tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50125562486631196882024-02-08T01:35:44.695+02:00anysroadit doesn't matter which way you go, you will always end up somewhereUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger380125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-58266479701708083052014-08-27T11:39:00.002+02:002014-08-27T11:39:54.684+02:00goodbye & hello.<div align="JUSTIFY" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; widows: 8;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">in
some cultures people don't praise the beauty of a child might it get
snatched away by envious, evil demons. that's how i feel about my
life right now. i kind of, dare not say out loud, no less in writing
how flipping amazing it is. that i'm having butterflies all the time.
travel butterflies, project butterflies, people butterflies. all the
good kinds... and to make it even better – i did it myself. i took
a leap, i jumped, i flew. i worked hard on my happiness over the last
couple of months and now i want to enjoy it and shout it to the
world, demons be damned and aren't they always? and besides my desire
to share, and okay, gloat a little, i am grateful and more than
anything i think gratitude needs to be shared, preferably other than
in a 3 x day post on facebook – no offense to those who are doing
it, it's just not my cup of tea. or as my cousin posted in response
“nobody dare fucking nominate me for this crap!” nevertheless i
am grateful and i like saying certain things out loud. just like <i>i
love you </i>or <i>you are an ass!, thank you</i> sounds better in my
mouth than in my head. well, in my case it sounds best on
paper/screen. </span></span>
</div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">that
brings me to something else. i have a little business idea in my
mind. i have had it for quite some time and it has taken and changed
shape over time, but now i'm almost ready to get it out there. mind
you there are still so many things to do, but the general idea is
ready to emerge. but here is the thing...i am terrified of failing. i
am actually frozen in inactivity, if i don't do it, it can't go
wrong, right? today for the first time i admitted that to myself that
the reason why i haven't started yet isn't that i don't have time or
don't think it will work or that i mind hard work, i don't at all. i
am pure and simply terrified of failing, because i question what
dream will be left if i do. this is it, this business i am planning
is the essence of me. of course i know that dreams change and shift
over our lives and once they are accomplished there will be new ones,
but to see such an important one crushed would be, well, crushing. </span></span>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">but
with all the faults i might have i'm not a coward or a negative
person and so i need to start. with that said something gotta give
and it's going to be this little blog. you can probably tell from my
infrequent blogging over the past months that my interest is shifting
away and instead of letting it slowly go into oblivion i thought it
would be nicer to make a clean cut. so this is my last post. i am
still very much writing for the travelettes so you can follow at
least my traveling adventures there and i will keep my twitter and
instragram for now. as for my new baby i will introduce it once it is
ready to come out. </span></span>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">till
then a special thank you to thekla for inspiring this blog to come
along, to my mum who always prefered a letter from me to an actual
birthday present because she liked my writing, and to all of you who
read <i>me</i> and told me you liked it. </span></span>
</div>
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<br />
</div>
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<span style="color: #424242;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">à
bientôt</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>any</i></span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" lang="en-US" style="font-weight: normal; widows: 8;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1S-pgJDL3UIKwDPt-gOm6oZlzKqr3Lntb42aQUnZHhyphenhyphenNv4SQ0MrrhD25JmUVhTFjwzESZDkSLOK1s3PYXQWtvCEdC3ofRviNQrWpkIzOuNmR_ZbHUtkA1QZagZFp9HqzI5ePwORrJH4Pd/s1600/me+in+la+sultana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1S-pgJDL3UIKwDPt-gOm6oZlzKqr3Lntb42aQUnZHhyphenhyphenNv4SQ0MrrhD25JmUVhTFjwzESZDkSLOK1s3PYXQWtvCEdC3ofRviNQrWpkIzOuNmR_ZbHUtkA1QZagZFp9HqzI5ePwORrJH4Pd/s1600/me+in+la+sultana.jpg" height="534" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small; text-align: justify; widows: 8;">that's me taking princess selfies in my bathroom at la sultana just before i flooded it (and the iphone) with my jacuzzi bubbles. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-39465308768575559422014-07-06T21:33:00.001+02:002014-07-06T21:33:43.999+02:00living life. german style.<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
guys, i wish i could honestly
apologize for the silence, alas i cannot. life in hamburg is, well,
full of life. at this point it is everything i wanted it to be and
never thought it actually could. things are falling into place in a
way i never imagined possible and at a speed that is a bit mind
boggling at times.
</div>
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<br />
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first of all there is a lot more
hours in a day here. daylight hours that is (yes, even compared to a
cape town summer) so i get a lot more done. because even when i am
sick (which i was a few weeks ago and i tried) i cannot go to bed at
9pm when the sunlight is still streaming into my room. but regardless
of the hours, i want to do a lot more. i have plans and meetings and
projects and friends and … a life. i have become not quite a
different person here, but a different side of me has come out to
play. in the land that has the cliche attached that everybody is
grumpy (which is so not true!!), i am not grumpy anymore. not
annoyed. not irritable. how that happened, i don't know, but i am
starting to appreciate my own grace to handle things these days.
</div>
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the weather has been horrid for
the most part and i don't even mind. i have borrowed one friend's
boots and another friend's jacket and as long as they don't mind, i
don't mind. this weekend has been hot and humid and all i could do
was sleep, so maybe my german cold bloodedness is already back in
full swing.
</div>
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of all the things, i noticed that
i have become really unpunctual. remember in cape town i was the girl
who couldn't be late even if i tried. here it has become easy. mind
you, i am not proud of it, but i am not really bothered by it either.
i have learned to relax which again is funny that stiff germany
allows me to relax when south africa didn't.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
so for the time being i'm relaxed.
i write when i want to write. i work. i do what i came here to do:
hang out with my friends, go for dinner with my brother, be ignored
by my nephew when his friends are around, call my parents for free
whenever, watch my godchild take her first steps, fish euros out of
my washing machine, buy myself overpriced diptyque candles (i wish i
could say with said euros, but the spoils have not been big enough
yet...), book flights all over europe (again, not quite, but that's
the goal, and yes, morocco has become part of europe for all intent
and purpose).
</div>
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<br />
</div>
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okay, so i apologize for the
silence but i am not making any promises right now. life needs to be
lived and sometimes that is far away from a computer or a phone,
because usually my hands are busy eating ice cream - have i mentioned
that i not only live next to the red light district of hamburg, but
also the best ice cream parlour in town?</div>
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<br />
</div>
<br />
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
once i put the ice cream down
however my new iphone (hurrah) and i have been getting nicely
acquainted via instagram so follow me <a href="http://instagram.com/anysroad">here</a> and as per usual read my
thoughts about travel and the big wide world on <a href="http://www.travelettes.net/">travelettes</a>. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-60044765390282446072014-06-08T18:34:00.000+02:002014-06-08T18:34:23.601+02:00great expectations. part II.<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
last week i wrote <a href="http://www.travelettes.net/my-10-most-cherished-holiday-memories/">a story for the travelettes</a> about how holiday memories and dreaming sometimes help me
through reality. i started with one of my favourite quotes by a<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">naïs</span></span></span><span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: ArialMT, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span> nin who said “we write to taste life twice.”
</div>
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</div>
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this week it ain't helping to
write about. sorry, a<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">naïs</span></span></span>,
but sometimes writing is just not enough, after all writing isn't
real tasting, isn't real living.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
my tan is fading and so is
<i>vacation me</i>. i am working so hard on making a life for myself
here in hamburg and i feel like i am failing at it at each turn. i
know objectively that my start here is as good as i could have hoped
for, but i just don't feel it. i feel like i am constantly
disappointing people's expectation and most importantly my own. i
already need a holiday, mainly because on holiday there is nobody's
expectation to disappoint and as far expectations of myself go – i
have none. of course i do have expectations of gecko roommates and
such, but those are easier to handle. which reminds me that you most
likely won't get the gecko roommate remark as i haven't written that
post yet and it is such a good story and i really want to share it
and there it goes onto my to-do list. currently on place number 347.
<i>sigh</i>.</div>
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
i know that all is well and will
be even better.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
i know that a big part of it is
that i worked really hard on my first local production last week so i
am simply exhausted. also i haven't done any yoga, eaten little good
food, drank much wine (yes, there is wine here too! and when i felt a
bit homesick on thursday my brother bought all south african wines
for me), and now got a cold. we all know who turns into a moaning,
moping guy when sick, right?
</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
oh, and did i mention that my
wonderful friend marie got married last week and we all ended up
having too much fun with our new york friends? now it's time for
routine, time to calm down, time to work, and while i know i need it,
i feel like all joy has gone.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
<br />
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
i know that most expectations are
in my own head. and that i just need to let them go because i am not
only doing what i can, i am not just doing fine, i am doing great.
today is just one of those days when i need a constant reminder of it
and maybe a hug or two.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
p.s. in case you wonder why this post is call called "great expectations. part II" - i already wrote one called "great expectations" and it is about expectations in my yoga practise and how wonderful it felt to let go of them. read it <a href="http://anysroad.blogspot.de/2012/04/great-expectations.html">here</a>, i quite liked reading it again and it still seems valid and appropriate for all sorts of situations. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-18262426873207042042014-05-25T22:22:00.000+02:002014-05-26T08:45:46.057+02:00a new life.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-2SpYO0xjjdt_HC7uJJU-9gTC_j8ATN0x69s_FVub4cNT-DM0KBmT9Dz6Kd6e4jB2zGM6-VYktkbz3tt16UYmjBPJ5h8304575xKltE9WQloPQQBjZ5fw0PpA5sVZywHUCIHUiCEdI50R/s1600/ilivehere.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-2SpYO0xjjdt_HC7uJJU-9gTC_j8ATN0x69s_FVub4cNT-DM0KBmT9Dz6Kd6e4jB2zGM6-VYktkbz3tt16UYmjBPJ5h8304575xKltE9WQloPQQBjZ5fw0PpA5sVZywHUCIHUiCEdI50R/s1600/ilivehere.JPG" height="586" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
welcome to hamburg! my first post
from germany and if you expect me to write in german now i am sorry
to disappoint. i still think i sound funny when i speak it and
dotting my ü's is a pain when i have to write application letters
and such. also i just blow-dried my boobs. what are you up to?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
i also blow-dried my hair which in
itself is a novelty i haven't attempted in ages and only did because
i was so cold, but it didn't help my boobs which were also really
cold, so i just stuck it into my t-shirt for a few seconds.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
just another day in hamburg. while
it is still freezing (or what feels like freezing to me after 4 weeks
in thailand with constant sweat running down my face) today there is
a bit of blue skies. that also is a novelty because since my arrival
almost three weeks ago i haven't seen much of the sky. the weather
totally tricked me because i got out of the airport and it
was...nice. well, evening, but nice and warmish. i think hamburg
arranged it like that so i wouldn't turn right back around and get on
the next plane out, because had i known that since then it would be
the most dreadful weather i can imagine, i would have run while i
could. on top of it everybody keeps on telling me that it was amazing
in april and i just think <i>what the fuck?! </i>and the they are all
lying.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">now
i have been here for just three weeks and i am just very slowly
getting out of my bubble. a bubble of </span><i>hurrah, i am here!
