of course the matter with the cheese (see my last post) weighed heavily on my heart. after all i'm a good catholic girl. not that i felt compelled to go to confession. i mean it was just cheese and i've already destroyed the evidence. still, i felt it would suck big time if one day i realized that my reservation on a fuzzy cloud had been exchanged for a spot in a giant pot of boiling water. so i tried to prove my goodwill by attending a mess again last weekend.
it actually wasn't the first time that this idea had crossed my mind lately. about five month after moving to b-town, i received the monthly leaflet of "st. marien" in my mailbox. not only did this show me that god had ultimately blessed my move, but it also reminded me that it had been over eight years since i went to church the last time. and not that i've ever been there on a regular basis. of course i did the whole enchilada of baptism, first communion and confirmation. but in germany people tend to be rather fickle about religion and just try to get by with the big milestones of getting baptised, married and buried there. and of course they'll go to the interesting messes like christmas or easter.
my family is pretty typical of that. except maybe for my late grandma who went to mess every sunday. she even had a fluorescent "virgin mary" miniature on her nightstand. i think it was filled with holy water from a pilgrimage to lourdes. when i was little and stayed over at her house, i used to sleep in her bed. and like all grandmas, mine snored like crazy. so i would pull the blanket all over my head and try to fall asleep like that, clutching the "virgin mary" tightly against my chest. though as the cheese affair has proven, that didn't seem to have made me any more devout.
i've always been rather conflicted about religion anyway. when i was in 7th grade, my religion teacher asked us to draw god one day - just like we imagined him. and mine turned out to be rather traditional. an elderly bearded man in a robe and sandals, sitting on a cloud and holding the bible. i figured he should look a bit like jesus on those ancient paintings. after all, he was his dad and i had never heard that jesus came after mary look-wise. i drew the picture with crayons, but i didn't have a red one. so i used a red marker for his lips. and since man do have eyelashes, i also drew some nice long ones on god's face. but then in class we all had to present our pictures and the other people had to express what they saw in the picture. so when it was my turn, there was complete silence in the room before somebody shouted "he looks like a tranny" and people started to giggle. and as somebody else asked why my god was wearing lipstick, my teacher explained that what i wanted to tell people was that god could also be a woman. i actually didn't, but i nonetheless agreed with her. so i became the freak-girl who drew god as a bearded woman with flaming red lips.
anyway, i went to mess last sunday. and actually it went by pretty quickly and the priest even made a joke or two. the only thing that bugged me is that i couldn't find that one easter song i had always liked in the prayer book anymore. i guess it must haven fallen out of the christian church song charts.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
i stole cheese AKA the reconstruction of a crime
yep, i stole a "president le roux french country cheese" this week. an "extra creamy" country cheese for matter of fact. for 2.40 euro. and i know this sounds like a pretty shameless attack on the already weakened german economy, but i can assure you that it happened totally by accident. really. but in case you wanna try your own hands at shoplifting, this is how you do it:
look for a rather crowded aisle so you need to leave your shopping cart behind as you approach the cheese shelf. select your cheese carefully and take it from the shelf.
then -and this is the important part- you need to lose concentration for a moment. i recommend to either yawn generously or to reflect on that cute boy you kissed the past weekend. whatever works for you. then just as this moment is about to pass, you'll thoughtlessly slip the cheese into your tote. and i recommend you're going to use a tote for the day of the planned crime, as this kind of bag usually has a pretty big opening. this movement should come very naturally for you as your shopping cart isn't at hand, remember?
then you'll just walk back to the shopping cart and continue loading it with food. (if you get baguette, grapes and a bottle of wine you could have a "french dinner" that night.)
and now the tricky part. the check-out. you'll place all the product on the band for the cashier to ring up. but not the cheese!
after about half of your stuff is rang up, you'll carefully open your tote to take out some cotton bags. and then of course, you'll discover the cheese. you might have to practice a shocked facial expression at home in front of the mirror first, but for me spontaneity always works best. just, don't overdo it. you don't wanna attract the attention of your fellow shoppers or -even worse- the cashier. feign just enough, so that the security camera is able to register it. this is really important in case it comes to a court case about the stolen cheese.
now you've got two choices. a decent human being might take the cheese out of the tote, apologize to the cashier and then be arrested for shoplifting. but if you're a smart human being like me who values her money and loves her cheese, you'll discreetly drop that cheese back into the tote and then fill up the tote with the already rang up items. see, that way you can always claim that the cheese was with the other items on the band as well and that the cashier just might have not rang it up.
anyway, the unassuming cashier will ultimately present you with your total and you'll pay it and say goodbye, but not without displaying your most charming smile. which should come easily as you bask in the awareness that you just saved 2.40 euro and now got extra money to buy yourself some ice cream.
voila. who said leading a life of crime doesn't pay?
look for a rather crowded aisle so you need to leave your shopping cart behind as you approach the cheese shelf. select your cheese carefully and take it from the shelf.
then -and this is the important part- you need to lose concentration for a moment. i recommend to either yawn generously or to reflect on that cute boy you kissed the past weekend. whatever works for you. then just as this moment is about to pass, you'll thoughtlessly slip the cheese into your tote. and i recommend you're going to use a tote for the day of the planned crime, as this kind of bag usually has a pretty big opening. this movement should come very naturally for you as your shopping cart isn't at hand, remember?
then you'll just walk back to the shopping cart and continue loading it with food. (if you get baguette, grapes and a bottle of wine you could have a "french dinner" that night.)
and now the tricky part. the check-out. you'll place all the product on the band for the cashier to ring up. but not the cheese!
after about half of your stuff is rang up, you'll carefully open your tote to take out some cotton bags. and then of course, you'll discover the cheese. you might have to practice a shocked facial expression at home in front of the mirror first, but for me spontaneity always works best. just, don't overdo it. you don't wanna attract the attention of your fellow shoppers or -even worse- the cashier. feign just enough, so that the security camera is able to register it. this is really important in case it comes to a court case about the stolen cheese.
now you've got two choices. a decent human being might take the cheese out of the tote, apologize to the cashier and then be arrested for shoplifting. but if you're a smart human being like me who values her money and loves her cheese, you'll discreetly drop that cheese back into the tote and then fill up the tote with the already rang up items. see, that way you can always claim that the cheese was with the other items on the band as well and that the cashier just might have not rang it up.
anyway, the unassuming cashier will ultimately present you with your total and you'll pay it and say goodbye, but not without displaying your most charming smile. which should come easily as you bask in the awareness that you just saved 2.40 euro and now got extra money to buy yourself some ice cream.
voila. who said leading a life of crime doesn't pay?
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
a reason to celebrate and get absolutely sloshed today
my two homes b-town and LA celebrate the 40-year anniversary of their glorious city partnership today. and i do think that many other relationships, especially between humans, could also get to that mark if they just stayed an ocean apart from each other. anyway, i decided to come up with a list of great things specific to each town. and as it's a very personally colored list, feel free to add your own stuff in the comments section!LA:
the hills and the ever-present opportunity to crawl up one of them and get an instant view of the mayhem beneath. the classier alternative for a view is from the observatory, of course. and the laziest of people can always take the elevator up to the top of the arclight cinema parking structure. but it doesn't really matter where you do it, but when. and the best time is between 6 and 8 pm when the lowering sun wraps the city into a golden light. never seen a light like that anywhere else. maybe it's filtered by the smog?
i'm also still rolling around in my bed every night panically shouting: joe... joe... where are you, joe? where's my beloved trader joe's? which is german-owned by the way and still nobody has ever complained of a german supermarket invading the american market. but even the most beautiful trader joe's couldn't compare to the hollywood farmers' market on selma and ivar. it's got fruit and veggies, cheese, cut flowers and handmade gift articles. the soundtrack is delivered by some jazz musicians. and the best of all is that it never stinks. no fishy smell or else. which could be caused by the absence of fresh fish on the market or maybe it's just all absorbed by the smog?
the fairfax farmer's market.
great sushi. everywhere. the breakfast quesadilla at backdoor cafe. the mishmosh at canter's. the burrito ultimo w/ shrimp at baja fresh. any ice cream at mashti malone's. the pad thai at natalee's. yum...
old movie theaters like the egyptian or the mann's chinese. in places like those you can always take the risk of a movie turning out to be boring. after all, you can always admire the amazing ceiling for two hours.
nightly pool parties.
the LA times, especially the sunday edition. it's not a paper. it's a book. it takes you two hours to dig through and i can't imagine a better way of relaxing. plus, it's got an amazing calender section, the steve lopez column and dear abby. which is probably the best place to learn about the pitfalls of being a human being.
also, i do miss Us Weekly. the german edition of In Touch just doesn't cut it.
forever 21. urban outfitter t-shirts.
the buzz of the oscar season. well, i pretty much lived on the red carpet for the past 5 years. so besides shaking my head about the campaigns and banging my head on the coffee table by the end of the show-marathon, i also got to see the physical build-up. first it's just the bleachers. they usually arrive ten day early. then they lay out the carpet and arrange the flowers. the big statues follow about five days before the show. this is usually also the time that you get really angry at nicole, reese and denzel for taking over your hood and causing you to miss the bus every morning due to not knowing where the bus station moved to. but all of that is forgotten by the sight of the TV reporters on the day of the show. all dressed up in tuxedos or glittery gowns - at 8am. and of course, as a resident of the area you pretty much have an all-access pass with security. "here's my ID, sir. see that? cherokee 1733... thank you and keep up the good work." if there was just something that could be done about the swarm of daily helicopters over the house. like the smog will devour them.
amoeba records. it's got cute boys. and of course, you feel automatically cool when you enter.
ucla. i had a teacher that had worked with marilyn, audrey and judy garland. can't top that. oh, wait. there was the other teacher that told us about liz taylor and how she would only show up on set every morning if she was given a gift. a purple git.
the movie history in general.
wasting countless hours, reading in the aisles of Borders.
