I mess up a perfect dish in the last moment.
- The good thing however is that I always have a plan B.

I hate that I end up with ink all over myself when I refill printer cartridges.
- Oh well, save money or mess - the choice is mine.

I hate that a catastrophe happens whenever I complain that my life is boring.
- But yes, I learned not to complain for no reason.

But seriously..

Serious question: Does alcohol in general taste bitter? Or vodka? Or cheap vodka? Why I am asking? Because I made this Dooley's fake and when I had some on ice-cream last night, I found it having a slightly bitter aftertaste.

When we were kids (10, 11, 12ish), my cousin and I loved birthday parties at our grand-parents' as grandma would sometimes give us each one of those chocolate lined little wafercups, filled with heavily diluted advocaat. We loved that stuff. Another forbidden pleasure was orange slices dipped in the same liquor, let's not tell mum...

The funny thing is that when I was an adult and would have been allowed to that, I didn't feel like it at all. I had an unexplicable bad feeling and stayed away for some years. Now it has kind of normalised, I drink socially, like cocktails, don't mind wine.

Still an "eww, no thanks, can I have water instead please": coffee.

Psychedelic Sandwich

.



***
PS: No post processing whatsoever, just taken with an exposure of about 20 seconds.

Superficially unhappy

Can you do that for me please? - Ok.

Aren't you happy for me? - Of course I am.

How are you? - I'm good.


What are you doing for me? No, I'm not happy, I'm dead-jealous. And I'm bad, I'm unhappy, I'm crappy, life sucks, for no reason. Leave me alone.

Hottest day or Woodstock or Know-it-all

Warm, I'm warm
Bear me, I couldn't
Folk music following me
What does it want?

LSD for dinner, crack for dessert
Mediocre performance
Violent dreams keep my eyes open
Go away.

Dust turning to mud
Jump, sing
No energy left
Cheers to imperfection!

Talismans

K. showed me his new picture and my attention was drawn to something. "What's that around your neck?", I asked. "My mum sent it and asked me to wear it. It's some religious symbol, I don't know exactly." "You wear it just like that without knowing what it means?" "Well, it means a lot to her and I don't mind, so.."

A. was wearing a silver ring I liked. "Show me please.". He took it off and handed it to me. Спаси и сохрани (rescue and save) was engraved on it. I looked at him questioningly when I returned the ring. "I got it in church, to be reminded that god is watching over me."

S. doesn't take a step without a few Ganeshas at her side. Don't take me too literal - one is on a ribbon around her neck, another one in a small tin, watching over the chewing gum ;-). No offense please, that's a joke I cracked when she offered me gum and I saw the little figurine in there. She laughed.

A talisman, a lucky charm, a symbol whatsoever - I want that. A charm bracelet is not the same nor is the little silver Sardinia I brought back to remember that beautiful place. It has to be something someone gave to you, that bears their good wishes for you, that is supposed to protect you and that you must never take off. Probably that is all superstition but I like the idea of carrying a piece of someone (that sounds gory but you know what I mean), or a piece of their mind if you will.

Of course it has to be someone special who gives it to you, like a family member, a close friend, your love. Maybe I am weird (definitely I am but maybe this is weird.. gee, I'm so Lorelai..) but what I would like best is something that the other person wore before (remember, we're still talking about a charm, not clothes or something like that!), which would make it even more part of them and their history - and now part of mine...

***

PS: I apologise for the excessive use of hyperlinks lately but since I figured out how that works, it is my favourite toy ;-)

Little Differences

Germany is not a particularly big country (ok, it's not Luxemburg size either), so you would expect the people with their one language, one tradition, one culture to be more or less the same. They are not.

And I am not only talking about the still obvious differences between East and West. Yes, they are there, definitely still in my generation though I was 13 when the Wall came down. Different school and kindergarten memories, different holiday locations, different childhood heroes (Krtek and Nu Pagadi for me, can't stand Augsburger Puppenkiste), second anthem in our life - a fact that confuses me as much as our Michael Ballack (one day younger than me exactly) and Bernd Schneider (just pay attention at the beginning of the next Germany - whoever game).