what the fuck am i doing here? why is it still light outside? will
the sun ever shine here? wow, look at all these pasta choices! i need
a job. sehr geehrte damen und herren, i am awesome, please hire me! i
want to buy everything at COS. a look at my account makes me cry.
yeah, so much bikram classes in a day. i am too tired for bikram
today, i will go tomorrow. or not. i need my own space. i am so happy
to have my bestest friends around me... </i><span style="font-style: normal;">yes,
the bubble is slightly confusing and thus exhausting. </span>
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; widows: 8;">
on monday i
realized i need to chill. not in the sense of not doing anything, but
in that way were you relax and let the magic happen, that only
happens when you don't clench your jaw too tightly. i can say it is
working. when it rains it pours and at least now that is not meant
literally in hamburg.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; widows: 8;">
while that
worked for about two days, my wallet got stolen on day three.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; widows: 8;">
agh, the karma
that eating at mcdonald's will get you.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; widows: 8;">
now things are
somehow back on track and i am staying with my brother (who is an
awesome cook, so it is no hardship to be here!) till i will hopefully
move into my own place at the beginning of june. before that i have a
wedding to attend and friends from new york to show around and a
whole lot of general merriment so life ain't so bad here. oh, and
they have macarons too! till i find time to sit down and actually
write a story or two, find me on instagram (thanks to awesome
internet connection, which is fast everywhere!) under <a href="http://instagram.com/anysroad">#ilivehere</a> -
don't ask, it is an inside joke only friends from new york will get,
so just go with it.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-7241767436251442982014-04-27T12:16:00.000+02:002014-04-27T12:16:16.709+02:00 island life. a tough one.<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 136;">
i'm lying in my hotel bed,
curtains closed, aircon at full blast. i feel like a lady with a
migrane, you now that kind of woman who would put her hand on her
forehead and theatrically sigh and say 'darling, i need to lie down,
i have the most terrible headache' with a british accent. that's me
today minus the headache and the british accent. welcome to phuket!</div>
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<br />
</div>
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phuket has gotten to me. as soon
as i set foot on the island yesterday i don't like it. that
impression gets stronger when we arrive at the gibbon rehabilitation
centre and learn all about the gibbon poachers who steal the babies
from their mothers just to have stupid, horrible tourists take
pictures with them for money. to be fair that doesn't only happen in
phuket, but it is the first time i hear about it, so phuket gets to
take the blame.
</div>
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</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 136;">
my friend says that phuket is
for russians what mallorca is for the germans. that is true and not a
compliment to either. it is loud and there is so much traffic while
it lacks the charming big city chaos of bangkok. riding in a
songtaew, fun till now, is horrid in the fumes. i can see i'm not
the only one in my group that feels this way, we all wish to be back
at deserted, quiet koh yao noi, the perfect island if there ever was
one.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 136;">
then i feel properly sick and
can't bear the thought of fried anything or curry. for lunch i order
a club sandwich. it arrives an hour after everybody else's meals and
the bread isn't toasted. who doesn't toast toast?! i wish i would
have gotten a toastie from 7 eleven instead.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 136;">
in the afternoon i take a nap i
cannot wake up from. my body feels like lead and i barely make it to
dinner. before dinner we visit the local night market: t-shirts,
soaps, fake handbags. once you have seen a stall, you have seen at
all. the air is sticky and i miss the festive atmosphere, the
laughter from the market in chiang mai.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 136;">
today i try to find a breakfast
spot and i have very few requirements: pancakes, some sort of a view,
cozy so i can work from there. i walk towards the beach front and
find nothing, everything is either closed or unappealing. meanwhile
the weather is the most humid i have had. proper bikram temperatures,
my face is dripping and my thighs stick together with each step, a
vidid reminder of each pad thai and ever beer i had on this trip.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 136;">
when i get to the ocean i am
disappointed, but not surprised: even the beach here is ugly. who
wants rows and rows of sunloungers anyway? the clouds aren't helping,
the ocean looked grey instead of blue. that's not phuket's fault, but
still i need someone/something to blame.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 136;">
i walk back to my hotel and find
the elephant cafe right next door. while it doesn't have a view it
has awesome pineapple pancakes and thai ice tea, the waiter is
friendly and the wifi is speedy. i am slightly mollified till my
stomach is acting up again, i can't fault the pancakes so once again
i just blame phuket; it gets on my nerves and has now affected my so
far very happy tummy.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 136;">
so here i am, the lady in her
dark, cool hotel room. waiting till i can go to the next island, one
that will be worth my time and worthy of my thighs sticking together.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
<br />
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 136;">
(and just in case you will call
be spoilt and ungrateful i will give you exhibit a) phuket beach and
exhibit b) all other beaches i have been to and you can decide on
your own.)</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-61988161851742190322014-04-10T16:32:00.000+02:002014-04-10T16:36:04.023+02:00the art of not being annoyed.<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
i recently read a post on tips how
to become a travel blogger. one point mentioned that you should find
a part of the world, any part really, to write about other than
thailand. according to the author thailand has been covered left,
right, and center and there is nothing worthwhile to add to the
conversation. lucky for me and you, i am not a travel blogger. so for
the next view weeks you will have to endure/ may enjoy my stories
about thailand. take it or leave it.
</div>
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<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
for this holiday i really wanted
easy. that sounds a bit odd, because shouldn't holiday always be
easy? but i really wanted to go some place where as little as
possible could go wrong or displease me. i didn't want adventure or
challenges, i have the biggest challenge ahead of me with my move, so
all i wanted was peace and quiet, pad thai, soak up all the sun
before moving to <strike>eternal winter </strike>germany, and snorkel my little
heart out. with that in mind i set out into a holiday where i only
wanted to do what i truly want to do. again, isn't that what you
always do in any given holiday you will ask. personally i think the
answer is no. we always have this little voice or big guide book in
our mind that tells us <i>you must see... you must do...you must not
miss! </i>but what if i don't want to see or do? what if i do want to
miss?</div>
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i am sitting on the little balcony
at my <a href="http://www.theasadang.com/">asadang</a> room and can only hope that my mozzie lotion will last
in the bikram-esque temperatures and humidity (not from me editing
one hour later, it doesn't). i have my laptop, a somewhat cold
singha, and i actually feel i want to write, that it is not a chore,
but a joy and i can finally write down the things that have been
going through my mind for the last days and weeks. also it is only
8pm and yes, i am in bangkok. i guess some people would see my
evening as a complete waste of time, but honestly i couldn't be
happier. this is something i want to do. just like the nap i took
this afternoon. and the fact that i spent 1/12 of the last 24 hours
getting massages. happy feet i have. and all the pad thai i had so
far, which i will tell you about tomorrow, because they are worth to
have their own post.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
anyhow, so with everything i am
doing right now, i am asking myself consciously all the time – <i>do
i want to do this?</i> i just reread my <a href="http://anysroad.blogspot.com/2013/08/bangkok-baby.html">first bangkok post from last year </a>and funny enough i had the same sentiment – <i>what do i want
to do?</i> strange how i tend to forget this ever important question
in daily life. or maybe i haven't and that's why i am giving up
everything that i know and love to move to another continent for the
vague idea of what i <i>really</i> want. i don't know and i don't
think i am ready to dive into these feelings quite yet. for now i
want to be here, really here. i need a sneaky little love affair to
take my mind of things and for that bangkok is truly wonderful. and
before your mind turns dirty, by love affair i mean a little city
dalliance to get over cape town. for everything else i believe
bangkok is like vegas and what happens here, stays here.</div>
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bangkok is boiling right now, both
literally and figuratively. it is hot and humid, songkran, the thai
new year's is about to commence, and yes, there are still
demonstrations and such happening. and, just my luck and don't tell
my parents or aunt sylvi – my hotel is right next to some
government building or other that is completely roped off with fresh,
out of the factory, barbed wire. nothing too scary, but taxis have
trouble getting to my place and so it seems easier to just walk.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
on my way to my massage yesterday
i walked past the barbed wired building and the only nuisance really,
was that my dress got caught twice because i was more scared of the
motorbikes on the road than the barbed wire on the sidewalk. which i
know is a little thing, but i also know what that stuff has done to a
few of my clothes on my balcony already, so i will not be repeating
this rookie error any time soon. other than that all was calm and
there was even a whole stretch of wire decorated with different
coloured tinsel pompoms. sorry, no pictures of the barbed wired
building, it seemed like asking for trouble with fate at the time.
and also, tinsel or no tinsel, barbed wire really is not very pretty
and it feels frivolous and stupid to take a picture of it when i
don't know the whole story as to why it is there and what is going on
here.