sneaking into hotel pools. which of course is so much easier when you've got an accent. but let's talk openly here. i've had been swimming at the roosevelt hotel way before lindsay discovered it. actually i would add the roosevelt hotel here on the list, but it was so much cooler before they renovated it and put a pool table into the lobby. like greta garbo would approve of that...
non-judgmental people. when somebody in LA speaks about his dreams, he's actually encouraged to do so. nobody says: "you can't do that." of course, people might encourage and then crush that person later on. but that's another story.
target. ultimately the greatest thing about LA.
part 2 with my observations about b-town follows underneath.
more great stuff
a shout-out to LA from the berlin zoo. that means, you guys over there are only about 6460 miles away from knut...b-town:
ice cream at karademir. especially the sour cream-honey-sesame. lecker!
the in-LA-impossible-but-oh-so-encouraging sight of a rather mediocre-looking girl with a really good-looking boyfriend.
the public transportation is a dream. there's the subway, the street cars and the tram which is a cute small yellow train from the GDR era. and then there's the endless stream of double-decker busses. they truly never stop. (unless you're standing at the station at 1 am and hail corns as big as a small finger nail hit the ground to your left and right.) and then there's of course the soundtrack. it pretty much seems impossible to take the subway or else without being accompanied by the sound of a violin or accordion. it's all quite melancholy really.
it's flat, so it's great for riding bikes. though it's not so great for pedestrians that are run over by bikes.
being able to go grocery-shopping at supermarkets that i've been practically raised on. there's some sense of comfort in getting my food at lidl or kaufland again. i've been eating it through all of my childhood and teenage years, so i've established a level of trust in their products. which i will never have in campbell's soup or sara lee cake.
no smog.
there's knut, of course. enough has been said about him, but here's an update. he's still kinda fluffy though he weighs about 60 pounds by now. at least they estimate that as he apparently refuses to step on the scale. oh, those celebrities...
it's cheap.
beautiful churches. castles. buildings that are older than 100 years in general.
the libanese restaurant across the street from my apartment. not only is their food yummy, but actually they're originally from near my hometown. which begs the question if that makes me libanese?
the countless lakes and parks. the spree river with its many bridges. there are even real swans here. the only halfway living things floating on the LA river are probably people that have been killed and thrown in but aren't totally dead yet.
more ikea-stores than in LA.
the rich cultural life. the theaters. the museums (you know i do love them, just not their guards). the gorillas-improv group. the man that stands at the ku'damm street in front of the wertheim-department store and performs with a balcan-style violin player-puppet to the sounds of classical music. the boheme sauvage-20's parties. it's a good place for musicians. (apparently rufus wrainwright has found love here). the diverse bar and club scene. not having to go home at 2am.
surprisingly many great public pools and beach bars along the spree river. who needs the pacific?
karstadt department stores. to say it in the rather freely adapted words of truman capote:
when i get those horrible mean reds, the only thing that does any good is to jump onto the bus and go to karstadt. calms me down right away. the hustle and bustle and the commercial look of it, nothing very bad could ever happen to you there.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
ready for my close-up
another update on my still-so-hot extra career.
for the past few days i've been doing this cool short movie that's being shot at film school as part of an all-european project about human rights. and it's not only cool and carrying an important message, but it will actually be shown at the next berlin film festival. which as you might know is one of the top three film festivals in the world. i've also been logging a lot of hours in make-up every day, as it's set in the late 40's. and not only did i wear a lovely dress and elegant hairdo, but they even aged me. which made me feel like nicole kidman donning that prosthetic schnooz for "the hours". it's so important to be able to sacrifice one's good looks for the sake of art, right?
also, i could have done another student project these days. but i didn't feel like the script was up to my level. i'm sure you understand that i gotta be careful about my choices at such a crucial time in my career. and of course i don't wanna be over-exposed by filling the background in every freakin' picture. but you gotta admit, i totally rock the business these days. especially if you consider how hollywood has refused to acknowledge me for all these years. which i really didn't understand. well, there's been my participation as audience member in a simulated episode of "deal or no deal" for the nbc executives. and i've been in the booty parlor training video as a guest at a sex toy party (you understand my concern about choosing appropriate projects in the future). but i'm the first to admit that i only got that part because of my company connections rather than talent. on the other hand there was that teacher a few years back that remarked what a great adrian i had been when we re-enacted a scene from "rocky" in class to analyze it. and of course there was that japanese student that followed me into the restroom stall during the break of that same class to tell me "how great my face had looked within the frame". they must have seen something that nobody else did.
another major obstacle on my road to now inevitable stardom had of course been the vicious attack on 9/11. i don't wanna shout here "i'm a victim too!" (which of course i am but you also know i'm humble as hell). but just a few days prior to the attack i was discovered in the most classy way by one of my customers in a restaurant who had asked me if i wanted to participate in her final project at film school. the part had just a few lines, but i would have spoken them with my german accent. of course it never came to be as my impending break-through was ultimately stopped by al-kaida. the movie shoot was delayed another month and took place at a time i was visiting germany :(
so i do wonder, how long it's gonna take those fuckers in hollywood to realize what got away. of course, everything could have turned out differently if they had just seen that 10th grade high school project about violence in which i played the naughty girl who steals the purse of an old lady.
look at me with my 40's hairdo. don't you think i look like ingrid bergman?
for the past few days i've been doing this cool short movie that's being shot at film school as part of an all-european project about human rights. and it's not only cool and carrying an important message, but it will actually be shown at the next berlin film festival. which as you might know is one of the top three film festivals in the world. i've also been logging a lot of hours in make-up every day, as it's set in the late 40's. and not only did i wear a lovely dress and elegant hairdo, but they even aged me. which made me feel like nicole kidman donning that prosthetic schnooz for "the hours". it's so important to be able to sacrifice one's good looks for the sake of art, right?
also, i could have done another student project these days. but i didn't feel like the script was up to my level. i'm sure you understand that i gotta be careful about my choices at such a crucial time in my career. and of course i don't wanna be over-exposed by filling the background in every freakin' picture. but you gotta admit, i totally rock the business these days. especially if you consider how hollywood has refused to acknowledge me for all these years. which i really didn't understand. well, there's been my participation as audience member in a simulated episode of "deal or no deal" for the nbc executives. and i've been in the booty parlor training video as a guest at a sex toy party (you understand my concern about choosing appropriate projects in the future). but i'm the first to admit that i only got that part because of my company connections rather than talent. on the other hand there was that teacher a few years back that remarked what a great adrian i had been when we re-enacted a scene from "rocky" in class to analyze it. and of course there was that japanese student that followed me into the restroom stall during the break of that same class to tell me "how great my face had looked within the frame". they must have seen something that nobody else did.
another major obstacle on my road to now inevitable stardom had of course been the vicious attack on 9/11. i don't wanna shout here "i'm a victim too!" (which of course i am but you also know i'm humble as hell). but just a few days prior to the attack i was discovered in the most classy way by one of my customers in a restaurant who had asked me if i wanted to participate in her final project at film school. the part had just a few lines, but i would have spoken them with my german accent. of course it never came to be as my impending break-through was ultimately stopped by al-kaida. the movie shoot was delayed another month and took place at a time i was visiting germany :(
so i do wonder, how long it's gonna take those fuckers in hollywood to realize what got away. of course, everything could have turned out differently if they had just seen that 10th grade high school project about violence in which i played the naughty girl who steals the purse of an old lady.
look at me with my 40's hairdo. don't you think i look like ingrid bergman?
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
just a remark on the side... pretty redundant actually, but do feel free to read on
i think we all do agree on how awesome IKEA is, right?
but did you ever stand at the check-out with your new "furuhult" kitchen table or "leksvik" book shelf and realized that you might need to use the restroom pretty soon? and then of course you started to curse yourself for not going before you hit the store and filled that giant blue ikea bag with all kinds of stuff that you don't really need, but you took it anyway because it's cheap. and then you crossed your legs and paid your stuff and desperately hurried to the car to load it up and then you weren't so sure that you can still make it from the far end of the parking space back to the store and jumped into the car and drove off because you live just five minutes away anyway - just to be caught in traffic for another 20 minutes before you finally arrive at the safe harbor of your bathroom.
well, i've got good news. ikea not only has special restroom stalls for kids - which is already pretty amazing - but they apparently also designed their stalls to fit peoples' new furniture as well. i didn't actually do any studies yet on how much you could take in there and still comfortably pee and i seriously doubt that my "pax brevik" closet would fit. but i know for sure that that stall can hold
1 34x34 "lack" table
1 20x20 "lack" table
1 12x12 "agen" wicker basket
1 "dokument" paper holder
1 "alarm" alarm clock
1 "debut" candle holder
besides my purse and another full shopping bag. pretty impressive, huh?
and it's not that this is super-important or will save the world. but it does make the world a slightly better place to know that there are companies out there that are not only out for your money, but also treat you like human beings. including accommodating your needs. like peeing with an armload of furniture.
but did you ever stand at the check-out with your new "furuhult" kitchen table or "leksvik" book shelf and realized that you might need to use the restroom pretty soon? and then of course you started to curse yourself for not going before you hit the store and filled that giant blue ikea bag with all kinds of stuff that you don't really need, but you took it anyway because it's cheap. and then you crossed your legs and paid your stuff and desperately hurried to the car to load it up and then you weren't so sure that you can still make it from the far end of the parking space back to the store and jumped into the car and drove off because you live just five minutes away anyway - just to be caught in traffic for another 20 minutes before you finally arrive at the safe harbor of your bathroom.
well, i've got good news. ikea not only has special restroom stalls for kids - which is already pretty amazing - but they apparently also designed their stalls to fit peoples' new furniture as well. i didn't actually do any studies yet on how much you could take in there and still comfortably pee and i seriously doubt that my "pax brevik" closet would fit. but i know for sure that that stall can hold
1 34x34 "lack" table
1 20x20 "lack" table
1 12x12 "agen" wicker basket
1 "dokument" paper holder
1 "alarm" alarm clock
1 "debut" candle holder
besides my purse and another full shopping bag. pretty impressive, huh?
and it's not that this is super-important or will save the world. but it does make the world a slightly better place to know that there are companies out there that are not only out for your money, but also treat you like human beings. including accommodating your needs. like peeing with an armload of furniture.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
in summer the typical berliner loves to go for a dive
btw, this is a skeleton in an aquarium. but you saw that, right?