But what I am actually getting at is the differences between two regions of the same "side", barely 250 km away from one another - Hessen (Frankfurt area) and Nordrhein-Westfalen (greater Düsseldorf). I have been living in the former for almost five years now and believe it or not, didn't make a single friend among the locals. And it's not that I am exceptionally unsocial, S., my Hindi classmate from Hamburg and first friend in this hostile city has the same problem. And so does C., a fellow Eastern girl.

Then I met M. (many of you will know her, too), who lives in the latter area, and her friends. They are different from me and from my "usual crowd". Normal people, sometimes crude, unpretentious but warm, affectionate and sincere. It didn't take me long to like them nor them to like me. You might interject that I met them through M. only, that it would be another thing to meet them by myself. I don't think so, they are just what they are, know them or don't, meet them this way or another. Is it the climate? The dialect? The industrial area? Either way, the differences are there.

Midsummer Nostalgia

I drove back from D. last night after having spent a long weekend there, mostly in my friend's garden, doing a fulfilling lot of nothing.

And there it was again, that stretch inside me, that pulling on my soul that comes with the smell of flowers in a summer night, with their sight against the dark sky, that doesn't say what it wants nor where it wants me. All it says is: not here. And not now.

The summer night's got so much potential, its scent caressing my skin like dark blue velvet. I want to follow it, want it so badly. I get lost. A light breeze tugging on my mind, pulling my thoughts away to the corner of memories. Sweet.

I brush it off, together with those tears.

***

Soundtrack to the post

Is money the base?

"Wir leben in einer Welt, in der Geld die Basis ist" - so said one of the presidents of the DBU (German Buddhist Union) when confronted with the fact that the Dalai Lama's visit to Frankfurt was commercialised to no end, entry prices up to 200 € including.

It seems strange and scary to me if even a committed buddhist sees money as the base of the world. What happened to the ideals? Are we all material and materialistic? Do we need money to prove our own value? Does it mean I am less intelligent if I make less money than others?
"They say money is the root of all evil. But what is the root of money?"

Lots of questions, few answers. Or are there?

Missed you

This past weekend, my friend F. was here to visit. He used to be my roommate for five years and two apartments, until six years ago. We live about 600 km apart now but are still in touch, still friends. And while we're apart, we're both fine, living our respective lives, having a good time. Now when we met for the first time in 1.5 years, I realised that I missed him. We had so much fun all weekend and didn't even get around to doing all the great things that were on the list.

Similar with N. We are the kind of friends who can be out of touch for months, no expectations, no pressure. And then we meet again...

Or Av. We used to chat almost daily, text each other and occasionally talk on the phone during the past weeks, our conversations getting more and more intense with time. Due to his tight work schedule and my visitor, we hardly talked at all since maybe a week. I was fine, didn't care, busy with training, new student and my weekend visitor. Today, we talked for a longer time again and all of a sudden it hit me that I had missed him quite a bit.

Is it just me or has anybody else experienced that - not missing a person much while they're gone but realising that there had been a void when you get back together?

About Last Night (not quite a film review)

It is 1986 in Chicago, 20 something Danny meets Debbie, same age, at a baseball game, looks are exchanged between the two. Afterwards he walks up to her, they get to talk and finally end up in bed that very night. And then again. And again.

So far so simple but Debbie has an affair with her boss and Danny believes a bit too much in his friend and colleague Bernie's advice ('You called her three times? Never call a broad more than twice a week!').

Debbie and Danny start falling in love, she breaks up with her boss, and in the morning of one night, Danny offers Debbie "a drawer". Next thing we see is Debbie informing her long-term friend and room mate Joan that she's moving in with Danny. Joan couldn't be less thrilled.

