Samstag, 25. Mai 2013
Champions League Final
We have been thinking about our friends Tara and Tyler a lot lately and yesterday we figured out that we met almost three years ago and invited them over to watch yet another Champions League Final with us and friends. Well, Bayern München is - again - playing in the final match. Felix basically forced me to go for a run this morning so he could watch all press conferences peacufully.
Now he says he can imagine buying a Bayern shirt, as long as it is a Ribery one. So off we go to fan memorabilia frenzy.
Montag, 17. Dezember 2012
Heute morgen bin ich schon so hungrig aufgewacht, dass ich den ganzen Tag hätte essen können. Und das hab ich dann auch gemacht. Nur während der U-Bahn-Fahrt zu Helen nicht, da hab ich Herr Lehmann gelesen. Als ich am Abend nach Hause kam gab es Knödelgröstel und Reste vom Vortag und ich hab ein halbes Dutzend Freunde bei Facebook gelöscht. Man muss seine Vergangenheit echt hinter sich bringen.
Dienstag, 20. März 2012
Freitag, 2. Dezember 2011
Freitag, 2. Dezember 2011: Cellophantüten, Rotkohl und Jane Eyre
An diesem sonnigen Freitag verlasse ich das Büro um 13:34. Auf der Suche nach bunten Streuseln für mein Weihnachtskekse gehe ich zu Kustermann am Viktualienmarkt und kaufe Cellophantüten. Zellglasbeutel. An die kann ich mich noch von früher erinnern. Es gibt sie nur an Weihnachten und sie sind mit weihnachtlichen Motiven in Gold bedruckt. Außerdem schmecken sie komisch, wenn man sie in den Mund nimmt. Wenn man es als Kind einmal gemacht hat, muss man sie immer wieder probieren, um zu sehen, ob sie immer noch so schmecken. Diesmal hab ich es übrigens nicht gemacht. Ich vertraue darauf, dass sie immer noch den selben Geschmack haben. Sie liegen unzerknittert in ihrer Tüte. Die Streusel sind alle so blass. Die lasse ich im Laden, kaufe noch Zuckerringe. Blasse Streusel habe ich schon daheim. Dort angekommen mache ich mich an den ersten Rotkohlkopf. Ich habe zwei zu ungefähr 1,5 Kilo. Den ersten schneide ich schon mal in dünne Scheiben und mariniere ihn mit 8 EL Rotweinessig, Salz, Zucker, Zitronensaft und einem Schluck sauren Rotwein. Den haben wir wohl fürs VW-Bus ausleihen bekommen. Danke fürs Autoleihen. Grüße Merlin steht auf dem Etikett. Merlin, ich kenn keinen der Merlin heißt, aber gut. Den Rest kippe ich weg. Meine Hände färben sich rot. Noch einen Apfel, Rubinette, reingeschnitten. Danach gehe ich ins Cinema um die Ecke, um die neueste Verfilmung von Jane Eyre zu sehen. Es muss gut 20 Verfilmungen geben, ich kenne keine davon. Bei dieser muss ich selbst daheim noch weinen. Ich muss gestehen, dass ich die Hälfte nicht verstanden habe, da das Cinema seit geraumer Zeit nur noch Originalversionen ohne Untertitel zeigt. Macht nichts, geweint wird immer. Und da dieser Film in die Reihe derer eingehen wird, die ich mir mit allen Specials regelmäßig ansehe, werde ich ihn bald mitsprechen können. Nach Jahren des Schmachtens für Matthew Macfayden in einer anderen viktorianischen Verfilmung wird er nun durch Michael Fassbender ersetzt. Michael Fassbender lies meinen Blog! Zu Hause schneide ich zu Kashmir den anderen Rotkohl in feine Scheiben und mariniere ihn ebenso. Er nimmt die drei größten Schüsseln in meiner Küche ein. Das wird wohl nichts mehr mit den Keksen. Morgen wird er den ganzen Tag mit (frischem) Rotwein, Glühfixbeuteln und einer mit Nelken gespickten Zwiebel köcheln und zu unserem Schweinsbraten am Abend gegessen. Davor noch Johannisbeergelee dazu.