Thursday, June 14, 2007
meryl, watch out ! AKA update on my rapidly rising extra career
i'm so totally freakin' hot.
and it's not only because it's been 90 degrees in b-town for weeks and humid as in the jungle. no, last night my career as an extra was marked by an important breakthrough. remember my post from april "side notes on my small screen debut"? it's only been six weeks that i had my first part in a german daily soap. and i didn't even get to ride a bike like the other more experienced extras.
but yesterday everything changed. first of all, i got hired for a real movie. big screen. it's a romantic comedy/musical (!). and it stars one of germany's hottest young female stars. and guess, who was chosen among all the extras to be the ueber-extra? the shoot was taking place in a restaurant. and while the other people had to be the restaurant guests and can call themselves lucky if more than the back of their head is noticeable in the movie, i got the part of the waitress. guess, five years of international serving experience finally paid off. i was the one serving the food to the two lead characters as they were having their first date. and i was good. as my hands were shaking when i set down their plates of pasta aioli (garlic on a first date? i bet that screenwriter is single.), it totally fit into the awkward mood of the date. you could actually say that i melted into the scene's atmosphere. and i know it's just the part of the waitress, but audrey hepburn's career started with a cameo as cigarette girl.
and the best of all was that i even got the whole make-up deal. and not only did i get that, but i actually got to share my time in the make-up trailer with the female star of the movie. and she and the male lead totally acknowledged me, eye contact and smile and all. and as if that wasn't enough, one of germany's biggest actors dropped by the shoot to hang out with the director for a bit. and since this shoot was so special and i will always remember it as my big break, i also stole a totally cute sheep from the easter decoration of the restaurant. it was just perfect. though the other extras must have been pissed, uselessly sitting around and having absolutely nothing to play with. but it's a tough business and there are only so many winners and lots of losers. just that since yesterday i'm not one of them.
still, i don't want to get too ambitious yet. you know how important it is to stay humble and not lose the ground under your feet (or the contact to less interesting people like you guys). but on the other hand, the town is abuzz with talk about the new bryan singer picture starring tom cruise. and i've been stalking them for a job behind the camera without success (fuckers!). so now i'm hoping for a call from my agency for that. because, where else could i go up now but hollywood???
and it's not only because it's been 90 degrees in b-town for weeks and humid as in the jungle. no, last night my career as an extra was marked by an important breakthrough. remember my post from april "side notes on my small screen debut"? it's only been six weeks that i had my first part in a german daily soap. and i didn't even get to ride a bike like the other more experienced extras.
but yesterday everything changed. first of all, i got hired for a real movie. big screen. it's a romantic comedy/musical (!). and it stars one of germany's hottest young female stars. and guess, who was chosen among all the extras to be the ueber-extra? the shoot was taking place in a restaurant. and while the other people had to be the restaurant guests and can call themselves lucky if more than the back of their head is noticeable in the movie, i got the part of the waitress. guess, five years of international serving experience finally paid off. i was the one serving the food to the two lead characters as they were having their first date. and i was good. as my hands were shaking when i set down their plates of pasta aioli (garlic on a first date? i bet that screenwriter is single.), it totally fit into the awkward mood of the date. you could actually say that i melted into the scene's atmosphere. and i know it's just the part of the waitress, but audrey hepburn's career started with a cameo as cigarette girl.
and the best of all was that i even got the whole make-up deal. and not only did i get that, but i actually got to share my time in the make-up trailer with the female star of the movie. and she and the male lead totally acknowledged me, eye contact and smile and all. and as if that wasn't enough, one of germany's biggest actors dropped by the shoot to hang out with the director for a bit. and since this shoot was so special and i will always remember it as my big break, i also stole a totally cute sheep from the easter decoration of the restaurant. it was just perfect. though the other extras must have been pissed, uselessly sitting around and having absolutely nothing to play with. but it's a tough business and there are only so many winners and lots of losers. just that since yesterday i'm not one of them.
still, i don't want to get too ambitious yet. you know how important it is to stay humble and not lose the ground under your feet (or the contact to less interesting people like you guys). but on the other hand, the town is abuzz with talk about the new bryan singer picture starring tom cruise. and i've been stalking them for a job behind the camera without success (fuckers!). so now i'm hoping for a call from my agency for that. because, where else could i go up now but hollywood???
Sunday, June 10, 2007
hanging with the old fritz
the old fritz would be king frederick the great. of course he's already bitten the dust a long time ago. but that's essentially a good thing as i got to visit his old haunt of sanssouci last week and i'm pretty sure i wouldn't have gotten that far during his lifetime.
apparently sanssouci is considered one of the 1000 places to see before you die. at least i once read so. thus i had been pretty excited and must admit that my first impression was rather subdued. with my memory of visiting versailles fifteen years ago still vivid, i discreetly turned up my nose at sanssouci's size at first. it's just got twelve rooms. this proletarian princess grew up in a house of thirteen rooms (plus one closet and a guest wc).
and then i stepped inside. where i was promptly informed that this had of course only been fritz' weekend getaway. ah. actually he resided in another castle on the grounds. with 200 rooms. oh. and then i stepped further inside and... ooh...aah... is that real gold all over the room? ooh... aah.
i got to see the room that voltaire used to chill out in. apparently he and fritz were pretty close chums. and then there was the library with its more than 2000 books. and then there was the music room where fritz used to play his flute all day long. no pun intended. although it is to note that the castle doesn't include any rooms for mrs. fritz. after all, sanssouci means "without worries". makes one wonder if fritz might have been the original creator of "no woman no cry". ultimately i found no info on that, though i found a pop art portrait of fritz by andy warhol.
now this all seemed pretty suspicious to me. hanging out with voltaire all the time instead of the mrs., the warhol worshipping, his love of music and gardening. so upon the return to my very middle class 5-room-digs, i looked him up and got confirmation that he was indeed a homosexual. which also explains all that glittery room deco. also, he never wanted to be king and even tried to run off on a regular basis - sometimes in male company. desperate measures which his dad countered with sending the poor chap to prison. ah, the good old prussian discipline. also for sure is that it was fritz who was responsible for cultivating potatoes in germany. which causes my compatriots to lay down the lovely earth apples on his grave site.
but back to my visit. while wandering through the park, i eventually came upon two buildings that i couldn't identify at first. they seemed to be two smaller castles and i supposed that they were separate ball rooms or something like that. but one look at my map of the grounds and i learned that those were the staff quarters. which was the final blow. i admit sanssouci is impressive and the old fritz seems to have been a rather cool dude too. even though he probably never would have socialized with me.
one down. 999 places to go.
some side notes about my own humble or not so humble origins:
my dad's side of the family owns a family crest and apparently a castle somewhere in switzerland too. though i don't know how many rooms it's got. but it sounds pretty good, right? especially if you consider that my mom's family consists mostly of coal miners.
so recently my dad claimed that his family were wealthy land owners who apparently left switzerland for germany 250 years ago because of the decline in moral standards (!). i decided to do some research on that and it didn't take me long to dig up some of my ancestry online. and the emphasis here is on "digging up". instead of land owners, my ancestors' occupation was commonly described as field workers. the old fritz would not have been amused.
Monday, June 4, 2007
the fate of ernie
ernie was one of my most beloved childhood toys. and he wasn't just one of those very common ernie dolls. mine actually wore real jeans, had a dense head full of fuzzy hair and cool converse-like sneakers on. and then one day, he was gone.
it happened around the time i was about ten years old and my interest shifted from stuffed male buddies to the un-stuffed kind. his departure came suddenly and at the hands of my evil mom. at that time, the family living next to us had relatives living in the GDR. and when my brother and i had outgrown certain clothes or toys, my mom would give them to the neighbors so they could send them to their relatives. and so in one of those really cruel turns in life, one day i discovered that ernie was gone - sent to live with the communists! sure you can imagine that i was sick with worry at the thought of my beloved ernie falling into the clutches of an eastern regime.
my mom actually tried to make up for it by giving me an "ersatz" ernie for my 18th birthday. but he wasn't nearly as cool as the original one and the pain was still too big as that i could ever develop any deep feelings for this one. the closest i actually came to the original one again, was when my family vacationed near the border to the GDR very shortly before the wall came down. i still remember the high fence with the mine field and shooting towers behind (and i still remember my mom panically shouting: don't touch the fence!). there i was, sad-eyed and longing for my buddy on the other side. at that point i wasn't even sure if he was still alive or - being a symbol of a liberal western childhood - he had been confiscated by the greater powers.
so now after all those years, i finally decided to get some closure. i went on a valiant mission to look for ernie in berlin. this also led me to the GDR museum where one can look at all kinds of objects once used by the people "over there". in fact, the museum consists of cabinets in the form of plattenbau buildings that you can open up and inside you'll find stuff related to a certain area of eastern life. so there i was, standing at the childhood-themed plattenbau. my hands trembling, i opened it only to find some schlumpy teddy bear who had certainly seen better days. but no trace of my beloved ernie. i finally left, resigned to the uncomfortable truth that i might never get a confirmation on ernie's fate.
but then just a few days ago it happened. i had been on my way to my favorite ice cream parlor when i passed by a funky clothing store and suddenly spotted ernie in the shopping window. he was sitting on top of a wooden box among the clothing on display. and not only was he apparently making his living in a decent manner, but he looked as good as he ever had. no signs of torture or broken arms. and not only that, but i was truly comforted by the knowledge that he actually lives in my neighborhood.
and a long life he may have!