Shortly after they move in together, the problems start. Danny feels that Debbie('s stuff) is taking over the place, that there are too many changes. Debbie can see that he has had an awful day at work but to her question if everything is alright, he replies 'yes'. She feels forced to snoop around in order to find out anything about Danny at all that will help her to get closer to him. He won't open up, claiming that he just doesn't want to make her unhappy. Under tears she tells him that she is not unhappy.

The rest is not surprising. Both feel hemmed in by the relationship and so they decide to seperate even though they still love each other. Long story short: Things end well, and yay, we get a happy ending.

So far so cliché but as this is an 80s movie (part of my movie watching project), I asked myself a couple of questions while watching it: Did people move in faster? Were they more naive, more trusting or was it not that big a deal? Today, we are thinking and considering and reconsidering and weighing our options - was that different back then? And: Did people, especially men, generally avoid talking about their feelings, bottling them inside themselves until one day they would explode? If so, then I know at least one guy who would very well fit into that decade ;-)

Anyway, it was a nice film, one of the Brat Pack movies, nothing spectacular but entertaining, directed by Edward Zwick and with beautiful actors like Demi Moore as Debbie and Rob Lowe (*drool*) as Danny.

Oh, and if you think this review is too long - keep it to yourself - or the movie too old - that's what they call a classic.

Coming of Age

kid wants to play in the grown-ups' court
cannot reach to the shelf but won't listen to 'no'
kid wants to read all the grown-ups' books
cannot understand a word but so sure doesn't care

go, kid, and play with the other kids
go and have fun, leave the worries to us
wait till you grow up, wait till you get wise
we will heap responsibilities on you then

go, kid, and play, let your kite fly high
the era of innocence, enjoy while it lasts
bye kid, now run, I will wave after you
fall and stand up, little steps at a time

Original Of The Species

Just like we sometimes pull people into our life because we subconsciously need them at that moment in time (more about that in a later post), we occasionally get exactly the kind of music that speaks to us. For me right now it is U2's How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb and there particularly the song that gave the title to this post.

Music can be soothing they say (ugh, I don't want to be soothed). But what music does to me is putting things into perspective, to get me out of the blues (try Gary Moore's Still Got The Blues - ironic, I know) and to show me that it's silly wasting time being scared.

'Baby slow down
The end is not as fun as the start
Please stay a child somewhere in your heart'

I'm not the only one feeling the way I do and at the same time I'm special to some. You know that but I keep forgetting it, oh well .. just need a reminder every now and then. And no, I won't mind if you tell it to me ;-)

'And you feel like no-one before
You steal right under my door
And I kneel ‘cos I want you some more
I want the lot of what you got
And I want nothing that you're not'

I don't believe in modesty, I said so before. What we take for being humble is mostly fake. Why fake modesty if you can carry out real confidence? Not bragging, not telling the world that you are the greatest. But know what you can and accept recognition with a smile.

'Everywhere you go you shout it
You don't have to be shy about it'

"We will kiss until we achieve perfection in it." - "And then, are we going to quit?" - "Well, we will mess up deliberately, so that we can keep practising." Isn't that a lovely perspective? The best..

'Some things you shouldn't get too good at
Like smiling, crying and celebrity'

(lyrics borrowed from Original Of The Species, of course)

Imbalance

When I look at my latest posts, I see that it's mainly pictures or poems or a mix of both. Every time I try prose, just narrating what I think the result is crap. I feel imbalanced, I'm unhappy with my writings, I feel it's superficial and meaningless, just blabber. That's the reason my other post of today got deleted - self-censoring.

Maybe it's because I'm unhappy with myself at this moment, with my life. I'm achieving nothing, I'm inactive .. and don't tell me it's good to be lazy sometimes. I'm like a lizzard without enjoying to be one, I risk to get caught and lose my tail. It's just a figure of speech but you know what I mean.

I have lost the ability to express my thoughts, lost the "knack" N. said I have. Or have my thoughts just become plain boring? Maybe both.
I can't finish anything, not even the smallest task. I hate it that I am like that, hate that I can't seem to change it.