Sonntag, 13. November 2011
Bush im Backstage am 10.11.
Anja und ich gehen zu Bush. Es ist viel Zeit vergangen, seit mir Franzi 1997 ihre gebrauchte Sixteen Stone zum Gebrutstag geschenkt geschenkt hat. Alle sehen so aus wie man selbst und entsprechende Freunde vor 10 bis 15 Jahren. Und es ist, wie immer, ein willkommener Anlass, um seine Band T-Shirts auszuführen. Bevor das Konzert beginnt wird passenderweise
Showbiz von Muse gespielt. Gavin Rossdale ist immer noch ein Schnitzi. Er genießt es sichtlich wieder auf Tour zu sein. Das neue Album "Sea of memories" ist typischer Bush-Sound und die paar Lieder, die sie spielen könnten auch weniger beachtete und überhörte Lieder der alten Alben sein. Mir solls recht sein. Der neue Gitarrist hat lange Haare, einen beeindruckenden Bart (wie einige im Publikum auch) und ist sehr dünn und tänzelt wie ein Pony über die Bühne. Es fehlt nur, dass er wiehert. Gavin Rossdale fängt nach dem zweiten Lied an sehr zu schwitzen und hört bis zum Ende nicht damit auf. Alles tropft, die Haare, das T-Shirt, das Mikro, die Gitarre. Als wäre er Leck geschlagen. "Warum schwitzen die anderen nicht so" fragt Anja. Beim Gitarristen zieht vielleicht alles in den Bart, wer weiß. Oh, und es gibt viele Rockstarposen. Haare werden geschüttelt, Gavin Rossdale liegt immer wieder auf dem Boden oder singt gegen den Gitarristen gelehnt. Dann beginnt der Alptraum aller Security-Mitarbeiter. Er beginnt zu spazieren, er läuft an der Abgrenzung entlang und dann auf der uns gegenüberliegenden Seite durchs Publikum, einmal halb außenrum, dann, gegenüber der Eingangstür, quer durch die Menge auf die Bühne zu. Er singt und tanzt mit den Menschen vor der Bühne, die alle ihre Hände nach dem, nicht zu vergessen, sehr nassen Mann ausstrecken. Seine Beschützer sehen ziemlich erleichtert aus, als sie ihn über die Absperrung zurück auf die Bühne geschoben haben. Außerdem scheint er sich sehr für jemanden in der ersten Reihe zu interessieren, er geht mehrmals an die Absperrung und hält dort eine Hand. Am Ende des Konzerts geht er rückwärts von der Bühne und sein Mund sagt I love you Richtung erste Reihe.
Showbiz von Muse gespielt. Gavin Rossdale ist immer noch ein Schnitzi. Er genießt es sichtlich wieder auf Tour zu sein. Das neue Album "Sea of memories" ist typischer Bush-Sound und die paar Lieder, die sie spielen könnten auch weniger beachtete und überhörte Lieder der alten Alben sein. Mir solls recht sein. Der neue Gitarrist hat lange Haare, einen beeindruckenden Bart (wie einige im Publikum auch) und ist sehr dünn und tänzelt wie ein Pony über die Bühne. Es fehlt nur, dass er wiehert. Gavin Rossdale fängt nach dem zweiten Lied an sehr zu schwitzen und hört bis zum Ende nicht damit auf. Alles tropft, die Haare, das T-Shirt, das Mikro, die Gitarre. Als wäre er Leck geschlagen. "Warum schwitzen die anderen nicht so" fragt Anja. Beim Gitarristen zieht vielleicht alles in den Bart, wer weiß. Oh, und es gibt viele Rockstarposen. Haare werden geschüttelt, Gavin Rossdale liegt immer wieder auf dem Boden oder singt gegen den Gitarristen gelehnt. Dann beginnt der Alptraum aller Security-Mitarbeiter. Er beginnt zu spazieren, er läuft an der Abgrenzung entlang und dann auf der uns gegenüberliegenden Seite durchs Publikum, einmal halb außenrum, dann, gegenüber der Eingangstür, quer durch die Menge auf die Bühne zu. Er singt und tanzt mit den Menschen vor der Bühne, die alle ihre Hände nach dem, nicht zu vergessen, sehr nassen Mann ausstrecken. Seine Beschützer sehen ziemlich erleichtert aus, als sie ihn über die Absperrung zurück auf die Bühne geschoben haben. Außerdem scheint er sich sehr für jemanden in der ersten Reihe zu interessieren, er geht mehrmals an die Absperrung und hält dort eine Hand. Am Ende des Konzerts geht er rückwärts von der Bühne und sein Mund sagt I love you Richtung erste Reihe.