it happened around the time i was about ten years old and my interest shifted from stuffed male buddies to the un-stuffed kind. his departure came suddenly and at the hands of my evil mom. at that time, the family living next to us had relatives living in the GDR. and when my brother and i had outgrown certain clothes or toys, my mom would give them to the neighbors so they could send them to their relatives. and so in one of those really cruel turns in life, one day i discovered that ernie was gone - sent to live with the communists! sure you can imagine that i was sick with worry at the thought of my beloved ernie falling into the clutches of an eastern regime.
my mom actually tried to make up for it by giving me an "ersatz" ernie for my 18th birthday. but he wasn't nearly as cool as the original one and the pain was still too big as that i could ever develop any deep feelings for this one. the closest i actually came to the original one again, was when my family vacationed near the border to the GDR very shortly before the wall came down. i still remember the high fence with the mine field and shooting towers behind (and i still remember my mom panically shouting: don't touch the fence!). there i was, sad-eyed and longing for my buddy on the other side. at that point i wasn't even sure if he was still alive or - being a symbol of a liberal western childhood - he had been confiscated by the greater powers.
so now after all those years, i finally decided to get some closure. i went on a valiant mission to look for ernie in berlin. this also led me to the GDR museum where one can look at all kinds of objects once used by the people "over there". in fact, the museum consists of cabinets in the form of plattenbau buildings that you can open up and inside you'll find stuff related to a certain area of eastern life. so there i was, standing at the childhood-themed plattenbau. my hands trembling, i opened it only to find some schlumpy teddy bear who had certainly seen better days. but no trace of my beloved ernie. i finally left, resigned to the uncomfortable truth that i might never get a confirmation on ernie's fate.
but then just a few days ago it happened. i had been on my way to my favorite ice cream parlor when i passed by a funky clothing store and suddenly spotted ernie in the shopping window. he was sitting on top of a wooden box among the clothing on display. and not only was he apparently making his living in a decent manner, but he looked as good as he ever had. no signs of torture or broken arms. and not only that, but i was truly comforted by the knowledge that he actually lives in my neighborhood.
and a long life he may have!
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
geographic truths
recently i've come upon a street sign in my neighborhood which was titled "manteuffelstrasse". roughly translated this means " street of the man-devil". not only did i think it was kinda cool to have a street warn you of the facts of life, but i also had gotten inspired to look for more of these geographical truths here in b-town. unfortunately i didn't find anything else.
the street where i'm living is called "rich hill street" and all people i see outside my window seem to be either unemployed, poor students or turkish families of 7. and the district where i'm living is called "cross hill". there's also a "prenzlau hill", a "beautiful hill" and a "hill of lights". they all sound pretty, but berlin is as flat as it gets. absolutely no hill in sight. actually there's one, the "devil's hill". but technically speaking it's just a mountain of rubble from WWII. i didn't fare any better with the "tiergarten" district, where one should find a "garden of animals". i've been there, but all i've seen in the park was a man who was jerking off behind a bush :( though one could say, that he showed some animalistic behavior. which brings me back to the man-devil...
note:
the picture up there shows the "paris square" with the brandenburg gate - which features lots of japanese tourists besides a huge starbucks and the jfk museum. and then there's the story of napoleon trying to steal the triaga on top of the gate... not so appropriate, huh?
Friday, May 25, 2007
television is your friend - and itunes even more
at least they're mine. i know people that don't even have a tv these days. but to me it's a warm and fuzzy feeling to know i can tune in each week to see what "house" or all those con artists on "lost" are up to. especially when you've recently moved and it's taking a while to make contact to real human beings. which in germany are really just as mean as "house" or "the others". but its exactly this tv dependence which puts me in a weird spot this week. season finales are upon me. which means only ca. 250 days until lost returns in february 08 (banging my head against the wall here). and my "house" dates won't resume until september neither :(
so to keep myself entertained this summer, i've gotten all nostalgic and started rewatching "beverly hills 90210" online. this show debuted when i was about 13 and i'm not embarrassed to say that i religiously watched it until the bitter end. yes, i was there when dylan's mob dad got killed, when brandon almost slept with andrea zuckerman (twice!) and when kelly became addicted to diet pills, got shot, joined a cult, almost died in a fire, lost her baby and got raped (twice!). and not only am i rediscovering this old favorite of mine, but i'm also improving my swedish language skills as well. you see, the online episodes have gotten swedish subtitles and i only recently learned such important vocabulary like "har du skyd?" which means "do you have a condom?" and which you'll probably not find in any language-course book and which -as everyone knows- is really a cornerstone of every swedish conversation.
and there they always say that tv isn't good for you. apparently it's not supposed to engage your brain in an intellectual way. yeah, right! you people out there without tv, just go ahead and read books! but by the end of this summer it will be ME who is able to know how to speak swedish. and if i run out of 90210-episodes , i'll just go and re-watch "lost" for the 23rd time...
thanks god for itunes.
so to keep myself entertained this summer, i've gotten all nostalgic and started rewatching "beverly hills 90210" online. this show debuted when i was about 13 and i'm not embarrassed to say that i religiously watched it until the bitter end. yes, i was there when dylan's mob dad got killed, when brandon almost slept with andrea zuckerman (twice!) and when kelly became addicted to diet pills, got shot, joined a cult, almost died in a fire, lost her baby and got raped (twice!). and not only am i rediscovering this old favorite of mine, but i'm also improving my swedish language skills as well. you see, the online episodes have gotten swedish subtitles and i only recently learned such important vocabulary like "har du skyd?" which means "do you have a condom?" and which you'll probably not find in any language-course book and which -as everyone knows- is really a cornerstone of every swedish conversation.
and there they always say that tv isn't good for you. apparently it's not supposed to engage your brain in an intellectual way. yeah, right! you people out there without tv, just go ahead and read books! but by the end of this summer it will be ME who is able to know how to speak swedish. and if i run out of 90210-episodes , i'll just go and re-watch "lost" for the 23rd time...
thanks god for itunes.
Monday, May 21, 2007
charleston or something like it
about once a month the so-called "society for glamorous entertainment" invites nostalgic berliners to their "boheme sauvage". and so last saturday night my 20's alter ego lotte blumberg (a 17-year-old, still unspoiled department store model) dolled up and made her golden age debut in company of her rich and influential heiress friend kara wittgenstein. the joint where the entertainment took place consisted of two rooms. one a swanky salon where swing, gypsy, tango and balkan brass were played among others and the conferencier coco warmed up the crowd with tap dancing before a charleston lesson took place. which was quite the bee's knees - and dangerous because of all the kick steps. the spiffy crowd willingly stepped up to the dress code of strictly bohèmian, burlesque, cabaret, cancan, dandy, decadent, diva, gigolo, glamour, mafiosi, moulin rouge, variéte and vaudeville and displayed the best of manners. and besides many big cheese society members the wide-eyed lotte even spotted sherlock holmes out on a nightly prowl, though he did keep to himself most of the time.
the second room proved much darker and was clouded by the heavy smoke of ciggys. here in the casino the crowd indulged in poker, black jack and absinthe. when lotte had entered the venue, she was handed 60 million reichsmark with the invitation to increase the fortune through gambling, blackmail or other deals. but the naive girl lost half the amount right away to the monsieur in the "separee du spiritisme" who's tarot card reading announced that -beware the heebie jeebies- her next daddy will be a brillant, intellectual man without a back bone. which seems to be exactly the kind of sap, poor lotte has always been goofy about. applesauce! to make matters even worse, lotte then gambled away the rest of her fortune at the roulette table by two am. fortunately her benefactor kara wittgenstein stepped in to provide her with further means which lotte eventually lost too. when she emerged back into the salon at five am, the hoofers were still going at it although the sun was already shining through the windows.
lotte finally went home by train with the other owls, happy about what a swell night it had been. now, let's hope nobody finds out about her shenanigans, so she can have a whopee when the next "boheme sauvage" rolls around...
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
poor baby is sick
lately i've not been feeling too well.
in fact, i'm all bored, everyday life seems totally bleak and i seem to be constantly bothered by a lack of superficiality in my life. i think i'm missing LA. this has gone on for a while now and so i finally went to see a doctor. five minutes in his office and he confirmed that i had a serious case of "missiotitis US weeklyosis". (i should be a patient on HOUSE!). but the doc told me not to worry and gave me a prescription for "defamer" and "the superficial" although i was warned that there are high risks of getting addicted to them.
include me in your prayers during these tough times.
in fact, i'm all bored, everyday life seems totally bleak and i seem to be constantly bothered by a lack of superficiality in my life. i think i'm missing LA. this has gone on for a while now and so i finally went to see a doctor. five minutes in his office and he confirmed that i had a serious case of "missiotitis US weeklyosis". (i should be a patient on HOUSE!). but the doc told me not to worry and gave me a prescription for "defamer" and "the superficial" although i was warned that there are high risks of getting addicted to them.
include me in your prayers during these tough times.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
what are german people actually really like?
recently i've picked up a book that has been staying in the german bestseller charts ever since it came out in 2005. it's called "der dativ ist dem genitiv sein tod" ("the dative is the genitive its death") and deals with the difficulties and dangers of the german language. i tried to find out more about the subject by googling which ultimately led me to a web page that answers the question of what german people are really like. in fact, it invites people all over the world to send in their many perceptions about me and my landsleute. and since i see this blog among other things as a tool to inform the often unknowing US public, i will share this wealth of knowledge with you.
disclaimer:
the descriptions of german people below are entirely the views of an international public and represent neither my viewpoint nor the one of my compatriots.
here we go:
german people descend from apes
german people descend from farmers and artisans
german people don't wash their cars on sundays and never use toilets after dark
german women wear pigtails, have facial hair and mens' bodies
german men are bald and sport big moustaches
german people are efficient in organizing foreigners' funerals
german people are like dutch people, there are just more of them
german people are like british people, but have better teeth and sailboats
german people are physically and mentally superior to british people
german people are wimpy, surrendering monkeys (probably the view of a british person)
german people tan easily and are heavily taxed
german people love tidiness, recycling and oompah music
german people eat beige food and smell of sausages
german people are bony and stiff
german people are wild and sexy (oh, ja!)
german grandmas are always drunk
german women are amazing in bed, but controlling
german people wear lederhosen & alpine hats and are generally fat
german people tell fat people that they're fat
german construction workers are always trying to kill people
german people are doomed
please feel free to add your perception of german people in the comment section. dankeschoen!
disclaimer:
the descriptions of german people below are entirely the views of an international public and represent neither my viewpoint nor the one of my compatriots.
here we go:
german people descend from apes
german people descend from farmers and artisans
german people don't wash their cars on sundays and never use toilets after dark
german women wear pigtails, have facial hair and mens' bodies
german men are bald and sport big moustaches
german people are efficient in organizing foreigners' funerals
german people are like dutch people, there are just more of them
german people are like british people, but have better teeth and sailboats
german people are physically and mentally superior to british people
german people are wimpy, surrendering monkeys (probably the view of a british person)
german people tan easily and are heavily taxed
german people love tidiness, recycling and oompah music
german people eat beige food and smell of sausages
german people are bony and stiff
german people are wild and sexy (oh, ja!)
german grandmas are always drunk
german women are amazing in bed, but controlling
german people wear lederhosen & alpine hats and are generally fat
german people tell fat people that they're fat
german construction workers are always trying to kill people
german people are doomed
please feel free to add your perception of german people in the comment section. dankeschoen!