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tonight after my evening massage –
yes, that is an actual thing! - i tried to take a taxi back as it was
already dark and i can now proudly say that my sense of direction in
bangkok is better than the taxi driver's. i kept on gesturing where
to go and how to get to the hotel, but he wouldn't listen. obviously
me, being me, got quite annoyed. which you cannot ever be in
thailand, being annoyed is not a thing here. and so obviously yelling
wouldn't have helped, because my thai yelling skills are still quite
bad and so was his english comprehension. when we arrived after a 15
minute detour, i did have a bit of smug <i>told you so</i> face and
he? he just laughed and laughed, i guess at himself and for me
actually knowing the way and gave me a discount on my fare. and
that's when i realized that i came to thailand for two reasons: to
eat ALL the pad thai and to learn the art of how not to be annoyed.
<br />
<br />
pictures:<br />
my very uncreased borsalino thanks to julia!<br />
evening desk.<br />
first singha and then i had to leave it because they told me <i>no pad thai tonight!</i><br />
my neighbour: wat ratchabopit.<br />
streets getting ready for songkran.<br />
wine, move along, i have a new favourite drink - thai iced tea.<br />
orchids at the asadang.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-65970063302445843232014-04-08T11:59:00.000+02:002014-04-08T11:59:36.740+02:00dulce vita.i am sitting at dulce cafe (aha, her spelling is not so bad after all) at the airport. probably for the last time in a long time. one last, quick airport post. don't think i am able to write more than that yet because while i'm wearing waterproof mascara, my contact lenses have been giving me grief and i just don't feel like crying anymore right now. which obviously i would, because…dah, i'm leaving cape town for good. and while everybody has been so so lovely with kind words and messages and perfectly boiled eggs for breakfast, i actually hate goodbyes. i wasn't able to do anything more than to give everybody a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. i am too good of a cryer. and while i am writing this i realise i need to change the topic… so on that note next time you hear from me, i will be sitting on the most wonderful little balcony in bangkok and then i will tell you all about my last week in cape town and how i hated it because it was so bloody perfect and much more.<br />
<br />
for now just goodbye, beloved city.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-23440351444226764052014-03-27T10:14:00.000+02:002014-03-27T10:14:43.267+02:00it's complicated.
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">so here is something that i
learned: people are extremely nice to you if you are about to leave the country
for good. in my case all these nice people are usually already quite nice to
me, so nice, that i am sometimes not sure how i deserve it. but right now the
niceness has gotten to a whole new level.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">hi, world!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">today is my second last day of
work and i thought i should check in because tomorrow i will probably be too
busy with all the crying and all the champagne drinking. right now i am equally
excited and terrified. fact is i really, really like my job and the people that
i work with and the house i work in. the house actually smells like my
grandmother’s house, which is really odd considering that the houses are on
other ends of the world and not in the same climate zone. but my cousin, who
once visited me here and who also knows how our grandmother’s house smells
like, concurs. i love this smell, it makes me feel home, which i guess is why i
always really liked my office. this morning the smell made me a bit teary. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">but back to the nice people.
people want to see me, take me out, and they send me more giraffe pictures than
usual. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwDQ2z4K-5-vrd-QyQG7buOo4jSBZrI0pA9yJlQoTADXw6yTtbgIYbTqFXEtBERvhWE6tvm7yi-Yck4u2Ngl5hyphenhyphen0HrqYj5KoRcydcq1Y0a5WapyTEJMzMnZ2A9aQfZ0ioOQ0u3kLgC3xlo/s1600/ad7232a82774ab515a1a6d7428fc6b8e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwDQ2z4K-5-vrd-QyQG7buOo4jSBZrI0pA9yJlQoTADXw6yTtbgIYbTqFXEtBERvhWE6tvm7yi-Yck4u2Ngl5hyphenhyphen0HrqYj5KoRcydcq1Y0a5WapyTEJMzMnZ2A9aQfZ0ioOQ0u3kLgC3xlo/s1600/ad7232a82774ab515a1a6d7428fc6b8e.jpg" height="320" width="178" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">this was a pin i got this morning
from claire which of course had me squeal in excitement. anybody flying from
california to cape town within the next week and can bring me one please?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">besides feeling very grateful for
all this love and attention, i feel … odd, for a lack of better word. i am
still here, my mind is elsewhere, then i get mad at my mind for not being here,
then i’m here, the sun is not, i get sad, i get anxious, yesterday i felt like
i just wanted to run away from it all…south africa, germany, my decision, i
feel ridiculously happy, i have been sleeping badly with horrible dreams though
sometimes a good one sneaks in that makes me optimistic again. argh. if my mind
was to be described in a relationship status, it would definitely be <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">it’s complicated. </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">as i will not be having my
awesome desk calendar from the weekend onwards i started to make my own for
next week. and it scares me not because of the things i have written down, but
because of all the things i probably forgot to write down. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcrEvBtpG7PnrYziRJYF3RAqb1P63DOxcpNNakB-eFzLmf-D1OA6dASKGKz9_KMV9Fj69u-txXh_iJOE0vxPiw57zn2pueWlc8DO3nh7taqLyhnJzRLeAlvhpIrGkEaJg4Sx4svzq7_jAt/s1600/Scan0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcrEvBtpG7PnrYziRJYF3RAqb1P63DOxcpNNakB-eFzLmf-D1OA6dASKGKz9_KMV9Fj69u-txXh_iJOE0vxPiw57zn2pueWlc8DO3nh7taqLyhnJzRLeAlvhpIrGkEaJg4Sx4svzq7_jAt/s1600/Scan0001.jpg" height="464" width="640" /></a></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">i guess i should add <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">write goodbye cape town post</i>, but
realistically my next post will my typical airport, drinking too many G&Ts
before boarding post. i hope you will bear with me, i will make up for it with
an overload of thailand beach pictures. as i said i’m complicated right now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-786674296125922672014-03-17T11:04:00.000+02:002014-03-17T11:04:19.051+02:00life erratic.
<br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">so on tuesday i
started the morning with the usual...not wanting to get up, finally getting up,
showering, and only after walking through my apartment several times – barefoot
– and putting my contact lenses in did i realize that there were maggots on the
floor. yes, i know what you will think of me now. in my defense i will say that
while i struggle daily to get out of bed at a reasonable hour the maggot thing,
while it has happened before, doesn't happen daily, thank god. though if you
saw me how calmly i destroyed every single one of them without doom and without
any vomiting, you’d think it is a regular occurrence. i promise you it isn’t.
while my flat is never that spick and span that i would offer you my floors to
eat from, it isn’t thaaat bad either. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">i did work up
quite a sweat though which didn't help the make-up on my face situation so i
ended up at work late, hair uncombed, and face bare. oh well. how was your
morning? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">i spent the
next few hours pondering what the maggot situation meant – was it hotter
outside than i realized? did i throw out meat and just forgot about it? did the
maggots come from space? was i just a slop? should i be able with 35 to offer
my guests floors so clean they could eat off them if they wanted to? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">obviously i am
now convinced that maggots are just another form of evil aliens. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">last week i was
talking to a client of ours about my pending move and was proudly telling him
how good it felt to get rid of so much stuff and the realization that i really
don't need lots. that same evening i received the first quote from a removal
company and it brought tears to my eyes. i looked at my, what i already thought
tiny pile of things i wanted to ship, and had to reevaluate here and now just
how little i was really attached and weed through this tiny pile again to make
it even tinier. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">how am i
supposed to live without my two white plastic animals?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">or without my
three champagne glasses, sole survivors of many beautiful dinner parties?<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">or my falling
bird picture that julia and nele gave me a few years ago for my birthday and
that i once dripped body lotion on which didn’t matter because it looks like a
bird feather?<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">some stuff just
is important...<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">luckily natalie
gave me another shipping company's name and they are much much cheaper, but
cannot ship furniture. alas, my beautiful chair needs to stay. at this point i
had already said my goodbyes and didn't care all that much anymore. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">so when i got
to the office on tuesday and after deciding that maggots are evil aliens, i
called the shipping company, ordered boxes, and paid a deposit. only to get a
better quote from another company literally 5 minutes later which could ship
everything including my chair, because who are we kidding – i love that chair!
i immediately cancelled the first order of boxes only to change it all back
after some more 'careful' consideration another 10 minutes later. maybe i
didn't need to bring my chair after all. or maybe the chair could travel on its
own with the one company while the boxes went with someone else? <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">when i got home
i first made sure that the floor was now maggot free and decided to put things
in piles. then i took my pictures down, only to put them up again a minute
later, because really the boxes would only arrive on thursday and why live with
bare walls any longer than strictly necessary?<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">see where i'm
going with this? my life is a bit erratic right now and while i apparently have
no problem making decisions, i can’t stick to any it seems. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">the boxes
arrived including bubble wrap, marker, tape, and packing list. you can imagine
how excited an organized control freak like me gets if a company not only
delivers boxes to you, but gives you all the other stuff you need to pack them
too?! and before you ask, no, this is not a sponsored post…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">so i started to
pack while watching old bachelor reruns and drinking wine. pictures were taken
off the wall, my pizza spade taken apart to fit into my suitcase, and glasses
bubble wrapped and taped so well, i threw them around the room a bit and they
wouldn’t break.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>all in all a normal
evening. till i ran out of wine and decided to move on to drinking malibu on ice.
which in my defense i would have never thought of if it wasn’t for natalie who
deemed it a good enough pre-dinner cocktail a few nights prior when i had
nothing else to offer. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">so while i
think i cannot be blamed for all weird things i do, i took this as a sure sign
that it is time for me to move and to finally get my life back on track. just
remember that next time you find yourself alone, drinking malibu on ice – as
sweet as it tastes, it ain’t a good thing. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-20891933742227690112014-03-06T08:52:00.001+02:002014-03-06T08:52:57.286+02:00yoga class with johnny cash.