There is no inspiration to paint either. When I think of all the things I have to do this week, it scares me to tears. I panic in a way that I get completely paralysed and I have no one to talk to about it. It's worse today than other days .. must be the Sunday effect. Let me try to get over with the day and look tomorrow in the eye.

Where

Where do the words go,
everything you ever typed?
Where do ideas go,
all the ones that you thought?

Where do the sounds go,
all the songs that you sing?
Where do your feelings go,
every thing that you touched?

Where is your strength, determination, conviction, the plans,
what happened to them?
Do we misplace our love, trade in our mind
for a calm life, for comfort, for rationality?

Self-portrait of the artist as a young woman

Sunshine Lollipop

I'm not going to write much in this post because it is a task for you. What do you feel about these pictures? And why do they make you feel this way? And finally: which one is sunset and which one sunrise?

Procrastinating

I should apply for new jobs.
I should run.
I should study and do homework.
I should upload pictures.
I should write critiques.
I should go out.
I should sweep.
I should look for a GP.
I should do laundry.
I should get up early.
I should read the unread books.
I should watch the unseen movies.
I should keep my blog updated.
I should finally write that review.

Instead, I do nothing. I postpone the job search, I rewatch old serials, I spend my time surfing the net to gather information about polymer clay and beading, I bead and clay, I take photos out of my window and inside my flat. I wait for summer.

I wait for a miracle.

Dag/ Jour 7 - Brussels

+ Last day, last opportunity to buy souvenirs (in the form of sweets and postcards), last time to make a complete mess by eating a gaufre au caramel et à la crême fraîche (waffle with caramel and cream), to check if Manneken Pis is wearing clothes today (he isn't), to find the original Neuhaus chocolate shop, the one that started in 1825 as a pharmacy where chocolate was prescribed as medicine (:D) and to see my friends before they're gonna be four (9th June) instead of three.

+ Morning at the bus stop: A slightly dirty and smelly drunk/stoned/weird young guy walks up to me, asks me something which I don't quite understand and tell him no. Enters the bus before me, buys a ticket, doesn't quite know which way to put it into the machine. Gives the following explanation to the bus driver "I'm a little distracted, I'm in love". After he finally manages and walks off, the driver says to me with a wink "She must be so happy..." ;-)

+ Okay, dear followers of Saltyyfish's Guide to Belgium, that was it. I survived, had fun, will come back with minor injuries only and herewith close my travel diary. Any questions and remarks are welcome of course.

The end - la fin - het einde

***

Jour 6 - Dinant, Namur

+ Digging into Wallonia today, the French speaking part of Belgium. Dinant is a little town with a big citadel which - bien sûr - we had to visit. By cablecar that we first didn't find. "Ask somebody!" How to ask if I couldn't remember the French word for it to save my life. Anyway, we found it and now I know what it is called: téléphérique.

+ Anyone of you into Jazz? You must be grateful to the man from Dinant, Adolphe Sax, who invented... exactly:

+ Another town - Namur, capital of Wallonia, about ten times the size of Dinant (and the dust and the building sites) - another citadel. Phew...

+ My mum's guide book mentions Namur as a the gourmet capital of Belgium and it led us to a cafe called La Maison des desserts. And it rightfully bears this name *drools*. We bought a little package of a local delicacy, Bietrumé, which is some kind of chewy caramel, made from butter, sugar and hazelnuts, and something I have been craving for since I first saw them: Macarons, very colourful, very tender, very perfumed taste :/.

Jour/ Dag 5 - Brussels

+ Ever been inside an iron crystal? :D Well, I have today, so I can tell you that it's hot (no AC) and a bit like you would imagine the insides of a spaceship.

Ok ok, the solution to the riddle - the Atomium, built for the Expo in 1958 in the shape of a unit cell of an iron crystal magnified 165 billion times. The whole thing was (similar to the Eiffel Tower) supposed to remain there for just six months but well, it's 51 years now.