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
see, germans are nice!
i've already mentioned the cute way germans create screenplays. and now after i gave my small screen debut last week, i've got further proof that germans are actually pretty nice people.
for years while i was in the US, i was watching WW II movies in which every single german character seemed to have a grim face and was generally shouting. which strongly supports the notion that germans are ugly people speaking an ugly language. but i don't think that's true at all. we might only smile once a month, first answer with a stern "no" to everything we're asked for and -grinding teeth- have a slight tendency to invade other countries, but you can't say that we haven't gotten any manners.
take this. in the american movie industry it is standard for the director to shout "action" to start shooting. but in germany the director calls "bitte" which means "please". and he's not shouting at all, he says it in an almost pleading manner. when i was working as an extra last friday, i needed about an hour to even figure out who the director was since he was all buried behind his monitor like a little mouse. so, what about that authoritative "action" in the US if you can also accomplish the work with a polite "please"? i mean, why make the effort to be polite in all other areas of life, when we treat actors and film crew like cattle?
for years while i was in the US, i was watching WW II movies in which every single german character seemed to have a grim face and was generally shouting. which strongly supports the notion that germans are ugly people speaking an ugly language. but i don't think that's true at all. we might only smile once a month, first answer with a stern "no" to everything we're asked for and -grinding teeth- have a slight tendency to invade other countries, but you can't say that we haven't gotten any manners.
take this. in the american movie industry it is standard for the director to shout "action" to start shooting. but in germany the director calls "bitte" which means "please". and he's not shouting at all, he says it in an almost pleading manner. when i was working as an extra last friday, i needed about an hour to even figure out who the director was since he was all buried behind his monitor like a little mouse. so, what about that authoritative "action" in the US if you can also accomplish the work with a polite "please"? i mean, why make the effort to be polite in all other areas of life, when we treat actors and film crew like cattle?
side notes about my small screen debut
and i emphasize "small screen" here since i only did a tv show. this was made painfully clear to me by the other extras who all had done movies already. one of them was even in "the lives of others".
"you know, the one that won an oscar!"
i tried to counter that with my hollywood experience which solely consists of being an extra in "deal or no deal" but was immediately defeated with
"and i've done the bourne supremacy".
one can't argue with that. i tried to make up for my lacking experience by acting extra-affectionately towards the empty baby carriage i was given to work with. that was the only prop i was given, while the other more experienced extras got to ride bicycles. well, maybe next time...
on the other hand, i got to take part in an action scene. if that's what you would call a scene in which a hunky young man is chasing a clown (!) down the street...
"you know, the one that won an oscar!"
i tried to counter that with my hollywood experience which solely consists of being an extra in "deal or no deal" but was immediately defeated with
"and i've done the bourne supremacy".
one can't argue with that. i tried to make up for my lacking experience by acting extra-affectionately towards the empty baby carriage i was given to work with. that was the only prop i was given, while the other more experienced extras got to ride bicycles. well, maybe next time...
on the other hand, i got to take part in an action scene. if that's what you would call a scene in which a hunky young man is chasing a clown (!) down the street...
Thursday, April 26, 2007
i'm going to be a mom
now, pick yourself up the floor and read on.
earlier this week, i was chosen to be an extra in the german version of "ugly betty". and since i'm not the lead, that means i'm attractive, right? and actually i'm not going to have a baby, just the empty carriage that i will have to push around in the background of a scene. which pretty much will make me look like some crazy woman who's going out to steal babies from strangers. but an attractive crazy woman. anyway, it's shooting tomorrow afternoon. so mark it on your calendar and count the days until you'll see me at the emmys :)
earlier this week, i was chosen to be an extra in the german version of "ugly betty". and since i'm not the lead, that means i'm attractive, right? and actually i'm not going to have a baby, just the empty carriage that i will have to push around in the background of a scene. which pretty much will make me look like some crazy woman who's going out to steal babies from strangers. but an attractive crazy woman. anyway, it's shooting tomorrow afternoon. so mark it on your calendar and count the days until you'll see me at the emmys :)
Monday, April 23, 2007
perfecting the craft
germans are known all over the world for craftsmanship. but i gotta say that the german screenwriters are definitely taking it to the next level. when i recently translated a screenwriting student's script, the issue of formatting came up and she mentioned that they're being taught at film school to decorate their works with pictures or tissue that give off the feel of the story. which is actually quite a nice idea.
nowadays so many LA screenwriters are disillusioned by the development process, when the producers and director come in and turn their "little miss sunshine" into a 120 million $ bonanza with an alien on board of the VW bus which wont be a VW bus anymore, but a pink hummer instead which then threatens to be blown up at the end of the second act if it wasn't for the chubby little girl who now won't be so chubby anymore since that's a bad role model for kids out there who then will save her family by finally releasing her mutant super powers.
so the idea of giving the screenwriter something to be creative about and call their own and above all stay distracted while other people disfigure their work, should be seriously taken into consideration in hollywood. there can also be no doubt about the heightened artistic merits of a "lord of the rings"-script adorned with hairy hobbit feet.
the only problem i see, is that you can get so easily indulgent with it. i mean, wouldn't have billy wilder gotten a little suspicious of the writer, had he gotten the script for "the lost weekend" with alcohol stains all over the pages? and worse, if james cameron had soaked his "titanic"-script completely in water, nobody would even have been able to read the dialogue - which actually might not have been such a bad thing after all. but i especially see trouble ahead for the young wannabe screenwriter who lines up his holocaust-script with miniature swastikas. NOT GOOD :(
so while i think there's definitely potential there, it might not be a bad idea to keep an eye on the writer's doing. just in case he gets too creative. or even better to just let the director or producers do the handiworks.
nowadays so many LA screenwriters are disillusioned by the development process, when the producers and director come in and turn their "little miss sunshine" into a 120 million $ bonanza with an alien on board of the VW bus which wont be a VW bus anymore, but a pink hummer instead which then threatens to be blown up at the end of the second act if it wasn't for the chubby little girl who now won't be so chubby anymore since that's a bad role model for kids out there who then will save her family by finally releasing her mutant super powers.
so the idea of giving the screenwriter something to be creative about and call their own and above all stay distracted while other people disfigure their work, should be seriously taken into consideration in hollywood. there can also be no doubt about the heightened artistic merits of a "lord of the rings"-script adorned with hairy hobbit feet.
the only problem i see, is that you can get so easily indulgent with it. i mean, wouldn't have billy wilder gotten a little suspicious of the writer, had he gotten the script for "the lost weekend" with alcohol stains all over the pages? and worse, if james cameron had soaked his "titanic"-script completely in water, nobody would even have been able to read the dialogue - which actually might not have been such a bad thing after all. but i especially see trouble ahead for the young wannabe screenwriter who lines up his holocaust-script with miniature swastikas. NOT GOOD :(
so while i think there's definitely potential there, it might not be a bad idea to keep an eye on the writer's doing. just in case he gets too creative. or even better to just let the director or producers do the handiworks.
Friday, April 20, 2007
still misbehavin' in b-town
if you're an avid reader of this blog, then you might have noticed that i've got quite a talent for acting offensively in the face of authority. if you're not an avid reader of this blog, then you're above all a lazy bastard and should read up the posts "nefertiti rocks" and "airport rebel in the poorhouse" first before proceeding further with this post.
anyway, i continued my museum tour of b-town yesterday by visiting the "gemaeldegalerie" which translated means "gallery of paintings". it's got the old stuff, tizian, rubens, raffael etc. and it's quite an interesting place. in one room they even explain the history of one of their paintings by showing the unrestored version, x-rays that reveal changes in the original concept of the painter and how they fixed the damages the picture endured over the years. and of course you can see the restored version too and it's really quite cool.
but of course i've had another clash with my friends, the museum guards :( since it was quite warm, i took off my jacket and carried it over my arm. which was a problem as the guard told me that i couldn't do that. i was only allowed to tie the jacket around my waist (huh?). anyway, i readily complied - only to commit my next crime a moment later. see, there were lines on the museum floor to keep people at least half a yard away from the paintings. and one of my feet must have accidentally overstepped that line which is essentially the fault of my converse sneakers as they're actually a size too big. so i might not have noticed that my foot stuck into the forbidden area by an inch or two. but the guard noticed right away and jumped and yelled at me as if i had just made an attempt to destroy the museum.
now i've been to the getty center, lacma, british museum and probably two dozen others and i've never ever had problems like that before. and i'm actually planing to go to the louvre or prado this year which now starts to worry me. maybe i'm not ready for the big ones yet? is there maybe a class which i could take to learn the proper museum etiquette?