Freitag, 4. März 2011
Nadine thinking again
One of my personal goals this year was to write more, no matter what, as long as it was genius and poetic, of course. So far, I have not succeeded. More than two years ago I chose to start writing a blog to share with my friends and anybody interested. A characteristic of a blog is that it is usually about a certain topic. Lets say travel, as my friends Tara and Tyler´s blog www.goingslowly.com. And, usually, it is written on a more regular basis than this one. I saw the movie about the woman writing about cooking Julia Child´s recipes, one per day. I liked that. Not necessaryly daily, though. This is a wonderful blog: http://fashionfabi2.blogspot.com and it is about fashion and Honduras and it does not come out daily. Then there are blogs writing about other blogs... My blog turned out to be about me going to concerts and going out with friends. This is not what I thought it would be, initially. But those were, unfortunately, the only times that sentences started to form in my head. I had the thing written out by the time I got home. Writing is hard work, and that´s about all I know about it. But I always thought I would be writing short stories. Those are my favourite. They are always too short, but, on the other side, every good novel is in the end. You don´t want it to be over. But with a short story you don´t know much once it is over, it´s just a peek you get and then you are being catapulted out again. But no inspiration on that side.
Today was the first time since August 2008 I really had the urge to go into a book store again. The first time since I stopped working at one. I used to be at the one I worked at all the time, even on my days off. And the one next to the university. And I would buy tons of books. In my experience you have to read tons of books to have the pleasure and excitement of finding a truly great one. Which is what happened to me trying to fulfil another goal for this year: read all the unread books on your shelf before buying new ones. And I really got lucky: a battered copy of "American Gods" by Neil Gaiman that suddenly turned up at my parents´ house and nobody knew where it came from. I took it to the unread shelf where it has been sitting for months. I finished it today, reading even the book club discussion questions. I wanted more and I needed a book store. It didn´t have any Neil Gaiman books which is why I will spend a miserable weekend waiting for my Amazon order to arrive on Monday. Hopefully. I had read "Stardust", which was good, because I liked the movie they made out of it. And I was lucky not so long ago because I read "Freedom" by Jonathan Franzen. But it has taken me more than two years to find greatness since "The short wondrous life of Oscar Wao". Of course there were good books. Light ones. There was reading pleasure. And there was Roald Dahl´s "Charlie and the Chocolate factory". I am not complaining. I am just even happier when I find one of THE books. Surprisingly, a lot of the books in the English section looked very appealing. Apparently they are doing something to the design that makes you want to eat them. They all look delicous and a lot of them have strange titles something along the line of "Me,Franz Willough, Rhinocerous hunter" or gosh I can neither remember nor make up anything else. Suddenly I felt weighed down by all the books not being the one I wanted which was "Anansi Boys" or "Coraline" and I had to leave. I dream of this bookstore where I can spend comfortable hours finding my TRUE books.
Lately I have been thinking in English a lot which is good for my fellow English readers otherwise this would most probably be in German. "Are you sure you havn´t forgotten anything?" or "OK now, what do we need?". Then I pass a man on the street telling his wife that ther are, indeed, many people talking to themselves these days. That´s not what I am doing, at least not out loud. Talking to myself while shopping, for example, is my post-it.
Have you noticed my commas? I decided to use them more regularly. We were taught: "If in doubt leave it out". And I still recall the title of a book "Eats, shoots and leaves" about English punctuation which I think is hilarious regarding the fact that this title describes a panda´s eating habits. Maybe I should get that book because it turns out I suck at English punctuation. Yesterday my colleague casually filled in my almost non-existing commas in a five page English text I had typed. Wasn´t my main concern when studying interpretation...