+ 27 countries in three hours - woohoo!! Try and beat that ;-). Mini-Europe makes it possible. You find miniature buildings and places from all 27 EU-nations on a scale of 1:25, starting with the building of the European Commission in Brussels itself. In the park, I saw some (real) ducks and dragonflies - now imagine the freakishly giant animals if these are 1:25 as well...

Jour/ Dag 4 - Brussels

+ Technically, Brussels is bilingual, French and Dutch. Practically it is mostly French that is spoken and that allows you to get by almost everywhere. Strange.

+ Travelling with my mother is really great but also very exhausting. Great because I get to see a lot of things and places, more than when travelling on my own or with friends because we plan more and she informs beforehand. Exhausting because I have to do all the planning, organising and itinerary forming. And we can never just walk around aimlessly, there always has to be a next destination, a reason to go somewhere, a sight worth seeing. Phew..

+ Visited the Musée du chocolat et du cacao this morning, complete with demonstration and tasting. Yummy!

+ Talked mum into trying a regional specialty, Waterzooi, which was kind of a stew with fish and seashells. I would never eat something like that ;-)

+ Made an observation today or yesterday: Belgium "shuts down" at around 6.00 to 6.30 pm. Shops close, museums won't let you in anymore and even churches start kicking you out. And it doesn't matter much which part of the country you are in.

+ Oh and speaking of churches: they are beautiful, no doubt. But as soon as I enter one, I feel my church allergy breaking out again, thinking how the priests must have squeezed the money to build these churches out of poor believers centuries ago.

In case you miss me

or Belgium for everyone or Look, tdm, I can, too ;-)

I'm travelling Belgium for a week from today with my mum and plan to write a little travel diary.

Day 1 - Brussels:

+ four hour journey - rain, shine, rain, shine, rain, shine!!!

+ "You can park in the yard, no problem", that's what my friends told me the first time I visited them at their new place. And so I did today when we arrived before them. Left and at our return an hour later, my little car was blocked by a huge vehicle. First argh. Later, when we were to move on to the other place, there was a hand-written note on the windshield: Private parking space. Last warning! Big argh!! Interestingly, I never got a first or second warning :/

+ Took my laptop with me in order to transfer photos from my camera every night. And just for the heck of it, I checked if there was one or the other open wireless network around - and yay! there are :-) So I hope to write something here every day.

Dag 2 (aha!) - Oostende, De Haan, Brugge

+ Lovely beach, sunny weather but Oostende is a relatively ugly place. Plus there is construction going on all over town. Someone asked the following question:

(So much of digging and still no treasure?)

+ "There is Dover!" "Where?" "Over there! (pointing to the horizon)" "Oh yea, now I can see it, too" So what if we just saw a far away containership..

+ We both don't like fries, normally never eat them, but in De Haan, we decided that at least once, we should have the Belgian national dish. All the food in this "friet kot" was deep-fried, add the famous chocolate and beer to that and you are surprised that not every Belgian is rolling instead of walking.

+ Went on a boat tour along the canals of Brugge and had a very entertaining captain: "To the left, you see a brewery. The water used for this beer comes from the canal and the beer is destined for export only.". "Now we are passing the lowest bridge in Brugge, please don't stand up. By the way, this is where I lost my hair."

+ Oh, and a little footnote: Somehow there is a wrong connection in my mind. It thinks that you can get sunburned only during actual beach holidays, not on a city trip. Alas ...

Dag 3 - Antwerpen, Gent

+ The most brillant part of Antwerpen is the Diamant Museum. I want all of them, or at least a pair of little diamond ear studs, half a carat each, from one of the numerous jewellery shops in the "diamond area" - for the modest price of 2650,- €.

+ Ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch! My shin hurts after i missed the last step of stone stairs on Thursday :(. How do you know if you've broken something?