anyway, i've seen some pretty cool pieces of art there and i elaborate on them in the post below which carries the title "ancient art, interpreted by me" which should actually be a warning in itself. still, enjoy!
anyway, i continued my museum tour of b-town yesterday by visiting the "gemaeldegalerie" which translated means "gallery of paintings". it's got the old stuff, tizian, rubens, raffael etc. and it's quite an interesting place. in one room they even explain the history of one of their paintings by showing the unrestored version, x-rays that reveal changes in the original concept of the painter and how they fixed the damages the picture endured over the years. and of course you can see the restored version too and it's really quite cool.
but of course i've had another clash with my friends, the museum guards :( since it was quite warm, i took off my jacket and carried it over my arm. which was a problem as the guard told me that i couldn't do that. i was only allowed to tie the jacket around my waist (huh?). anyway, i readily complied - only to commit my next crime a moment later. see, there were lines on the museum floor to keep people at least half a yard away from the paintings. and one of my feet must have accidentally overstepped that line which is essentially the fault of my converse sneakers as they're actually a size too big. so i might not have noticed that my foot stuck into the forbidden area by an inch or two. but the guard noticed right away and jumped and yelled at me as if i had just made an attempt to destroy the museum.
now i've been to the getty center, lacma, british museum and probably two dozen others and i've never ever had problems like that before. and i'm actually planing to go to the louvre or prado this year which now starts to worry me. maybe i'm not ready for the big ones yet? is there maybe a class which i could take to learn the proper museum etiquette?
anyway, i've seen some pretty cool pieces of art there and i elaborate on them in the post below which carries the title "ancient art, interpreted by me" which should actually be a warning in itself. still, enjoy!
ancient art, interpreted by me
well, i gotta say that the pic with the most entertainment value was brueghel's "dutch proverbs". i think it contains over hundred of them and they even had an illustrated board underneath with pointers and explanations. good job, pieter!
another painting that stood out was one of neptune basically being naked, save for a giant shell stuck over his thingie. though i can't quite remember who painted it - or maybe i just forgot to look.
there was also a cool painting that depicted "the ascension of jesus". it basically consisted of a bunch of people praying and looking towards the sky in an adoring manner. and then right in the middle on the top, there was just a pair of big feet. i swear. i guess the rest of jesus had already ascended. it kinda reminded me of that four-toed foot statue in LOST of which nobody knows what it is. but furthermore, it begged the question if the painter started the painting at the bottom and then simply got the proportions wrong or if he had some kind of foot fetish? or maybe he was just being cheeky?
anyway, there were some pieces that i wasn't too impressed with. most of all rembrandt's. his stuff just looked so - brown? i suppose he didn't have the dineros for some bright reds or greens or maybe he just got all the brown paint for a good deal? on the other hand there was somebody who had painted a version of "the last supper" with jesus and his fellas wearing bright, tie-dyed clothes. and combined with their long hair, beards and sandals they looked like a bunch of hippies.
i also had my problems with jan vermeer's "the glass of wine". it depicts a young man holding a bottle of wine and next to him a young girl, her face buried in a large glass of the good stuff. now at first glance, it looked totally innocent. but when i started to closely observe the guy's facial expression, the pic suddenly screamed "date-rape in the making" to me. highly questionable art, if you ask me.
but there you can see, it's not so easy to paint and get it right. high art is difficult, even for dudes like rembrandt and vermeer.
another painting that stood out was one of neptune basically being naked, save for a giant shell stuck over his thingie. though i can't quite remember who painted it - or maybe i just forgot to look.
there was also a cool painting that depicted "the ascension of jesus". it basically consisted of a bunch of people praying and looking towards the sky in an adoring manner. and then right in the middle on the top, there was just a pair of big feet. i swear. i guess the rest of jesus had already ascended. it kinda reminded me of that four-toed foot statue in LOST of which nobody knows what it is. but furthermore, it begged the question if the painter started the painting at the bottom and then simply got the proportions wrong or if he had some kind of foot fetish? or maybe he was just being cheeky?
anyway, there were some pieces that i wasn't too impressed with. most of all rembrandt's. his stuff just looked so - brown? i suppose he didn't have the dineros for some bright reds or greens or maybe he just got all the brown paint for a good deal? on the other hand there was somebody who had painted a version of "the last supper" with jesus and his fellas wearing bright, tie-dyed clothes. and combined with their long hair, beards and sandals they looked like a bunch of hippies.
i also had my problems with jan vermeer's "the glass of wine". it depicts a young man holding a bottle of wine and next to him a young girl, her face buried in a large glass of the good stuff. now at first glance, it looked totally innocent. but when i started to closely observe the guy's facial expression, the pic suddenly screamed "date-rape in the making" to me. highly questionable art, if you ask me.
but there you can see, it's not so easy to paint and get it right. high art is difficult, even for dudes like rembrandt and vermeer.
Monday, April 16, 2007
kissing the social loser (aka the teutonic dating style)
the social loser, that would be me. and i'm being all frank here. i've now spent more than three months in b-town and i still don't have any friends. sure, there are my roommates. but i figure they've got to be nice to me to ensure the proper payment of my rent. and my feeling of friendlessness has gotten only worse as i just realized that back in LA i've met a handful of people in just the first month, all of whom i still consider my friends seven years later. no, the problem in LA rather seemed to be that i couldn't get any dates. but here in b-town every time i meet a new friend, they just wanna snog. i guess germans find wallowing in self-pity sexy.
i base this especially on my experiences with two exemplars of the german male. the first one i met online when i was looking for apartments. it turned out that this guy had moved from LA to b-town just a few months prior to me. so we've met up to chat about our experiences over there. he then proceeded to take me to that party at "the big blue" (see post below) in order to introduce me to some of his friends - which he didn't do. instead he started snogging and i -desperate for a friend- snogged back, although it was just so-so. but desperate times ask for desperate measures. and desperate times they were, because already two days later i had to decline his invitation to go to the flea market due to earlier plans. nonetheless i offered to meet up with him another time. but alas, not going to the flea market must be a fatal blow to the german male' s psyche as i've never heard from him again.
then i met eye candy. eye candy was just that, but rather boring to talk to. but i figured he at least did talk to me unlike the rest of the b-town population (3.4 million after all). so i figured why not and started a friendship with him - and then he snogged me. and it wasn't just that, he actually gave me the kiss of death. literally and figurally, as i never heard from him again since and was lying in bed with a heavy flu for the following two weeks.
all of this has made me extremely hesitant to acquire another friend here. and just to clear things up, i had been very adamant of letting those blokes know that what i was looking for is a friend. actually now that i'm rethinking this, i wonder if they didn't find my self-pity sexy at all, but rather looked for a sure way to make me shut up.
i base this especially on my experiences with two exemplars of the german male. the first one i met online when i was looking for apartments. it turned out that this guy had moved from LA to b-town just a few months prior to me. so we've met up to chat about our experiences over there. he then proceeded to take me to that party at "the big blue" (see post below) in order to introduce me to some of his friends - which he didn't do. instead he started snogging and i -desperate for a friend- snogged back, although it was just so-so. but desperate times ask for desperate measures. and desperate times they were, because already two days later i had to decline his invitation to go to the flea market due to earlier plans. nonetheless i offered to meet up with him another time. but alas, not going to the flea market must be a fatal blow to the german male' s psyche as i've never heard from him again.
then i met eye candy. eye candy was just that, but rather boring to talk to. but i figured he at least did talk to me unlike the rest of the b-town population (3.4 million after all). so i figured why not and started a friendship with him - and then he snogged me. and it wasn't just that, he actually gave me the kiss of death. literally and figurally, as i never heard from him again since and was lying in bed with a heavy flu for the following two weeks.
all of this has made me extremely hesitant to acquire another friend here. and just to clear things up, i had been very adamant of letting those blokes know that what i was looking for is a friend. actually now that i'm rethinking this, i wonder if they didn't find my self-pity sexy at all, but rather looked for a sure way to make me shut up.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
gimme the coke!
i've recently read that jack nicholson was allowed to improvise part of his scenes for this year's best pic winner "the departed". and that one such scene was the one in which he throws a handful of coke over the naked bodies of some hookers.
you might now ask yourself why a wholesome girl like myself would bring this up in her so far squeaky-clean blog (check the most recent posting and go "aww"!). well, i think jack might like berlin. a few years ago when i left germany for LA, somebody told me "good luck in sodom!". turns out this person has probably never ventured outside of my provincial home town. in LA people are in bed by midnight (2.15am on the weekends), so they can rise at 6am the next day for their ashtanga yoga class. but here in b-town people go out earliest at midnight and most of them never even seem to hit their beds at all. which begs the question, how they can keep up a lifestyle like this.
well, let me reflect on my first night out here. it happened in late january when an acquaintance invited me out to a night at "the big blue" for its 5-year-anniversary. i happily agreed and it turned out to be a heck of a party. dozens of gorgeous people in gorgeous outfits shaking their booties to dance music which was actually quite bearable. i happily settled in a corner with my friend and watched the bartenders getting more and more undressed over the course of the night. that is, all of them but one. he actually was kinda naked already when i came. at least he wore a skin-colored bodysuit with a furry patch over his crotch and a zipper imitating his butt crack... but while i was soaking in the scenery, i could not help but notice that "the big blue" is actually tiny and orange. well, i guess all of that changes once you've gone through the big door to the left in the back to snort some coke! which to me answered a lot of questions about the party and b-town nightlife right there.
i didn't actually go through the door, but was offered some of the good stuff right there at the bar. guess, they thought i needed to loosen up or something. i happily declined and was promptly asked if i at least would join a bunch of people later at the kitkat-club (where liza did her aerobics in "cabaret"). but since my acquaintance had earlier told me that that club now functions as b-town's most famous swinger-club, i happily declined again. thought it was kinda flattering though.
nonetheless that night i opened my personal berlin snog-fest. but more about that in my next post.