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">when you feel a
bit stuck and uninspired for a long time it is a good idea to try something new
to shake things up. like, i don't know…move to another country. if like me you
have already set the wheels in motion for such a move but still feel a bit meh,
i recommend yoga. for as long as it takes. once it took a month. a month during
which i didn't do anything but sat on my couch and watched tv and only left
said couch once a day for a bikram class. in this case i made the decision to
move after this month was over and that's when i came to cape town, but somehow
the yoga and the shaking things up and the move all seem connected to me in one
way or another. you will understand my frustration that right now i am not only
feeling stuck and uninspired and ungrateful - because really what a moron am i
not to enjoy my last summer weeks in cape town? - but on top of it yoga is not
helping. i don't like the classes here, there is not enough bikram classes, and
whenever i go and try to let go, i get annoyed anyhow. i know those nobody’s
issues but my own to sort out, but still…</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">a plan formed
when i realized that lent has started. i am not catholic and while i know
plenty of non-catholics that just use it as a time to kick a bad habit at least
temporary, i have always been a bit at loss as to what that could be for me. i
don’t really eat much chocolate so 40 days without would be no challenge
whatsoever. no wine for 40 days i simply wouldn’t make and why should i set
myself out to fail? </span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">so i found <a href="http://www.berrydiaries.com/2014/03/40-days-on-my-yoga-mat-challenge.html">this post</a> on berry diaries yesterday and was immediately intrigued. what a genius
idea instead of eliminating something negative from your life (and that would
be the second issue with not drinking wine – wine is of course never negative,
so it doesn’t count) add something positive each day like spending at least 10
minutes on your yogamat. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">maybe i need 40
days and a few different time zones of yoga this time to shake things up. we
will see. but i am excited. i will even attempt to post a toe selfie of my toes
on mat every day on instagram and i while i made a hashtag #40daysonmymat don’t
hold me to it, i am even worse at <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">instagramming</i>
than i am at not drinking wine.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">however here is
day 1:</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7eElIk3p1wlwf84of9QdV9Ati9MwJzPwH5nNaChzSO6cZSPc1uSEOYRJVOunCqyMr70FuW6cxqa5BauH8js-kzhQMb04twxzkA6Sv-a_I9ZhXGhNfq5Ye3XmSVt2yQtFbSVSG2PAMvnk/s1600/yoga+toes.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7eElIk3p1wlwf84of9QdV9Ati9MwJzPwH5nNaChzSO6cZSPc1uSEOYRJVOunCqyMr70FuW6cxqa5BauH8js-kzhQMb04twxzkA6Sv-a_I9ZhXGhNfq5Ye3XmSVt2yQtFbSVSG2PAMvnk/s1600/yoga+toes.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">10 minutes of
sun salutations to johnny cash. i don’t like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">yogi</i> music and he did bring a good rhythm to my breathing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">please do
excuse the state of my toes and my mat.</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-85603553980668984522014-02-17T17:41:00.001+02:002014-02-17T17:41:22.212+02:00for the love of words.
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">today i helped my friend’s 11
year old daughter with her homework. she was asked to write a descriptive
paragraph on the subject <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“arrival at
midnight”. </i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>while her spelling, just
like mine, isn’t the greatest she uses the best words and descriptions. she
wrote her paragraph about a girl who comes home to find the house in the dark
and a banging sound that scares her. she realizes that it is only a tree branch
against the window, but still cannot turn on the lights and gets scared.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>i added my two cents and so the girl ends up
running out of her house to find her electrician and fire him, because how
useless is he? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">yes, i know, it doesn’t make much
sense and i blame the heat, but we had such a laugh and were quite chuffed with
our “clever” ending to the story.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">it reminded me of how much i
actually love words. lately i have had little joy with them. i haven’t read
much and didn’t finish the books i started, which always makes a bit sad. i
have written even less and it feels like a constant looming task. i even
thought of giving my little blog a break for a while. i just feel lazy and so
disconnected to words lately – surely it shouldn’t be that much work to write?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">but doing this homework with her,
searching for round descriptions and pretty words, coming up with a storyline
even just for a paragraph, and then ending it with absurdity and giggles – it
felt amazing. it reminded me why i love words and why i love writing and that
it is nothing to be scared of, not something i have to do, but something to be
enjoyed and savoured. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">i was asked last week for my
recipe against writer’s block and i really couldn’t think of anything smart to
add to the discussion except to say: just write. sounds simple enough and like
a paradox at the same time. but really to write anything helps me – a grocery
list, a to-do list, a sentence with words that all start with A, a paragraph of
a little girl who fires her electrician…<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">when i can get myself to write anything at
all, it usually starts to flow and i get reminded that words are my most
beloved friends.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-59819139309942803482014-02-05T10:06:00.001+02:002014-02-05T15:10:02.635+02:00butterflies. <br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
ko phi phi or ko tao?<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
for those of you who know thailand, you will know
that it is really a choice between paradise or paradise. and i'm omitting any pictures to not make it worse. i also admit it
is a complete first world problem, but also the most urgent
question on my mind these days. don't hate me.<o:p></o:p></div>
and not to make anybody green with envy but i
just booked a flight to bangkok and from bangkok to hamburg with a month
holiday inbetween. and yeah…i am sort of very excited about it.<o:p></o:p><br />
that wasn't the case last weekend. last weekend i
was a nut job not being able to decide where and how i wanted to spend my
holiday, driving myself a little bit crazy. as i do from time to time. yes,
again first world problem ... having options. and then luckily i had
a very productive sunday and it all fell into place.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
yesterday i booked my flight, my tour, and part
of my accommodation - <a href="http://anysroad.blogspot.com/2013/03/hotel-dreaming.html">here</a>, because how can i not? - and all of a
sudden i felt excited. i haven't felt excited in a good way in a really long
time. butterflies. i had them, but the negative butterflies, the anxiety butterflies.
if you ever had proper anxiety attacks you will know how great if feels to just
not have them, to just be okay. to say goodbye to the butterflies.<o:p></o:p></div>
but quite frankly i have also been just okay for
a long time, i haven't been really happy or curious or excited in a positive
way for a while. that sucks too. and i feel bad for it, which i guess makes
matters worse, especially when i'm around friends. i feel like this non-person,
the odd one out. and i don't want to be, i don't mean to offend anyone, but i
guess it's part of a natural process when you plan a big move. you start
detaching yourself so it will hurt less when the time comes. which is all well
and good, but in reality it sucks because i end up spending too much time
watching grey's anatomy re-runs by myself and i think i may regret it. <o:p></o:p><br />
that was till i booked my holiday. for the first
time in a long time felt butterflies, that weren't anxiety butterflies, but the
kind that you want. the kind that spell falling in love, adventure, and great
wonderful excitement. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
so with that - please someone share my
butterflies and help me decide between paradises. <o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-11089595909646147532014-01-30T16:51:00.000+02:002014-01-30T16:51:07.921+02:00a life in style. or so i thought.
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">yesterday i stumbled across <a href="http://www.everywhereist.com/how-not-to-make-a-crostata/">this awesome post</a> from geraldine and it hit home. as people who have a blog
(wouldn’t want to say “as bloggers” or “as writers” because that sounds really
pretentious and sort of asshole-y) and people in general we constantly need to
define ourselves. or at least that’s what the world wants us to do. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">little boxes on the hill side…</i> the one
and only time i ever put my little blog up for any sort of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">best of</i> i had a hard time choosing a box that i wanted to be the
best of. in the end i think i chose the humour box, which turned out to be the
wrong one, because while people tell me i’m funny, i apparently don’t fit into
the humour/haha funny box. or maybe i wasn’t funny enough. thekla told me
afterwards i should have chosen the lifestyle category for my blog. mpfh. i of
course liked the idea better that i was simply in the wrong box than the box i
was in didn’t like me, but was too late in any case so i just didn’t think
about it anymore. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">so i read geraldine’s post about
how she not a lifestyle blogger, but how she wanted to give it a go and
attempted to make a crostata and document the whole process. now that was
something i can relate to. sort of. i thought crostata was something like a
crostini, i definitely didn’t take it for some kind of pie. my bad. her not
reading the recipe and thus not having all the ingredients is also something i
can relate. i would make a bad lifestyle blogger because i never use recipes to
begin with. it already drove one ex-boyfriend insane, i can only imagine what
it would do to a lifestyle blogger’s readership. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">so as you can read her crostata
making wasn’t<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>going so well, but there
was lots of liquor involved and a failed attempt at caramel making, both things
i can appreciate too. let’s just remember the <a href="http://anysroad.blogspot.com/2011/02/fish-cake-incident.html">fish cake incident of 2011</a> and
the<a href="http://anysroad.blogspot.com/2012/04/four-days.html"> easter egg shaped macarons</a> for a moment. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">so that’s why i adore her.