+ ".. en twee postzegels voor Duitsland aub." "Wow, u spreekt goed Nederlands!" "Dank u, ik heb het ooit geleerd." "Heel goed, echt!" *pats own back*
I'm always amazed when I understand people speaking Dutch, they understand me and don't even have the urge to switch to English or German. This was the first open compliment I got, so apparently my Dutch isn't as rusted as I was afraid it might be :D

ACHEMA 2009

The book fair, a music fair, an art and crafts fair, that's where you would expect to find me. But the ACHEMA? The 29th International Exhibition-Congress on Chemical Engineering, Environmental Protection and Biotechnology? Hmm...

Have I all of a sudden discovered my long dormant interest in natural sciences and engineering? Not really. But still, I went to that fair, feeling a little bit out of place from the beginning and earned quite a few looks - admiring, disapproving, plain curious - it's hard to say. The men-women ratio at the fair was about 9:1. And then I wasn't dressed like your typical congress attending business lady, in costume or pantsuit, nor like one of the few female students, in worn out jeans and T-shirts. So you can imagine that I stood out a little.

I walked through the endless corridors, from one moving walkway to the next, escalator up, escalator down, trying not to lose orientation until I reached Hall 9, the engineering hall. Because - and now we are coming to the purpose of my visit to ACHEMA - that's where the friend I was going to meet had his stall. I roamed around the stands at H21, hoping to see my friend. When I had surrounded the area twice without having seen him, but not without being watched intensely and with slight suspicion, I messaged him to learn that he would be back in 15 minutes.

What followed was a quarter of an hour well spent. I was strolling through the aisles, amazed by the passion and earnest all these people were displaying. Shocked by my own entire and complete ignorance, and deeply amused about slogans like "We bring plastic in shape" or for some sealing device "Nothing may come out". Not so funny now but on the spot, I really had to work on not bursting into laughter. So (not only because of this) I was relieved to finally see my friend..

I'm sure you read this, so I want to say thanks again, it was great meeting you, and you also provided me with an experience I normally wouldn't have had ;-)

Ground Rules

I haven't written much lately. I started writing this blog because I wanted to have a place to puke out my thoughts and emotions in order not to run amok in "real" life. I wanted a valve. But then a few people started reading my blog and commenting on it. And that made me all conscious. It's just like on TrekLens where I take ages to decide on a photo to post because people started watching me.

My sister reads my blog, one friend tagged me, another one advises me not to publish too personal stuff, one person thinks he knows me because he has read a couple of my posts. I know you all mean well but I will go back to square one, follow the rule again that I made when I started this thingy: If you like what I am writing, I'm happy. If you don't, I couldn't care less.

So if what I am writing doesn't make sense, appears useless or foolish to you - I don't give a damn.

Symbolism

Push

The end of something,
The start of something new.
Maybe. I hope. I want.

It's been so long I took a risk.
Or have I never?
Was I too scared, too lazy?

This time it's different.
I go for it, I want.
Out of so many passions follow one.

Inspired

A cloud, a plant, reflection on a wave, a song
The forms behind which inspiration hides.
A brush, a pen, a key, a string, a hammer
The instruments to tease her out.

With curiosity and passion you I beckon
You cave, not always but more yes than not.
"In dreams I'll come, if you can't see me, sleep
Wake up and you will feel the shades of mine."

Random Thoughts

I think that for everyone, there is one person (at a time) who loves you and one person whom you love. Ideally, it's the same. Often it is not..

Is love an "upgrade" to friendship or is it just a different feeling? How come that the transfer from friendship to love is very possible, love to friendship however extremely rare?

Is friendship the base for everything? Could I love someone with whom I can't imagine to be friends?

I have heard from several people that loving means to be happy when the loved person is, even if it is without you, that love is your personal thing and doesn't really have anything to do with the other. Is it, really? Am only I so selfish that I want him to be happy with me? It's not that I'd want him to be unhappy if he doesn't love me, I would just stop loving him after some time.