you might now ask yourself why a wholesome girl like myself would bring this up in her so far squeaky-clean blog (check the most recent posting and go "aww"!). well, i think jack might like berlin. a few years ago when i left germany for LA, somebody told me "good luck in sodom!". turns out this person has probably never ventured outside of my provincial home town. in LA people are in bed by midnight (2.15am on the weekends), so they can rise at 6am the next day for their ashtanga yoga class. but here in b-town people go out earliest at midnight and most of them never even seem to hit their beds at all. which begs the question, how they can keep up a lifestyle like this.
well, let me reflect on my first night out here. it happened in late january when an acquaintance invited me out to a night at "the big blue" for its 5-year-anniversary. i happily agreed and it turned out to be a heck of a party. dozens of gorgeous people in gorgeous outfits shaking their booties to dance music which was actually quite bearable. i happily settled in a corner with my friend and watched the bartenders getting more and more undressed over the course of the night. that is, all of them but one. he actually was kinda naked already when i came. at least he wore a skin-colored bodysuit with a furry patch over his crotch and a zipper imitating his butt crack... but while i was soaking in the scenery, i could not help but notice that "the big blue" is actually tiny and orange. well, i guess all of that changes once you've gone through the big door to the left in the back to snort some coke! which to me answered a lot of questions about the party and b-town nightlife right there.
i didn't actually go through the door, but was offered some of the good stuff right there at the bar. guess, they thought i needed to loosen up or something. i happily declined and was promptly asked if i at least would join a bunch of people later at the kitkat-club (where liza did her aerobics in "cabaret"). but since my acquaintance had earlier told me that that club now functions as b-town's most famous swinger-club, i happily declined again. thought it was kinda flattering though.
nonetheless that night i opened my personal berlin snog-fest. but more about that in my next post.
Friday, April 6, 2007
this is knut
he was born in the berlin zoo in december and immediately kicked out by his evil polar bear mom. but i bet she's regretting that big time these days, as her son has had quite a meteoric rise to stardom ever since. in fact, my whole vaterland seems to suffer from knut-fever these days. he's absolutely everywhere. in the papers, on tv, ... the stores are filled with knut-like stuffed animals in all sizes. he's even got his own song and it was reported that knut is suddenly one of the hot baby names in germany. and people will stand in line for hours just to catch a glimpse of him playing outside his home. i myself haven't had the opportunity yet, as a vast amount of school children on their easter break is storming the zoo right now. so i'm being smart and will wait a week or two to get my own date with knut. until then i thought i might just jump on the bandwagon with everyone else and let knut work his fluffy magic on my blog. he is cute, right?
Monday, April 2, 2007
living the biologically correct life
it's time to reflect on the roommate. i've actually got two of them, but my japanese roommate knows about this blog. so i have to be nice to her, since i don't want her to serve me one of those poisonous japanese fish some day. it's not that i don't trust her in general. but you gotta be a little suspicious of her authenticity, knowing that she keeps a vast amount of bavarian sausages stored in the fridge.
no, the one roommate that begs for objectifying is jan-michael. he's one of those typical german alternative men. in his mid-twenties, he's a student of politics and something else which i can't really remember, but it has something to do with new media. whatever that means. he's an only child and doesn't own a TV. he's reading the most liberal newspaper available in germany, is a member of the green party and sleeps in a tent which he has erected in the middle of his bedroom. he's got a double name, damn it. he loves everything "apple" and got the whole apartment hooked up with a wireless connection that affords us to almost do anything over our computers. in fact, the only thing japanese roommate and me are not doing over our computers right now are cooking and taking a shower. but i guess that's just a matter of time...
but his most defining qualities are that he's so very "bio" and an active member of greenpeace. to my clueless american audience; being "bio" means you only eat groceries which have the word "bio" printed on the wrapping. and you lecture other people about the potential damages that can be done to your body by consuming groceries that are not "bio". he's also against microwaves and has posted a "radioactive"-sign in our hallway which was probably stolen from a power plant during some greenpeace mission. now every time i enter our apartment i'm wondering, what is actually radioactive? the wallpaper in our hallway? japanese roommate and me, because we eat food that isn't "bio"? or the whole city of berlin? i don't even wanna think about all the environmental sins those communists committed. or is it even my whole vaterland? are we all gonna implode one day in a giant teutonic nuclear mushroom? that can give a girl some nightmares :(
and don't get me wrong, i haven't used a microwave in years and i'm all for recycling and saving our environment. but where it really gets me is that we've got an original greenpeace calendar in our kitchen which depicts a dead whale. charming, right?
i can only warn any women to stay away from those alternative german men. although i've got to admit, they do seem to try their best to give "bio" a sexy face. jan-michael proudly told me of a greenpeace stunt where he and a bunch of other guys stood in front of the chancellory to demonstrate against chemicals that attack the male sperm. butt-naked they were, save for some made-up fig leaves which had their protest slogans written on them. i'm all for saving the male sperm. pictures of the stunt are floating somewhere on the internet.
no, the one roommate that begs for objectifying is jan-michael. he's one of those typical german alternative men. in his mid-twenties, he's a student of politics and something else which i can't really remember, but it has something to do with new media. whatever that means. he's an only child and doesn't own a TV. he's reading the most liberal newspaper available in germany, is a member of the green party and sleeps in a tent which he has erected in the middle of his bedroom. he's got a double name, damn it. he loves everything "apple" and got the whole apartment hooked up with a wireless connection that affords us to almost do anything over our computers. in fact, the only thing japanese roommate and me are not doing over our computers right now are cooking and taking a shower. but i guess that's just a matter of time...
but his most defining qualities are that he's so very "bio" and an active member of greenpeace. to my clueless american audience; being "bio" means you only eat groceries which have the word "bio" printed on the wrapping. and you lecture other people about the potential damages that can be done to your body by consuming groceries that are not "bio". he's also against microwaves and has posted a "radioactive"-sign in our hallway which was probably stolen from a power plant during some greenpeace mission. now every time i enter our apartment i'm wondering, what is actually radioactive? the wallpaper in our hallway? japanese roommate and me, because we eat food that isn't "bio"? or the whole city of berlin? i don't even wanna think about all the environmental sins those communists committed. or is it even my whole vaterland? are we all gonna implode one day in a giant teutonic nuclear mushroom? that can give a girl some nightmares :(
and don't get me wrong, i haven't used a microwave in years and i'm all for recycling and saving our environment. but where it really gets me is that we've got an original greenpeace calendar in our kitchen which depicts a dead whale. charming, right?
i can only warn any women to stay away from those alternative german men. although i've got to admit, they do seem to try their best to give "bio" a sexy face. jan-michael proudly told me of a greenpeace stunt where he and a bunch of other guys stood in front of the chancellory to demonstrate against chemicals that attack the male sperm. butt-naked they were, save for some made-up fig leaves which had their protest slogans written on them. i'm all for saving the male sperm. pictures of the stunt are floating somewhere on the internet.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Thursday, March 22, 2007
airport rebel in the poor house
living in a big cosmopolitan city can be beautiful. take my my new home berlin for example. it's got a great public transportation system, as well as a boundless array of nightlife and shopping venues. and it's artsy too. in fact it's so artsy that i sometimes feel like the only person in town who doesn't own an art gallery on the side. but it can be exhausting too and so i decided to go on a short getaway last weekend. the exotic location i chose? my hometown. it's called saarbruecken and is the capital of my home state saarland.
some years ago in a book store in LA, i picked up a german travel guide out of simple curiosity. and there my home area didn't even get its own chapter. we were bunched together with the state of rheinland-pfalz which lies right next to us. this showed me that the guide's author didn't know anything at all about my home country. in germany we're generally suspicious of everybody that isn't "us". we dislike "the others". for example people from the west don't like people from the east and vice versa. or people from bavaria think very little of the "prussians" that inhabit the rest of the country. and so it is also with people from saarland and rheinland-pfalz. we try to avoid each other. but i overcame my initial inhibition and read on. boy! the introductory line to the description of saarland was that it's the poorhouse of germany. at least if i ever hit it big in life i will have a good story on how i came from total poverty...
anyway, i booked a ticket home and so gave german wings another opportunity to embarrass and bully me. that airline hates me with a passion with a capital H and whatever. either they refuse my phone calls after my flight got cancelled or my suitcase is a centimeter too long. but this time actually started off well. there were three gorgeous guys standing in line at the check-in. though this struck me as somewhat suspicious as i kept thinking that gorgeous men like that would never fly to saarland. so when it was my turn to check-in, it turned out that i had been standing in line for the flight to munich. of course. but the lady at the desk was so nice and offered to check me in anyway. now, usually german wings employees always give me horrible attitude. so i was pleasantly surprised and waned myself in safety. boy! i totally forgot about this little evian plastic bottle in my purse. see, in the US those security rules have already been loosened up a bit. and i'm not totally up to date with all 3245 EU regulations that make europeans' lives hell every day. so as soon as my purse went through the security, somebody informed me that i couldn't take that bottle onto the plane. thinking that this was the sufficient measure to be taken, i offered to drink it on the spot. but then two more people stepped up to me and informed me in a stern voice that i also had to get back in line again. which didn't make sense to me and the other people in line who had to wait longer because of this as we all knew that everything had been fine except for the water bottle. so i went through security again and voila - everything was fine. only, it wasn't. since i was told i could only take up to 100 ml of liquid onto the plane, i had kept a very tiny amount of water in that bottle. but that didn't do it for them neither. i was informed that i couldn't even take that on board, since the bottle was able to contain more than 100 ml - even if it actually didn't. which then made me think that people could also never travel with an empty tupperware container in their hand luggage since most of those are able to hold more than 100ml. so i drank the last drop of water, but then was told that there were no trash cans nearby and that i had to take the empty bottle with me into the waiting area. which then made me think that i could even take it on the plane as well, naughty girl that i am. i was just about ready to do so when a uniformed man in a not exactly discreet manner ordered me to follow him into his office. i did and fully expected to be formally arrested there, but they only told me they had to search my laptop. aware that other people in line with a laptop weren't singled out, i asked what they were searching for. EXPLOSIVES i was told. yeah, right. explosives in my toshiba satellite m 115 notebook. right. my brother later told me that i should have answered them that there couldn't be any explosives in my laptop since i had just drunk them from the water bottle. but i wouldn't dare to be so aufmuepfig. they hate me already. so i just crumbled into my plane seat and tried to avoid any further eye contact. but couldn't help notice that another passenger brought a to go cup of coffee on board. now, i've worked long enough in coffee shops to know that it was a 16 oz cup. at least.