sometimes i need aspiration and sometimes i want to relate and just know that
thank god there are others out there like me. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">and don’t get me wrong – i love
lifestyle blogs, in fact most blogs i read can probably be labelled accurately
as such. i love them, not in an ironic way, but in a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">i truly</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">love to read about
this person’s life</i> way. i find it inspiring. i would like to be such an
inspiration for others too maybe. but there comes the time when i have to admit
a life with a certain style a lifestyle blogger doesn’t make. my toe nails
might be painted nicely, but there is nothing picture worthy about the process;
to be honest it’s quite gross. and while i do enjoy wearing and buying nice
clothes, i don’t have a significant other who will take decent pictures of me
in my nice clothes. neither do i have a child trustworthy enough that i would
hand it my canon or any child at all for that matter. actually i hate to have
my picture taken ALWAYS and if you tell me to stand up straight, tuck my ribs,
pull my belly in, and lift my chin, that’s the face you get:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg95cDoq2RDTXagCT3ZjGF-_sXSPXuJOdjeXXt84nOkMUpjt8wyfe_SgVYqGE9ntJNrNEcY8Fu0rjfVpHvL35qg82gJ5rmHiUSQ-vcCeY5zWfBkYDlJOcFV8s58Yo3Abl0vwtoT9sXOMADM/s1600/IMG_5314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg95cDoq2RDTXagCT3ZjGF-_sXSPXuJOdjeXXt84nOkMUpjt8wyfe_SgVYqGE9ntJNrNEcY8Fu0rjfVpHvL35qg82gJ5rmHiUSQ-vcCeY5zWfBkYDlJOcFV8s58Yo3Abl0vwtoT9sXOMADM/s1600/IMG_5314.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">thank you, thekla, my wonderful
friend. no, i am not being sarcastic, the others turned out wonderful, but were
quite a bit of work and if i had to pose for pictures on a daily basis i would
be a proper alcoholic. now you will rightly say that a lot of lifestyle
bloggers don’t pose in their shots, they are just being <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">snapped</i>. yeah, well, those girls don’t have a double chin problem
and uneven arm skin tones.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">one of my favourite with no such
issues is <a href="http://bleubirdblog.com/">james from bluebird</a>. she and her husband are the quintessential
hipsters. but really original hipsters, not just someone who lives in brooklyn
and wears a beard that doesn’t suit him. no, she bakes bread and cake, she has
chickens in her garden, homeschools her 4 kids, and still always looks fabulous
and wears essie nail polish in awesome shades. i get tired when i have to do
homework with my friend’s daughter for 10 minutes so i really don’t know how
she does it and then some.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">another must have if you are a
lifestyle bloggers are series or features and a blogging calendar. yes, we all
know how my attempts at having series worked out and if i don’t even find the
time to stick to my series, i wouldn’t know where to find time to make
calendar. sorry. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">if i had a calendar and would
have looked at it, i would have noticed that i did already write about the fact
that i don’t have a lifestyle blog. in fact i wrote about it in such detail
that i named my blog<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">random, somewhat funny blog with stories
about wine, pasta, yoga and failed dates.</i> but i don’t have a calendar;
otherwise i would also know that i have probably already blogged about the fact
that i frequently write the same posts twice. that’s how not organized and
unscheduled i am. and i am aware that is a big no-no for a lifestyle blogger
and i can wear all the hip orange/red lipstick and hair buns in the world it
wouldn’t make up for it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">so no, i am not a lifestyle
blogger and probably won’t ever be. i’m just me in my little box full of
random, somewhat funny stories about wine, pasta, yoga and failed dates. and as
long as there are some others who are in equal random boxes i am okay with
that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-37058126528394406182014-01-20T11:36:00.000+02:002014-01-20T11:36:24.434+02:00let go or be dragged.
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“let go or be dragged.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">this is a zen proverb that i came
across sometime, somewhere last week. i have had it on my mind ever since. i
think letting go of things is my biggest problem. actually not things. while i
started to go through my flat, preparing for the move, i found it really easy
to put things into the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">to give away pile.
</i>things were always easy. experiences, thoughts, people, ideas – letting go
of those is a whole other story. letting go always seems to indicate loss to
me. i never could see the benefit of non-attachment, well, maybe in theory but
not in actual praxis. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">that was till i read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">let go or be dragged</i>. how simple. how
clear. with an immediate benefit of letting go right there, no waiting for what
was at the end of the letting go rainbow. being dragged sucks. being dragged
reeks of a bad guy tied to a lasso who is dragged behind a good cowboy on his
horse. who would want that? it looks like it may hurt as hell and you get your
clothes torn and your face dirty, not even to mention that one probably feels
quite embarrassed too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">mind you i am not sure how much i
am actually achieving of the letting go quite yet, but it has become my little
mantra for now. so here i am, trying to let go of…<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">… my anxiety.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">… 5kgs of body weight…and the
need to even lose those 5kgs at all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">… my worries about my dad.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">… my anger at my friend and the
desire to walk up to him, shake him, and demand an answer as to why he is
ignoring me.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">… my love for wheat.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">… my laziness and
procrastination.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">… my demand for perfection of
myself and others. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">… my monday grumpiness that
sometimes gets me at any given day of the week.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">i’m sure there is more. but i am
starting with no 7 because my own demand for perfection seems to be the basis
for quite a few other things i need to let go of, so why not start there and
see how the list changes and hopefully shrinks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">what do you need to let go of?
what is dragging you down?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-6138341912727209342014-01-07T18:24:00.001+02:002014-01-07T18:24:25.425+02:00homecoming crying queen.<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
i'm not well right now. i had
actually planned a post about how i wasn't quite well after i
returned and that one made a whole lot of more sense, but then i got
a whole lot worse in one day and the post seemed redundant.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
i used to suffer from anxiety
attacks a few years back. with the help of some anti-depressants and
therapy i got it all under control and the only thing that remained
was the fear that the anxiety might return. worst thing ever – fear
of fear. actually well, right now i might argue with that.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
the break-in really shook me up. i
forgot this very scary feeling of having my place robbed and my
privacy invaded over christmas chocolates and family drama though.
but then it came all back to me when i was at my mum's and actually
had some time to reflect. new year's eve brought tears and
revelations, not all bad, but definitely not great either.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
and then i had to go back, house
sit at a house that as much as i love to visit scares me when i'm
there alone, face work, and today face going back to my little flat.
while that may not seem a big deal to some, it is a big deal to me
right now. it is such a big deal that i am bawling my eyes out,
sometimes sobbing so much that i can't have a drink from my beer
without knocking the bottle on my teeth. the little girl in me wants
to do nothing more than take the grown-up girl's credit card and
passport and book a flight back to germany and crawl up on my mum's
lap. but the grown-up girl can't do that. she has responsibilities
and stuff to take of and sort the life she is leaving and the life
she wants to build. and as it turns out she is completely overwhelmed
by it all.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
why i am writing about myself in
the third person i have no idea. maybe i need to detach a bit. i
really don't want to sound pretentious. i think you must be a douche
to refer to yourself in the third person, so i apologize for sounding
like one right now.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
yesterday when it got really bad i
was on my way to my cousin in hout bay and while driving i was trying
really hard to keep it together. when i arrived she came downstairs
to my car to greet me, something she has never done before, i usually
just go up to the house. she hugged me and asked me how i was and
when i just started crying and stammering she just hugged me harder,
got a friend of hers to write me a script for some ativan while her
daughter made me a cup of tea. to everybody else in the house she
just said <i>annika is a little fragile right now.</i> no big deal.
how much do i love my family where things like anxiety and depression
and sobbing for no reason are no big deal. they are a part of life.
they are normal and you find ways to live with them and try to make
them better. sometimes way includes tea, sometimes medication,
sometimes wine and a big bowl of pasta. sometimes you just to cry for
a bit. and sometimes for a bit longer and just knowing that that's
also okay.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
on my way back my amazing family
continued to be amazing when i went to my uncle's house to drop of
his suitcase he had let me borrow for my trip. i told him a little
bit about my afternoon, got teary eyed once again, and told him that
i had to go back to the house i didn't want to be at to housesit. in
addition to giving me a glass of whiskey – the really good one, so
i knew he was worried about me – he simply refused to let me go. he
told me i would spend the night, no debating. then he drove me to the
house and watered the garden while i packed all my things. in the
evening he moved into his office to sleep so i could be comfy and
feel safe next to my aunt.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
this morning i was still feeling a
bit anxious, but also a whole lot of grateful. i have a lot on my
plate now and it is okay to feel overwhelmed with that. i will
manage. i have support from all sides. and even more important i know
that it is okay to sometimes feel like that. c'est la vie.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
p.s. i have wholeheartedly claimed
back my flat. i bought flowers, sprayed my favorite linen spray
everywhere, celebrated the things that got not stolen, and the fact
that my basil survived while the nasty vietnamese coriander
miraculously died. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-83694923020627085512013-12-29T18:51:00.002+02:002013-12-29T18:51:53.739+02:00new year, new life.<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
everybody still alive after <strike>too</strike>
so much family time? how many kilos have you gained?
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
after my attempt to eat little to
no wheat for the last few weeks, i must admit that my proudest
achievement was not only baking my very first brioche, but eating the
whole damn thing too. of course shared with the siblings, but there
was enough to go around.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
now i am at my mum's and have
enough time and quietness to contemplate the next, the last few
months in cape town and the time after. i was more than thrilled to
get a flight to bangkok from my dad for christmas and jumped straight
into planning a nice little thailand trip when my mum gave me the
book <i>das grosse los. </i><span style="font-style: normal;">a german
journalist wins euro 500 000 at </span><i>who wants to be a
millionaire </i><span style="font-style: normal;">and decides to
travel for a year, the way i think travelling should be done: living
in a foreign city for one month each. her trip starts in sydney and
immediately i am not only hooked on the book, but a little voice in
my head starts to complain </span><i>stupid trip you have planned, 3
weeks thailand – phew, why can </i></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<i>never live in sydney for a month?
and buenos aires? hello!! and and and...</i></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; widows: 8;">
the travellers
amongst you, will understand where i am coming from. in the end or at
least right now it is not where i will go or for how long. it is
about going. and leaving. and arriving. about finally moving again
after feeling stuck for so long.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; widows: 8;">
the book
starts with the famous mark twain quote: <i>in 20 years you won't
regret the things you did, but the things you didn't do. </i>and that
shall be my motto for 2014. what is yours?</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; widows: 8;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; widows: 8;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<ol>
<li><div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
the
masterpiece.</div>
</li>
<li><div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
orchids
and angels. i was mesmerized by this orchid on my dad's window sill.
its abundance reminded me of the orchids in thailand and made such a
beautiful foreign contrast to our old, little choir angels.</div>
</li>
<li><div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
sunrise
porn brought to you by germany.</div>
</li>
<li><div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
i had to
open a bottle of pink bubbly, because i needed a picture of bubbly
for another story. it wasn't just for fun, it was work bubbly. but
would have been a waste not to drink it afterwards.</div>
</li>
<li><div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
a
not so pretty part of town, but the blue little house used to be
home to the best second hand shop in the world. the owner <i>frau
knote </i>used to have an attic
full of chanel gowns, baccarat vases, and c<span style="color: #343434;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">ourrèges</span></span><span style="color: #343434;"><span style="font-family: ArialMT, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"><b>
</b></span></span></span>jerseys.