What is love anyway? The all consuming passionate "I can't live without you and would rather kill myself than trying" feeling from the movies? I seriously doubt it (or to say it with Sheldon "I hardly think so"). Maybe it is much more silent and has many different ways of expressing itself. Someone who bears with your moods. Who travels 200 km by train to drive you back in your own car because you have fallen ill at your friend's place. Who does your taxes for you. Who makes an effort to please your parents. Who doesn't criticise but supports all your attempts.

If I were proposed for marriage, white gold ring with solitaire sapphire surrounded by little diamonds (Libran after all) included, would I squeak and jump at his neck or would I think: What a waste, think of all the photo equipment I could have had for that money?

When do you stop being a child? When are you allowed to take your own decisions, however risky they may be? Without answering to anyone, especially not your mother? When will you be trusted to have enough common sense to do the right thing even far away from home?

Questions over questions... and you say you feel interrogated - when I don't even have answers to myself..

100 Ways To Kill Your Laptop

"Windows is trying to initiate software.." (a software that you had been using for the past five months without any problem). You are trying to install an update to a program and after making you wait for several minutes, it succinctly tells you "X has encountered a problem and needs to close. We are sorry for the inconvenience.". Every time you insert a DVD, start the DVD program and just think about maximising the window, your entire system freezes. And of course your computer takes an eternity between the moment you press the On-button and the time you can safely start using any software.

I don't know about you but in these situations, I get so angry at my laptop that the word "DESTROY" is blinking red in my eyes. Feel the same? Here's what you can do:

1 - Be careless. Use a cheap, not cushioned bag to carry your laptop and don't be particularly attentive when it comes to avoiding obstacles. Move your laptop abruptly while it is switched on.

2 - Drop it. That one is definitely the fastest method and doesn't require further explanation. Depending on how much time you have at your disposal, let the laptop fall from your desk onto a chair or the floor.

3 - Hit it. Your laptop doesn't do what you want it to do? The system froze? The Internet connection is flaky? Hit it, with your flat hand or fist. This is even more effective if you know where exactly its "heart" and "brain" are located.

4 - Drown it. Works just as well with plain water as with ginger tea, coke, milk or any other fluid of your choice. If you turn the laptop around and dry it carefully, it might survive the attack but who would want that?

5 - Squeeze it. Squeeze it? Yes, squeeze the display. The procedure is simple: You bend the upper part towards you to easily access the laptop's back where you want to pull a number of plugs. Instead of holding it by a safe corner, you keep your fingers about 2 cm further down. When you're done unplugging and bend the display back to the initial position - oops, black screen!

These methods are tested and approved by me personally, I know that they are efficient. For numbers 6 to 100, I hope for your contribution. So if you have ever willingly or unwillingly harmed, damaged or killed your laptop (somebody else's works just as well), please don't hesitate to share your tips :-D

The Breakfast Club

How do you review the movie that you like the most? How do you transfer the calmly burning enthusiasm without giving away too much? Without repeating the contents of every other critique? I have no idea but I know I must try.
___

... The Breakfast Club has been released in the United States of 1985 and was directed by John Hughes, Jr. It is a movie full of music. The theme song, Simple Minds' 'Don't You (Forget About Me)' is the motive of the whole film. The movie is minimalistic, the setting for the biggest part of it is the library of a high school in a Chicago suburb. None of the dialogues is redundant, there are no lengths and the ending is as positive as it is poignant.

... Five high school students who couldn't be more diverse from one another have to spend a whole precious Saturday in detention. They are referred to as "a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, a criminal" and that's how they initially see themselves. "We were brainwashed."

... Indifference, dislike, loyalty facing the authoritarian frustrated principal, rejection, interest, honesty, recognition and attraction - those are the stages these five youths are going through within nine hours of their life.

... There is Brian, an A student, coming from the perfect family, having the perfect GPA, living the perfect life his parents expect him to.
... Andrew, wrestler in the school team, aiming for a sports scholarship, who does whatever to impress his dad.
... Allison, who does everything to get attention and disappears behind a self-erected protective wall of hair and hood.
... Claire, the princess, so unbelievably popular, who feels crushed between her parents' endless fights and her friends' constant pressure.
... And John, unadapted rebel, criminal, born agent provocateur who won't let anyone scratch the surface.