...and even a degree can leave you dumbfounded when facing changes in the daily routine. In the metro station they changed the escalators to going up where it was going down before. Believe me, it took me more than a second to stop standing there like an idiot before turning to the other on going up now. But the girl singing at the trains and announcing each one arriving in a booming voice was there. A day like any other, after all.
Today was the first time since August 2008 I really had the urge to go into a book store again. The first time since I stopped working at one. I used to be at the one I worked at all the time, even on my days off. And the one next to the university. And I would buy tons of books. In my experience you have to read tons of books to have the pleasure and excitement of finding a truly great one. Which is what happened to me trying to fulfil another goal for this year: read all the unread books on your shelf before buying new ones. And I really got lucky: a battered copy of "American Gods" by Neil Gaiman that suddenly turned up at my parents´ house and nobody knew where it came from. I took it to the unread shelf where it has been sitting for months. I finished it today, reading even the book club discussion questions. I wanted more and I needed a book store. It didn´t have any Neil Gaiman books which is why I will spend a miserable weekend waiting for my Amazon order to arrive on Monday. Hopefully. I had read "Stardust", which was good, because I liked the movie they made out of it. And I was lucky not so long ago because I read "Freedom" by Jonathan Franzen. But it has taken me more than two years to find greatness since "The short wondrous life of Oscar Wao". Of course there were good books. Light ones. There was reading pleasure. And there was Roald Dahl´s "Charlie and the Chocolate factory". I am not complaining. I am just even happier when I find one of THE books. Surprisingly, a lot of the books in the English section looked very appealing. Apparently they are doing something to the design that makes you want to eat them. They all look delicous and a lot of them have strange titles something along the line of "Me,Franz Willough, Rhinocerous hunter" or gosh I can neither remember nor make up anything else. Suddenly I felt weighed down by all the books not being the one I wanted which was "Anansi Boys" or "Coraline" and I had to leave. I dream of this bookstore where I can spend comfortable hours finding my TRUE books.
Lately I have been thinking in English a lot which is good for my fellow English readers otherwise this would most probably be in German. "Are you sure you havn´t forgotten anything?" or "OK now, what do we need?". Then I pass a man on the street telling his wife that ther are, indeed, many people talking to themselves these days. That´s not what I am doing, at least not out loud. Talking to myself while shopping, for example, is my post-it.
Have you noticed my commas? I decided to use them more regularly. We were taught: "If in doubt leave it out". And I still recall the title of a book "Eats, shoots and leaves" about English punctuation which I think is hilarious regarding the fact that this title describes a panda´s eating habits. Maybe I should get that book because it turns out I suck at English punctuation. Yesterday my colleague casually filled in my almost non-existing commas in a five page English text I had typed. Wasn´t my main concern when studying interpretation...
...and even a degree can leave you dumbfounded when facing changes in the daily routine. In the metro station they changed the escalators to going up where it was going down before. Believe me, it took me more than a second to stop standing there like an idiot before turning to the other on going up now. But the girl singing at the trains and announcing each one arriving in a booming voice was there. A day like any other, after all.
Sonntag, 28. November 2010
Saturday night blast
My friend Julia takes me to a party that she has been invited to by the boss of an agency that is taking its 10th birthday as an occasion to celebrate it big on the office premises. The T-Shirts the employees are wearing let everybody know that the agency is "becoming 10 years". Regarding the fact that the name and logo is all bee related maybe they should have put "beecoming 10 years", instead of making it clear that somebody didn´t have a clue. The bar is packed and we start ordering several beers at once just to save us the hazzle. The boss has fallen off his motor bike just this morning, has something in his arm snapped and looks pained, vacation cancelled, surgery on Thursday. I hope the little dog being dragged around is already deaf, otherwise he will most likely be so by the end of the night. There are two entertainers but they are already wrapping up, then there is a DJ.
We check out the other people and we quickly find out that the guy not saying a word all night next to us is the company´s computer guy. The guys on the other side apparently work at Siemens and are pretty stuck up and don´t loosen up a bit in the course in the evening. The girl in front of us starts talking to my friend in English. "Apparently she´s from abroad, she speaks English", Julia tells me.