the one thing i will truly miss from my stolen suitcase is a little
blazer jacket i bought from her and wore every day for almost a
year.</div>
</li>
<li><div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
christmas
market the day after. </div>
</li>
</ol>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-52865823921397857242013-12-21T09:24:00.001+02:002013-12-21T09:24:16.618+02:00happy new year came early.<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
hello, germany! i have arrived.
after all the drama yesterday, 2 double g&ts, 11 hours on a
plane, and finally watching <i>kevin, home alone</i>, i am in munich.
tired, but with a freshly washed face, so you could call me sort of
fit. i have also stopped going through my lost suitcase in my mind,
recalling what was in there so i can mourn what i have lost. there is
really no point to it. the worst part is my little flat. that flat
that always felt like a safe haven to me, is no more and i think that
is the worst. but i shall deal with it when i get back. now is
christmas.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
hello, anybody awake yet? anyone
except for the vietnamese baby on the table next to me who just slid
of the chair when his mum wasn't watching and who hit his head on the
table in the process and is now crying like there is no tomorrow? or
the guy on my left who must be battling with his soft boiled egg,
because really, i have never heard anybody trying to break into a
soft boiled egg that loudly.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
so, ja, no one really that i would
want to talk with. so instead i am writing the obligatory year end
review. what happened in 2013?</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
the truth is that for the most
part i felt like a victim. i felt like things that weren't all that
great happened all the time and one after another. an attempt at something sort of a relationship that didn't work and the loneliness that follows. some
health problems. writer's block. my car's window smashed enough times
to make me feel uncomfortable where i live. a growing discomfort with
my life in general in cape town. some work related anxiety. loosing
my friend and teacher sy to reasons i still can't comprehend. my dad
almost dying. i felt teary for the most part of the last few months.
my flat broken in to and i had to learn the lesson that christmas
really isn't about presents the hard way. mind you i knew that. it
never was about presents for me, but my good thoughts for other
people, materialized and gift wrapped. now i am sitting here at the
airport and i'm almost home. and i think bad things do happen to good
people. that is life. and of course, not all was bad. but over all
this is the feeling i get when i look back. but now, today i am sick
and tired of feeling like a victim. so what 2013 wasn't a great here.
i won't complain. i will make the changes necessary inside and out
and immediately, because i don't want to feel like this anymore.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
the sun is rising next to me
through the fog, literally. and i decide today to already say <i>happy
new year!</i></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-4538026806516169432013-12-20T17:52:00.002+02:002013-12-20T17:52:26.834+02:00the airport post.<div style="text-align: justify;">
i wanted to write you this typical airport/christmas post. maybe reminisce a bit, reflect on the year past and the year ahead. you know the usual.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
but then i came back this morning to my flat broken in to and my suitcase with all christmas gifts stolen, so now i am on my second double g&t and not that coherent anymore. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
in case you are wondering, yes you read correctly. i came back over lunch from work to pack the salt that was supposed to go into the orange le creuset salt holder for my dad to find the orange le creuset salt holder and the suitcase it was in and everything else gone. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
GONE.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
i cried and waited for the police for two hours and i am sorry to say i am especially done with this country at the moment. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
but then again i have also experienced the incredible friendliness of people, strangers some of them. like when my neighbour gave me a bag with christmassy things…i don't know what it is exactly, but she gave it to me to take to my family so i would have at least something to give them.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
or my uncle who forwent his nap and came and hung out while i waited for the police and even took me a spare suitcase so i could pack some spare non-winterey clothes to take with.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
or the thief that was stupid enough to leave my laptop in the middle of my lounge table or the jewellery that means the world to me on the kitchen counter.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
nah, scratch the last one. i'm still so upset all my christmas presents are gone. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
but as only two double g&t's can paint things rosy, my post from yesterday still stands. it is just stuff. trimmings. pretty, but ultimately…things. replaceable. nothing like a dad alive who is awaiting me tomorrow or my passport safe in my hand to get me to him.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
happy holidays.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-11642208797184395452013-12-19T17:11:00.000+02:002013-12-19T17:11:24.957+02:00a christmas story. or two. or three.
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">you know that i
am a sucker for christmas. though it usually gets stressful around this time of
the year, i love presents and always have ever since i got a barbie that came
with her own bottle of fragrance. a bottle with a pink bow on top to close it
and a heavenly smell. well, at least for a ten year old. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">another year, i
remember well, i got a new bed for christmas. it was a bunk bed for one person
with a desk attached and enough space underneath to play. my parents had set it
all up in the lounge for me and how excited was i when my mother allowed me to
sleep downstairs. thirty-something stuffed animals had to be brought down in
addition to pillows and blanket and when i was finally happily sitting on my
bed it … squeaked. loud enough to concern my father who had built it and no, i
couldn't sleep in that bed, something was wrong! how i convinced them, by
tantrum or smiles, i don't know, but he and my brother took the entire bed
apart and rebuild it in my room the same evening. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifeobo2xqPP-T76XPhy-mt2wrixNoOrFbpUd2aNoM6dmqkPzkuj1Vmt3FJvMLLUYxQQ8y7-zR13poSEIXZ1I6s5Qwaag3Is2NdFF-2xqntHAaEN15M8uAHv0vylELbktaEdtiy-DiDAkN9/s1600/anysroad+christmas+annika+ziehen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifeobo2xqPP-T76XPhy-mt2wrixNoOrFbpUd2aNoM6dmqkPzkuj1Vmt3FJvMLLUYxQQ8y7-zR13poSEIXZ1I6s5Qwaag3Is2NdFF-2xqntHAaEN15M8uAHv0vylELbktaEdtiy-DiDAkN9/s640/anysroad+christmas+annika+ziehen.jpg" width="446" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">these days it
is not so much about presents for myself, but i actually love giving gifts. i
think there is nothing more wonderful than finding that perfect gift for
someone you love and you can already see what their face will look like when
they open it. this year i have already declared to 3 different people that they
are getting the bestest gift of all and i mean it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">we had
beautiful christmases when i was little. well, of course there were the odd
ones out like the year when ariadne, our dalmatian, ate the entire goose. or
the year when my dad forgot to buy champagne and then decanted a beautiful 20
year old bottle of red which was corked. there was also the year when my
brother and i were left in charge of decorating the tree and decided to make a
chic, all black, gucci tree and hung black cassette tapes instead of tinsel on
it. let's just say gucci is not a good look for a christmas tree. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">but overall our
christmases were wonderful. i would watch <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">the
last unicorn</i>, we would go to church, and then my parents would ring a bell
in the lounge, announcing that the children could come inside for presents.
first there would be some singing, then a champagne toast, and then i would be
led to my pile first because back then there were no grandkids around yet and
as the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">nesthäkchen</i> i was entitled to
go first.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">my parents made
us never wait and sit through dinner before presents. i'm still grateful for
that. it also meant more peace on the dinner table afterwards. our traditional
dinner is a bit of a funny one and i actually don't know how it came along but
we would always have herring salad and smoked salmon with baguette. eventually
foie gras was introduced and in recent years my dad always makes a ragout fin
in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">pastetchen</i> as a starter. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">after dinner
lazy family that we are, we would change out of our holiday finest and put on
our pjs and watch tv. i wish i could tell you that we played board games and
told stories and danced around the tree or whatever else other families do, but
that would be a lie. we would eat chocolate truffles and watch sissi reruns. it
was fabulous. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">the morning of
the 25<sup>th</sup> i would usually be the first up and sneak downstairs. the
lounge would be cold with a nice smell of candles hanging in the air. i would
snuggle up next to my new toys and watch cartoons and probably eat some more
chocolates too. after all anything goes for christmas breakfast. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">the same ritual
each year… until my parents got divorced. then everything changed. mind you i
was a grown-up and i guess it shouldn't have mattered. but you know what? it
always matters regardless of your age. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">my brother
started to celebrate christmas with his own family and my mother, well, turns
out she doesn't care all that much about christmas after all. i went back home
every year to celebrate with my dad. one of my sisters would join us, sometimes
an aunt, usually one of his friends who was also alone. it would be a somewhat
odd assortment. and while i know that it is probably a good christmas spirit to
bring people together who have nobody else and my dad made it really nice for
us, it never felt quite the same again for me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">i started to
long. to long for a christmas like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">kevin,
home alone</i> minus the kevin being actually home alone part. a christmas with
big chaotic house full of a gazillion people, full of family – laughing,
fighting, eating on long tables.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">i found this
here in cape town. the big chaotic house, the long tables, more kids than one
can keep count of or possibly name the family relation to, the laughing, the
fighting. i loved it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">my dad who has
visited me a few times loved it too. this year was supposed to be no exception
but then everything changed with his heart surgery. we are returning to a small
christmas at home. part of me still longs for that big celebration in the sun.