Nine hours are a long time.
... A time to impress ("So, what's your poison? What do you drink?" - "Vodka!" - "Vodka? When do you drink Vodka?" - "Whenever." - "A lot?" - "Tonsss."),
... to threaten ("I don't wanna get into this with you, man." - "Why not?" - "Because I'd kill you."),
... to provoke ("What's that?" - "Sushi." - "Sushi?" - "Rice, raw fish and seaweed." - "You won't accept a guy's tongue in your mouth, but you eat that?"),
... to hit ("Just you and me. Two hits. Me hitting you, you hitting the floor."),
... to run ("Being bad feels pretty good, huh?"),
... to protect ("We're dead." - "No. Just me."),
... to laugh ("Was it a hand gun?" - "No, it was a flare gun. It went off in my locker." - "Really?" [laughter] "That's not funny! ... Okay, it is." [grins]),
... to feel and talk ("We're all weird. Some of us just hide it better."),
... to care ("Why are you so nice to me?" - "Because you're letting me."),
... to open up ("Were you or were you not motioning to Claire? - "Yeah, but .. it was only ... because I didn't want her to know that I was a virgin.")
... and to love ("Why did you do that?" - "Because I knew you wouldn't.").

... One thing remains: this Saturday doesn't transform them into better people. It is uncertain whether their friendship will survive the weekend but something will definitely last - the realisation that they have more in common than they would have guessed.

"Don't You Forget About Me
Don't Don't Don't Don't
Don't You Forget About Me

Will you recognise me?
Call my name or walk on by
Rain keeps falling, rain keeps falling
Down, down, down, down"

When life's too easy..

.. I just make it harder myself. Why did I decide to give up on dairy and eggs during lent? Why not give up on sweets for a few weeks? Or alcohol? I know, I know, you should renounce on something that you would actually miss ;-)

Day whatever:

Had a two-day-photo course this weekend and on Saturday, the teacher announced that we would order pizza the next day for lunch. Argh! But then, believe it or not, I resisted and ordered plain pizza bread instead of juicy yummy pizza Quattro Formaggi .. *pats own shoulder*.

One of my Monday's students always offers me tea which I usually take with milk and sugar. 'How will I tell her that I can't have that now?', I was wondering before. Easier than I thought: "Would you like some tea?" - "Yes, thank you, but without milk please." No fuss, no further questions.

Went grocery shopping just now because I needed some things and was craving sweets, too. While strolling through the aisles and checking ingredient lists, I realised that I can't eat any of the sweets I like and don't like any of those I can have. I want milk chocolate, caramel, ice cups, burfi, mushroom cream soup, cheeses, yogurt, waffles .. damn it! I want to pack it in, give up, throw it all. But I won't, not yet, not so easily. I want, I need to prove to myself that I have the determination to push this plan through. We will see...

Things that are not as they seem

Attitude of a bouncer, style of a hardrocker, naughty grin to make girls (ok, me) go weak at the knees - Bülent Ceylan! He enters the stage, loosens his backlong mane and shows his best heandbanging moves. No, that doesn't look wannabe, that looks *slurp*. Love him!
... If you ask girls what they're looking for in a man - sense of humour. He has to make me laugh. Looks don't matter. Yea, right! Of course looks matter. But humour does, too.
... Either way, Bülent Ceylan is a winner. He is a comedian, half Turkish, half German, born and brought up in Mannheim. For those who don't know it, in and around Mannheim, they speak a really funny dialect (seriously, ask anyone), combine that with his looks plus humour and ahhh! Cracks me up..

So guys, in case you were wondering about my type in men - see above ;-)

Goldfluss

mind voice
mind song
colours of the soul
colour of hope
gold river
sandy music
beach blue
reach out
call me
sing your blues
sing orange
green font
grey sky
shades of white
green laugh
smell of hope
frozen hug
now!