We ask her where she is from. She replies: "I´m from Germany but I thought you were from Israel." "No, we´re German", we reply in German. Apparently a misunderstanding.
The night goes on and as we don´t really know anybody apart from my neighbor who turns out to be working here we do all the embarrassing things. We sing along loudly and into each other´s beer bottles and dance around wildly, there is definitely some drinking going on. The little dog is thirsty and starts drinking out of a beer puddle on the floor where somebody has dropped a bottle. Somebody brings the dog a bowl of water.
"The guy to your left is taken, he is with my sister. But the guy to your left is free", the girl from before tells me. Apparently another misunderstanding.
"Thank you, but I am also very definitely taken", I reply.
More for us to giggle. Almost nobody is dancing, the DJ is trying really hard. We don´t care, even better for us. We figure out that other people can´t let go that easily and talk about work even at 2 a.m.
Every time I go get drinks the barmen tell me what´s out. Gin? Out. Lime? Out. Icecubes? Don´t even ask. Aperol? Ha, funny. Prosecco? Gone hours ago.
When we decide to leave we find the other guy Julia knows and he introduces us to a friend. "Are you from Israel?" This is really strange. We shake our heads. "I just got back from Israel and you guys look like you were from Israel."
Someone hands me a small bag of fizzy powder and a shot of wodka. I empty the contents into my hand and someone counts to three. I slap the hand to my mouth. Half the powder misses my mouth and most of the rest hits my windpipe. I try in vain to wash it down with the shot. The fizzy stuff explodes in my mouth. Coughing I try to calm down. That was a first. I find my way to the restroom and with one ear hear the guy asking my friend if we work for Mossad. When I get back they are still going on about it and I decide that the inflationary use of the word Mossad at this hour is too much.
I manage to get Julia out.
"You guys don´t work here, do you?" a guy we say bye to asks. "No, more fun for us that way!"
I find her and me a taxi. What a great night!
We check out the other people and we quickly find out that the guy not saying a word all night next to us is the company´s computer guy. The guys on the other side apparently work at Siemens and are pretty stuck up and don´t loosen up a bit in the course in the evening. The girl in front of us starts talking to my friend in English. "Apparently she´s from abroad, she speaks English", Julia tells me.
We ask her where she is from. She replies: "I´m from Germany but I thought you were from Israel." "No, we´re German", we reply in German. Apparently a misunderstanding.
The night goes on and as we don´t really know anybody apart from my neighbor who turns out to be working here we do all the embarrassing things. We sing along loudly and into each other´s beer bottles and dance around wildly, there is definitely some drinking going on. The little dog is thirsty and starts drinking out of a beer puddle on the floor where somebody has dropped a bottle. Somebody brings the dog a bowl of water.
"The guy to your left is taken, he is with my sister. But the guy to your left is free", the girl from before tells me. Apparently another misunderstanding.
"Thank you, but I am also very definitely taken", I reply.
More for us to giggle. Almost nobody is dancing, the DJ is trying really hard. We don´t care, even better for us. We figure out that other people can´t let go that easily and talk about work even at 2 a.m.
Every time I go get drinks the barmen tell me what´s out. Gin? Out. Lime? Out. Icecubes? Don´t even ask. Aperol? Ha, funny. Prosecco? Gone hours ago.
When we decide to leave we find the other guy Julia knows and he introduces us to a friend. "Are you from Israel?" This is really strange. We shake our heads. "I just got back from Israel and you guys look like you were from Israel."
Someone hands me a small bag of fizzy powder and a shot of wodka. I empty the contents into my hand and someone counts to three. I slap the hand to my mouth. Half the powder misses my mouth and most of the rest hits my windpipe. I try in vain to wash it down with the shot. The fizzy stuff explodes in my mouth. Coughing I try to calm down. That was a first. I find my way to the restroom and with one ear hear the guy asking my friend if we work for Mossad. When I get back they are still going on about it and I decide that the inflationary use of the word Mossad at this hour is too much.
I manage to get Julia out.
"You guys don´t work here, do you?" a guy we say bye to asks. "No, more fun for us that way!"
I find her and me a taxi. What a great night!
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