the other part of me is exchanging recipe and gift ideas with my brother and my
sister. my dad has ordered a christmas tree and told me i am in charge of
decorating, he can only watch and drink wine this year. this part of me has
bought and wrapped all the presents just in time and is now praying for the
suitcase gods that it will close. this part of me is happy to have a dad to
celebrate christmas with, because that is the one thing i have learned this
year, that actually nothing else matters. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-44362353648306606442013-12-12T22:25:00.001+02:002013-12-12T22:26:31.234+02:00the big life.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVuqFKZEB9V4bUQIcrfMUCg7WExuPzFAp6gMRe-HQ74QA7gKhD6Qm6X23G2rZfdy5Uj8sMgfwpo9guEOyETxSrpUxY9DIovlfzPYsP6RtPzno6W-PlLLM_6pStx5GWEyj0Qrcn7Tl3EXI_/s1600/beach+at+night.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVuqFKZEB9V4bUQIcrfMUCg7WExuPzFAp6gMRe-HQ74QA7gKhD6Qm6X23G2rZfdy5Uj8sMgfwpo9guEOyETxSrpUxY9DIovlfzPYsP6RtPzno6W-PlLLM_6pStx5GWEyj0Qrcn7Tl3EXI_/s640/beach+at+night.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<i><span style="color: #1d1d1d;">“</span><span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">there
is no passion to be found in playing small in settling for a life
that is less than the one you are capable of living. “</span></span></i></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">what
wonderful, beautiful words these are. and how hard are they to
manifest if you are not madiba. or someone similarly fabulous. but
then again, isn't that what he is saying – that we should all be
<i>that</i> amazing.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">i
am so tired of my life as it is right now. and yes, i know on the
grand sceme of things that is ungrateful and petty and my own
problem, my own fault at the end of the day.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">i
found the picture above tonight and while a bit cheesy, it seems to sum up what i am
longing for right now. my feet in warm sand and sparkling light over my head
and someone to laugh with, to hug me hard, and kiss me even harder.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">the
nasty, enticing smell of a big city after a hot summer rain.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">the adhan. spices in my nostrils.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">the
exhaustion that sets in after a day of exploring a new world.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">freezing
cold and the knowledge that your skin glows in the light of candles
and the vapors of mulled wine. whenever i used to come home after a
night out with friends in winter, everything was so quiet, it felt like i was
the last person on earth and it was equally scary and welcoming at
the same time.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">i long for the smells
that have been the same since childhood. that are so familiar and so
new because now i'm a grown-up.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">the
smell of jasmine and the noise of traffic.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">seeing
animals i have only ever seen in books before.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">not
being able to sleep because the crickets are so loud.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">speaking
3 words of a foreign language but being understood.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">speaking
my mother tongue and being understood.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">making
new friends amongst old.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">surprising myself.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">laughing at myself.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">laughing out loud.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">being
able to say i don't want to let you go. being able to let go.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">being
scared and brave about the same thing and at the same time.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">making
new friends and feeling immediately 'arrived'.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">rain
and darkness.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">summer
heat. snow flakes on my skin melting.</span></span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">feeling
alive again.</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span style="font-family: LucidaGrande;">living
that big life that i am meant to live.</span></span></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-87890294259731257282013-12-09T09:03:00.000+02:002013-12-09T09:03:30.920+02:00hunger for freedom.
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">this weekend i felt a bit sad. it
started with friday morning when i woke up to the news of madiba’s passing. on
thursday when he actually died i was eating <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">dicke
bohnen</i>, my uncle’s recipe du jour, and they were delicious. i gave him an
11 out of 10 and he was quite chuffed. in hindsight i would have expected to
know. i mean not some sort of hunger games bang, but i would assume something
in the universe changes when someone like him dies and that you would feel that
change immediately somehow. well, apparently not, i was just happily eating my <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">dicke bohnen </i>and woke up to the news
instead while reading facebook in bed. a bad habit by the way that is on my new
year’s list to break.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">so friday i felt sad and i had a
full day’s of casting and that never helps to lighten the mood. except when a
very handsome runner told me that he was also a swimmer and was wearing a
speedo underneath and would i care to see him in that? there were times in my
life when i would have taken him on this offer, but as i was sad i didn’t even
care. also we didn’t need any swimmers and why waste my time on seeing a
gorgeous man half naked.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">saturday it was my friend’s
birthday breakfast which we celebrated at kirstenbosch and it couldn’t have
been more beautiful. i actually took some photos and will slot them in here
soon.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">for the rest of the weekend i was
sad again. I am longing for home right now. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">as much as i want to put all my
enthusiasm into my last cape town months, i can’t. i just want to be home
already, dark and cold or not. so yes, a major case of grass is greener on the
other side. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">in addition i am starting to feel
stressed out about the move, organizing, selling things, sorting stuff…all the things
i am usually very good at, i mean i get paid for this! – it is stressing me
out. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">to be proactive i decided on an
early shopping marathon on sunday and i must proudly say that i now have 75% of
all gifts and i got them in less than two hours. afterwards i was knackered.
how i used to shop for a living in new york i do not know. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNuaMgwXUpWJ7pCIfT6ZuYl2Z8FsloBI-Cn27QCHIn0hvBhj7LlkFiLrnIu3KLfD3HvYNl-9h6FLywjV0z2M4Nd7WY5hRpcizV4YFZgFkujpbnJNRhUaaU7kUKosYboLYq3E7tkFadwqj/s400/9781431402977.jpg" width="371" /></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">by the way if you are still looking
for a great gift for a food fan, i can highly recommend <strong><em><a href="http://www.exclus1ves.co.za/books/Hunger-for-Freedom--AuthorAnna-Trapido/000000000100000000001000000000000000000000000009781770095656/">hunger for freedom</a></em></strong> by
anna trapido. i saw her a few years back at the toffie food festival where she
presenting a somewhat interactive journey through madiba’s life via the food he
used to eat and the stories about it. some stories funny, some sad, some yummy,
some thought provoking, all incredible moving. i must admit that the book has
been long on my <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">i want</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">to have</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">i want to give</i> lists, but in light of recent events it seems
especially timely to remind of an incredible man who even has incredible tales
to tell about the food he ate.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-64420076673115518852013-12-02T13:27:00.000+02:002013-12-02T13:27:29.966+02:00on the art of writing and eating haribo smurfes.
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">my friend julia
told me on skype the other day that i was very funny after i made some sort of
clever remark and she burst out laughing. that was nice to hear. i trust her
judgment above most; definitely more than my own and lately i have not been
feeling very funny. i have not been feeling very ... anything at all really.
most days i would prefer to stay in bed and once i am out of bed i would prefer
to be back inside or at least have a blanket with me that i can pull over my
head. not that there is a good reason for it, because everything is just freakin'
fine. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">the past month
has been rough. while my dad is recovering nicely and i managed to get from
feeling freaked out and completely overwhelmed to pretty normal, i now struggle
to get from feeling okay to feeling excited. excited about what? well, to tell
you the truth i am not picky at the moment, i would like to feel excited about
anything really. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">yesterday was
the first day i was getting somewhat excited about writing again. i didn't
exactly have a writer's block, but i was definitely unenthusiastic about
writing the last few weeks. but now i had to get down and dirty as i had some
assignments long overdue for the travelettes. i found my excitement while
writing about the khmer rouge and the killing fields and while that is
undoubtedly a bit weird to get excited about, i was happy to have the mojo
back. and though it may sound even weirder, i think i wrote one of my best
stories yet. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">now i feel like
all i want to do is write. funny stories, sad stories, fragmented words,
coherent dreams. okay, well i don't think i ever had a coherent dream in my
life, but you know what i mean. i write right now after too much rosé, i think
about sentence structure in the shower, and i felt happiest today when i wrote
a little blog post for my company in german. yes, me, happy to write in german!
i know it is unheard of, but seeing my fingers fly over a keyboard is the only
thing that has brought me some level of positive emotion lately. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">i never really
told anyone but i was supposed to do <a href="http://nanowrimo.org/">nanowrimo</a> in november. that is basically
an online program with an online community that anybody can sign up for who has
the plan to write a book. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">i hate to admit
it, but yes, i am one of <i>these</i> bloggers - i want to write a book. there
is a handful of people who read all my stories and who keep on telling me that
i should write a book. complain to them, but for some silly reason i eventually
started to believe it. yeah...i'm a sucker. the only thing that has kept me so
far is my own lack of discipline and nothing else. so i thought nanowrimo was
the perfect outline to help me get organized and commit to writing 50.000 words
in november come rain or shine. well my november came with my dad almost dying
and that made me less productive than sunshine and no wind on a saturday
afternoon. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk3chKaeablfRMgRRjLQVbWydI201zkE18tPMHdFlwQQRbdy2R5tR6draPkLX77BoIXuoUbDfwDCCamyB01kNBmyAtZU_0ZNnC1N5PM7zNFRNLqfgNj-RSpVVG1a3uVoNsTaHlmcUAGy7u/s1600/desk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk3chKaeablfRMgRRjLQVbWydI201zkE18tPMHdFlwQQRbdy2R5tR6draPkLX77BoIXuoUbDfwDCCamyB01kNBmyAtZU_0ZNnC1N5PM7zNFRNLqfgNj-RSpVVG1a3uVoNsTaHlmcUAGy7u/s640/desk.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">i already had had
a post planned about my workstation at home. then i adapted and prepared a post
showing you my newfound workstation which was a fancy desk at my radisson hotel
room. but i realized that all i could manage to do was to eat wiener schnitzel
from room service and haribo smurfes and of course wash both down with copious
amounts of wine while watching <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">gute zeiten,
schlechte zeiten</i>. all i wrote in two weeks was text messages to my sister,
my brother, and my three best friends and sometimes even these were copied and
pasted. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">i wasn't able
to do anything else and i felt bad for it. i felt worse for it, because i had
signed up and tried and realized i couldn't cope. maybe some people can find an
input, an inspiration in absolute misery. i think it would actually be quite
great. but that wasn't me. my book wants to be funny and witty and clever. it
will need the right kind of light inspiration. seeing as my fingers are flying
right now, maybe it needs to be wine fueled, maybe it needs cape town sunshine,
and wind that drives me a bit mad. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">i am actually
not sure yet. </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">but i know it
will come when the time is right. till then i will enjoy eating smurfes and
just be happy that my dad and i both coped, even when there is no funny story
to prove it.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-31012102741858057412013-11-26T12:11:00.000+02:002013-11-26T12:11:44.692+02:00just do it.