well, i finally landed in saarland. that is, right at the edge of saarland. right at the border to rheinland-pfalz. which actually doesn't even matter as both places just look and feel the same. i took the shuttle from the airport to saarbruecken. and when i took my seat, a female berliner in front of me turned to her husband and said "looks like we've arrived in the province." thinking "lady, you've seen nothing yet", i crumbled once more into my seat. it was a brutal reminder of my proletarian origins. but is there a better place to lick your airport security - inflicted wounds than home?
disclaimer:
actually i lied and i'm not really from saarbruecken. i grew up in a tiny village in the forest in the outskirts of saarbruecken. and i was born in voelklingen which is a rapidly dying former industrial city that was once selected as the most ugly town in germany.
some years ago in a book store in LA, i picked up a german travel guide out of simple curiosity. and there my home area didn't even get its own chapter. we were bunched together with the state of rheinland-pfalz which lies right next to us. this showed me that the guide's author didn't know anything at all about my home country. in germany we're generally suspicious of everybody that isn't "us". we dislike "the others". for example people from the west don't like people from the east and vice versa. or people from bavaria think very little of the "prussians" that inhabit the rest of the country. and so it is also with people from saarland and rheinland-pfalz. we try to avoid each other. but i overcame my initial inhibition and read on. boy! the introductory line to the description of saarland was that it's the poorhouse of germany. at least if i ever hit it big in life i will have a good story on how i came from total poverty...
anyway, i booked a ticket home and so gave german wings another opportunity to embarrass and bully me. that airline hates me with a passion with a capital H and whatever. either they refuse my phone calls after my flight got cancelled or my suitcase is a centimeter too long. but this time actually started off well. there were three gorgeous guys standing in line at the check-in. though this struck me as somewhat suspicious as i kept thinking that gorgeous men like that would never fly to saarland. so when it was my turn to check-in, it turned out that i had been standing in line for the flight to munich. of course. but the lady at the desk was so nice and offered to check me in anyway. now, usually german wings employees always give me horrible attitude. so i was pleasantly surprised and waned myself in safety. boy! i totally forgot about this little evian plastic bottle in my purse. see, in the US those security rules have already been loosened up a bit. and i'm not totally up to date with all 3245 EU regulations that make europeans' lives hell every day. so as soon as my purse went through the security, somebody informed me that i couldn't take that bottle onto the plane. thinking that this was the sufficient measure to be taken, i offered to drink it on the spot. but then two more people stepped up to me and informed me in a stern voice that i also had to get back in line again. which didn't make sense to me and the other people in line who had to wait longer because of this as we all knew that everything had been fine except for the water bottle. so i went through security again and voila - everything was fine. only, it wasn't. since i was told i could only take up to 100 ml of liquid onto the plane, i had kept a very tiny amount of water in that bottle. but that didn't do it for them neither. i was informed that i couldn't even take that on board, since the bottle was able to contain more than 100 ml - even if it actually didn't. which then made me think that people could also never travel with an empty tupperware container in their hand luggage since most of those are able to hold more than 100ml. so i drank the last drop of water, but then was told that there were no trash cans nearby and that i had to take the empty bottle with me into the waiting area. which then made me think that i could even take it on the plane as well, naughty girl that i am. i was just about ready to do so when a uniformed man in a not exactly discreet manner ordered me to follow him into his office. i did and fully expected to be formally arrested there, but they only told me they had to search my laptop. aware that other people in line with a laptop weren't singled out, i asked what they were searching for. EXPLOSIVES i was told. yeah, right. explosives in my toshiba satellite m 115 notebook. right. my brother later told me that i should have answered them that there couldn't be any explosives in my laptop since i had just drunk them from the water bottle. but i wouldn't dare to be so aufmuepfig. they hate me already. so i just crumbled into my plane seat and tried to avoid any further eye contact. but couldn't help notice that another passenger brought a to go cup of coffee on board. now, i've worked long enough in coffee shops to know that it was a 16 oz cup. at least.
well, i finally landed in saarland. that is, right at the edge of saarland. right at the border to rheinland-pfalz. which actually doesn't even matter as both places just look and feel the same. i took the shuttle from the airport to saarbruecken. and when i took my seat, a female berliner in front of me turned to her husband and said "looks like we've arrived in the province." thinking "lady, you've seen nothing yet", i crumbled once more into my seat. it was a brutal reminder of my proletarian origins. but is there a better place to lick your airport security - inflicted wounds than home?
disclaimer:
actually i lied and i'm not really from saarbruecken. i grew up in a tiny village in the forest in the outskirts of saarbruecken. and i was born in voelklingen which is a rapidly dying former industrial city that was once selected as the most ugly town in germany.
Thursday, March 8, 2007
nefertiti rocks!
today i went to visit the oldest female berliner. nefertiti, almost 3400 years old and still gorgeous. unfortunately though i don't have any pics to back up that claim as the lady has gotten quite the attitude and doesn't want to have her picture taken with a cellphone or camera-flash. who does she think she is? madonna?
seriously, i so didn't dare to break that rule after first being told by a museum guard to keep my purse closed and then being reprimanded by another guard for having my purse slung over my shoulder instead of carrying it by hand (don't ask). and by the time yet another guard followed me closely across two exhibition rooms i was convinced that either this museum took over the whole former Stasi staff from the GDR or that i must fit the profile of an internationally known art history thief. take a guess.
seriously, i so didn't dare to break that rule after first being told by a museum guard to keep my purse closed and then being reprimanded by another guard for having my purse slung over my shoulder instead of carrying it by hand (don't ask). and by the time yet another guard followed me closely across two exhibition rooms i was convinced that either this museum took over the whole former Stasi staff from the GDR or that i must fit the profile of an internationally known art history thief. take a guess.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
all is well in b-town
this week it's been three months since i've left LA and returned to my natural habitat in germany. and so far my accomplishments here have amounted to creating a sizeable paper trail in the jungle of german bureaucracy, furnishing my new digs in IKEA-chic and snogging two guys. so it's time for further reflection. but let's begin with my actual return.
it was crowned by a short and perfect lay-over in dublin. and i don't wanna brag here, but as soon as i set foot on the irish soil, days of dreadful rain came to an end and the sun smiled upon me and all those irish people running around. so i hopped onto a bus to town and went to "Maguire's" which was recommended to me by a nice irish man on the plane. after a yummy lunch and a smoooooooth glass of guiness, i went to a gift shop and bought a pencil which is topped by a sheep with a shamrock tattoo on his right hip. so adorable. though my evil greenpeace-activist-roommate upon whom i will reflect later on, calls it "the girlie pencil". anyway, it was time to return to the airport and as a dutiful and punctual german i did just so.
upon my return to my vaterland i stayed at my parents' house for a good six weeks that sometimes felt like six years. there i went right back to my german habits of spending the days rinsing out empty yoghurt containers for better recycling, listening to ABBA and Queen on the radio and being repressed. but all was not peaceful during this particular christmas time. in fact, december 2006 will go down in history as the time when the whole country of germany was overcome by a collective fear of cinnamon. yes, cinnamon. because cinnamon is deadly, at least a certain kind of cinnamon if consumed in big quantities. that's at least what some german newspaper said. now you have to know that some of the most popular christmas cookies in germany are cinnamon wafers. and they're truly yummy. but during this particular christmas time people kept sniffing at them and when they were given as a gift, they were generally received with suspicious glances and the gift giver was put down on the potential mortal enemy-list. yes, germans keep track of those things. they're very organized in general. some incredibly thoughtful german mind eventually came up with the rule that it was safe to consume up to three cinnamon wafers daily. the size or thickness of the cinnamon wafer was left out of consideration though. i myself braved the whole controversy by indulging in a complete bag full of cinnamon wafers in one day. and voila, i'm still standing!
it was crowned by a short and perfect lay-over in dublin. and i don't wanna brag here, but as soon as i set foot on the irish soil, days of dreadful rain came to an end and the sun smiled upon me and all those irish people running around. so i hopped onto a bus to town and went to "Maguire's" which was recommended to me by a nice irish man on the plane. after a yummy lunch and a smoooooooth glass of guiness, i went to a gift shop and bought a pencil which is topped by a sheep with a shamrock tattoo on his right hip. so adorable. though my evil greenpeace-activist-roommate upon whom i will reflect later on, calls it "the girlie pencil". anyway, it was time to return to the airport and as a dutiful and punctual german i did just so.
upon my return to my vaterland i stayed at my parents' house for a good six weeks that sometimes felt like six years. there i went right back to my german habits of spending the days rinsing out empty yoghurt containers for better recycling, listening to ABBA and Queen on the radio and being repressed. but all was not peaceful during this particular christmas time. in fact, december 2006 will go down in history as the time when the whole country of germany was overcome by a collective fear of cinnamon. yes, cinnamon. because cinnamon is deadly, at least a certain kind of cinnamon if consumed in big quantities. that's at least what some german newspaper said. now you have to know that some of the most popular christmas cookies in germany are cinnamon wafers. and they're truly yummy. but during this particular christmas time people kept sniffing at them and when they were given as a gift, they were generally received with suspicious glances and the gift giver was put down on the potential mortal enemy-list. yes, germans keep track of those things. they're very organized in general. some incredibly thoughtful german mind eventually came up with the rule that it was safe to consume up to three cinnamon wafers daily. the size or thickness of the cinnamon wafer was left out of consideration though. i myself braved the whole controversy by indulging in a complete bag full of cinnamon wafers in one day. and voila, i'm still standing!
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