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">this is going to be a <s>very</s> somewhat honest post about
me, my body, and my weight. if you are a guy, feel free to skip it. let's say
it is more of a topic that i think girls can relate to. unless you are like the
actor who plays finnick in the new hunger games movie, who apparently had major
issues after he was cast and torn to pieces by the media and normal people like
you and me for not being hot enough. in case you wonder, i think it is
bullshit. he is as hot and ripped as it gets and runs around shirtless for a
good part of the movie which makes it all the better. but that just shows that
it doesn’t matter how hot you actually are, female or male, you can still have
a warped body image. anyhow and either way, today is not an eating all the
pasta kind of post and you have been warned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">i was always quite okay with my body. i am blessed with my
mother's curves on top and cursed with her curves on the bottom. i started to
make peace with that ever since my first boyfriend wrote a song for me with a
line that said <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">she has the ass of a
goddess </i>and couldn't take his hands of my boobs. but it is an on-going
process that peace making business, but by now i’m good with myself on most
days. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">even on the days when i can’t remember any those sweet song
lyrics and am not too keen on my reflection in the mirror, i never care enough
to go on a diet, i always care more for pasta. when i quit smoking a few years
back however i was very concerned about gaining weight. eventually the concerns
about the smoking exceeded and i quit. let's say i didn't gain enough wait that
it jumps at you. or at least everybody was kind enough not to tell me should it
have been the case. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">but still my body has changed over the years. i am 34 now
and i can tell. if you want to insist and add a comment about silly beauty
ideals of thinness and stuff, go ahead, but this is not what i’m talking about.
i am curvy, i have always been, i will always be, and that is great. however i
have an ideal of my body. not an ideal of my 16 year old body, but of a body
that is the best it can be right now. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">i was close to that ideal when i was in vietnam. i ate only
rice noodles and sweated a lot and looked lean and fit – at least to my eyes
and that's what counts for me. i haven't been on a scale for years. i believe
in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">how do my pants feel?</i> rather than
a number. just as age is just a number, weight has always been just a number
for me too. when i came back i was so excited for the prospect of real pasta
and wine though that i did not only indulge for a day or two but for a few
weeks. then came my trip to germany and all bets were off. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">i'm not making excuses and neither am i beating myself up.
i'm just stating some facts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">yesterday i went to see a cardiologist. despite my yoga, i
have been feeling very out of breath lately, and after my dad was presenting
with some similar symptoms at the beginning of his illness, i thought i should
check it out. filling out a form which asked for my height, i filled in my go
to height as it says on my id and what i believe to be somewhat true. when it
asked for my weight, i put down the number that i last saw on a scale when i
weighed myself some odd years ago. as i still fit into clothes that are many
seasons old, i was convinced the number couldn't be that far off and even if,
what were the chances that i would be discovered?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">i was discovered and promptly proven wrong 20 minutes later.
on a positive note i actually am 1.74m and it wasn’t my wishful thinking.
hurrah. on a very different note i weigh 10kgs more than i thought i do and i
almost fainted when i looked at the scale. little did it help my mood that my
heart and lungs are apparently quite beautiful – doctor's words, not mine – and
very well-functioning. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">10kgs. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">and while she told me that my body weight and measurements
are all fine and i am healthy, i was shocked. shocked because i don't see the
body i want to see in the mirror anymore and now it has an official number to
it. now weight has become a number, a number that makes an impact on me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">of course i write this while i am drinking a glass or two of
wine, to dilute the shock and to salute my healthy heart. the irony is not lost
on me, but i know something has to change. i want something to change. i still
don't believe in dieting, but i believe in a proper diet. the good thing is
that i am not a snacker and i don't have a sweet tooth, but my weakness is
wheat and wine. i know what i have to do to change: more greens. less wheat.
even less sugars. smaller portions. less alcohol. more yoga. it’s actually
quite simple. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">don’t worry this is not going to become a fitness and
nutrition blog, i won’t show you before and after pictures, or bore you with talk
about kilograms ever again. i just had to share tody. now i will just be very Nike, shut up, and just do it.</span><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-81875360965832045452013-11-18T18:47:00.001+02:002013-11-18T18:47:47.205+02:00how i kicked a random monday's ass.
<br />
<br />
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
last week was a tricky one. i was
still feeling sick and thus didn't do any yoga, work was hectic and
then things went wrong and i almost got my anxiety back, and i had to
come to terms with the fact that the whole germany trip and the
situation with my dad still has be pretty shaken up.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
just to admit that last fact
already made it a bit better. breathing and looking objectively at my
work situation helped too. i also practised two full bikram classes
over the weekend and got at least started with my writing
assignments. so all and all, not bad after what i consider pretty
much a week from hell. but still not perfect as i was still dreading
work this week every moment.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
while i was lying on my mat
saturday i was thinking - i'm not supposed to think while on my mat -
but hey, sometimes i have some really such great thoughts and ideas
on my mat, i usually only get those under the shower. and since there
is only so much showering one can do in a day, i just ran with the
thought and didn't judge myself for inappropriate timing. i realized
that i am a really strong person. i can deal with stuff, i can handle
a lot of tricky situations. i may have some bad dreams, i may feel
shaky, i may cry, okay make that sob, at times, but i don't break. i
manage to get through things somehow. that thought was so fascinating
and so big in a way that i almost started crying again right then and
there on my mat.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
with that realization tightly
scribbled on an inner 'note to self' i decided yesterday, again while
i was on my mat, to not be scared of the week ahead. i decided to
take it full on, and kick ass.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="widows: 8;">
and i did. i kicked monday's ass
and wow what a feeling! with that in mind i'm wishing you a great
week too, kick whatever you need to kick.</div>
<br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5012556248663119688.post-39514260376481265372013-11-12T10:48:00.000+02:002013-11-12T10:48:14.453+02:00travelling home. two ways.<div style="text-align: justify;">
at this point i am comfortable to say that the only thing i like about the French is their macarons and their champagne.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
after 32 hours of travelling i made it back to cape town. the part when i ate all the ladurée macarons, my last euros could buy, and drank all the champagne at the business class lounge was fun. the part when i was stuck on the plane for an extra three hours at the airport till 2am wasn’t fun. neither the part when i subsequently missed my connecting flight and was put on another one that was also two hours late. and neither when this one was also stuck at the airport for another hour due to a dent, which may or may not have been caused by a poor little bird (captain’s words, not mine – fuck that bird!). did i mention that they put me in the last row, middle seat, and that air france managed to lose my luggage yet again?!<br />yeah, all so not fun and even the macarons barely made up for it. but as they did, i need to thank marie for telling me about the ladurée stand at the airport. i don’t think it would have even occurred to me to look for it, if she hadn’t told me.<br />so now i’m back and my luggage too with a little delay. i’m sick and exhausted, emotionally and physically. however i am happy to be back in the sun, with my solar powered fairy lights and a big pot of freshly grown basil on the balcony.<br />but for all of you who were hopeful that once i travelled back to cold, dark germany in the winter and would be inclined to change my mind about moving there, i have to disappoint you. despite the less than fortunate circumstances i liked it. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />i liked that the people in shops and restaurants were really friendly and generally knew what they were doing. a large number of girls sported an unfortunate choice of eyebrows (as in none, replaced by a black marker line), but while it made them look a bit scary, they were still all really friendly and i think it might only be a regional thing.<br /><br />oh how i loved that things run on time! except very busy surgeons when they meet you for dinner, but how often will that really become an issue in the future?!<br /><br />my nephew asked me when i was going to come visit him again (i didn’t get to see him this time around) and so i told him about my plans to move to hamburg where he lives. he was so freaking excited and just kept on asking <em>for real? like really? </em><br />so i have to move now before he turns into a snotty teenager who couldn’t give a damn about where his aunt lives. </div>
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but seriously i am also moving back for the love of pasta. i mean look at this…</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDmBVKqKnnG6hCKqSKDFbM8EbQRnABbbzmpSkv7yBN4FgUKkQbJEbDHJqqHCvNdVqPg8j3yYUmo96qxmYLiaAWMl4FiHqDDziz4jDkghbhB_qHdp3L5NOLPLHdIcZAJiGaoxIA9g0_gNeP/s1600/karstadt_leipzig.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDmBVKqKnnG6hCKqSKDFbM8EbQRnABbbzmpSkv7yBN4FgUKkQbJEbDHJqqHCvNdVqPg8j3yYUmo96qxmYLiaAWMl4FiHqDDziz4jDkghbhB_qHdp3L5NOLPLHdIcZAJiGaoxIA9g0_gNeP/s640/karstadt_leipzig.JPG" width="478" /></a></div>
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i almost cried when i saw the wall of pasta at karstadt and tried to figure out how i can take <strike>all</strike> some back. in the end i didn’t take any because my bag was full, but i have planned to return there immediately when i move back and buy <strike>all</strike> some of it.<br /><br />last but not least: germany is pretty when the skies are blue and yes, even in winter they sometimes are.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngjCDhzF4s5gOPrrH35A7oxs6NGW7s5kF0d697Ou4lZfvbIzJSzgzZnhLwE-e10zuQkG5wLT9-E6kqYeP9ELBwttFExWcAtwNDOifKtu0FR54sVgjZ4Q7x3oDdliXFmHyT5Lq-DSF1e34/s1600/leipzig+opernhaus.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngjCDhzF4s5gOPrrH35A7oxs6NGW7s5kF0d697Ou4lZfvbIzJSzgzZnhLwE-e10zuQkG5wLT9-E6kqYeP9ELBwttFExWcAtwNDOifKtu0FR54sVgjZ4Q7x3oDdliXFmHyT5Lq-DSF1e34/s640/leipzig+opernhaus.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfsxNibWbJfJxutyaCG0UkDVLUiwJCBPmwIXwLc8a1Nni7aY8Sz_NIRpjtVu4ywiGPNZOJDoBFtqg7qGnNgtfN1kVcRd3yQU6D5LLdxmRtq9BAugI1bkJHb7avnCldK-SPZKbVR3FdCJ8L/s1600/leipzig+university.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfsxNibWbJfJxutyaCG0UkDVLUiwJCBPmwIXwLc8a1Nni7aY8Sz_NIRpjtVu4ywiGPNZOJDoBFtqg7qGnNgtfN1kVcRd3yQU6D5LLdxmRtq9BAugI1bkJHb7avnCldK-SPZKbVR3FdCJ8L/s640/leipzig+university.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0