So I said I was going to post fewer posts, and yet here I am, writing one again only a few hours after publishing the last. And no, this is not the kind of post that you can schedule for a later day or save as a draft. It has a feeling of urgency.

Let me set the scene. In my part of the world it is almost four in the morning and I am alone in my room. I’m thirsty but too lazy to go to the bathroom, fill the kettle and make some tea. Also that could wake up my flatmate, which I wouldn’t want. But then I guess she’s probably in a deep sleep phase and she sleeps with her window open every night and we live right by a busy street that’s quite noisy even at four in the morning. So scratch that. Laziness is my only excuse. Also my room smells of salami, which I had a craving for, but now it’s just repulsive. Every now and then a wave of salami-scented air approaches me from my left side. The leftover salami will have to go first. That’ll be my first step after finishing this post. Actually, I do need the loo, so maybe the second.

It’s one of those strange nights where I can never be sure whether I’m having a nervous breakdown or an epiphany. Even though I am as sober as I have ever been (haven’t even touched a cigarette in quite a while now), it’s like I’m high. My every sense seems alert to the beauty and tragedy of life. So I’ve decided to seize the moment and pull and all nighter, something I haven’t done since I left school. My life has become so boring so orderly. There’s no returning from Brighton on the first bus home. There’s no coursework that is worth it to work through the night.

I haven’t even had a drink in over a week. Actually, hang on. I would very much like to have a drink. Right now. Ugh, I now have to admit to having made a gin and tonic way too strong for my taste. It would probably taste better if the tonic water wasn’t flat and too old. But it’s good. I think there is something very graceful about solitary drinking (as long as you limit yourself to the occasional glass). I should take it up. Yes. I might just make and impulse purchase and buy a wine decanter on Amazon.

How have I come here, you ask? Well, it started when I discovered I had internet this morning. I forgot how much I love the internet. At first I thought it would never return and I’d have to spend a lot of time in the library using their free but annoyingly slow WiFi. I went so far as to make a list of reasons why I should actually be happy not to have internet in my room. That’s what I when I get anxious about how things might turn out. I make a list of advantages of the outcome that I feel less desirable. Like a list of reasons why going to my second choice of uni is actually better that my first in case I don’t get into my first choice and then a reason of why it’s better that I don’t go to uni in Scotland in case I get into neither of them. Uncertainty makes me wobbly. I don’t like it. You know how some people make a plan B in case their actual plan doesn’t work out? Well, I also have a plan C, in case B doesn’t work out and C and D and so on. Knowing I have a plan helps. Only if my plan E doesn’t work out, I’m truly fucked.

So yes, I rediscovered the magic of the internet. Not the horrific porn and gossip and people thinking they have to give their opinion on everything, but the nicer sides of it. I love how many opportunities it gives you. How with every door you open there’s a corridor with a million more doors on the other side. It’s late, so please excuse my analogies or metaphors or whatever they are called. I never did get the literary devices right. I loved literature and I loved talking about it but I could never see why it was necessary for me to use words like onomatopoeia and oxymoron and asyndeton. Literally. Why?

Where was I? Yes, so even though it was already beyond midnight and I have things tomorrow and stuff, I decided to watch a film. Films are somehow just so much better than series. I find this with books as well. I like novels. I do not like things that drag on for years and years. Even Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Oh, especially Twilight.

The film I watched was “Laggies” starring Keira Knightley doing an impressive American accent and Chloe Moretz and another guy that I think played superman or badman but I might be entirely wrong. It was not a great film. I will probably watch it ever again. Still. You know when somehow films are just so good not because they are but because they strike a chord in you? So, yeah. That happened.

I really need the toilet now. Drinking didn’t really help that. I think I might have missed my point, the morale of my story, but then I guess that is precisely the point.

Have a pleasant night, y’all!

B x

Why Christmas In Germany Is The Best

As you might or might not know, the main Christmas celebrations in Germany are on Christmas Eve, the 24th aka today. This means that you don’t have to wait as long (perk #1), but even better, it means that Christmas lasts three whole days (perk #2): Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day (which is called Christmas Day II here, which I personally find very amusing). The only downside is that advent calendars here only have 24 little doors, but who wouldn’t happily give up a tiny piece of chocolate for a whole day of presents and food.

So we have now established the theme (which you have already derived from the title…): Christmas in Germany and why it is so good.

Where do I start… Well, I guess what I like so much about the season is that it starts even before December begins. From the end of August onward the supermarkets pile up various Christmas-related treats. My favourite: spekulatius biscuits. They’re amazing and ideal to have with tea or coffee.

Then, as soon as December starts (and sometimes earlier) Christmas time begins. Traditionally you have an advent wrath with four candles, one for each Sunday leading up to Christmas, and you light them one after the other (which means that they are all different lengths by the time it’s Christmas, which is VERY annoying and impractical, but I guess it’s a nice tradition).

Then, on the 6th, it’s St. Nicks and no matter what age you are, you leave small treats in the shoes of those you live with. Which I guess falls under the category “show others how much you appreciate them at Christmas time”. There are various other ways to do that: You can give an advent calendar to your boyfriend/girlfriend, give little parcels of homemade biscuits to your neighbours and, of course, buy or make presents for your friends and family. Also, I always find that writing Christmas cards is a great way to stay in contact with those who don’t live close by.

The bestest thing about Christmas in Germany, though, are the markets. Not only are they extremely festive and pretty and nice, but there is nothing better than drinking hot Glühwein (mulled wine) with a few friends outside in the cold.

Merry Christmas!

B x

P. S. Another thing Germany deserves credit for is the Christmas tree. Yes, this tradition started here and then spread across the globe. Fun fact: It was introduced to the English-speaking world by Queen Victoria’s German spouse.


18th October 2014

So, few days later, here I am on my first visit home. The Tuesday outing was more or less successful, thanks to three gin tonics, two mojitos, two beer and endless cigarettes. Turns out my suspicions about the people I went with were outright right (mildly racist, mildly homophobic, and, surprise surprise, more than mildly sexist). But drinks were comparably cheap, the music was bad but not too bad and with a bit of courage it was easy to meet new people.

I have also found out that my internetlessness is caused by an external problem (the student halls are cut off from the main server or something…) and am pretty much settled in. It will take me yet another week until I will be able to start my lectures and seminars, but hey ho. Only slight obstacle is a nation-wide general strike of train drivers that will put a hold to any attempt of me getting back to uni on Sunday. But hey ho, right?

So, back home also means back online. I have however, so far put off taking this blog viral. The writing itself is the easy part. So far, whenever I found the courage to think “Hey, I’ll start a blog”, I only ever got to the part where you set up all the technical stuff. Suddenly you’re faced with so many options and you have to make so many choices. What do I know what the header should look like? I just want to write a bloody blog. And what about this ridiculous “about me” section? What am I supposed to write there? Infinitely annoying, but I will pull myself together and do it. Now. So that you can actually read this stuff. Makes sense.

P.S. I’m doing my best, people. But again: What do I want my blog title to be?

As you might have noticed: here we are! I made it. So proud of myself. Make sure you read the previous posts so that all of this makes sense. Also, a precautionary “Soz” for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

B x

The Social Anxiety of Freshers Week without Freshers Week

14th October 2014

So, I’ve decided to skip the introductionary blahblah for now to get onto current events. I’ll be going out tonight. Sounds regular, right. Well, it isn’t all that regular. Regular would mean getting ready for a night out with one to eight of my friends, then hitting the town. And by that I mean familiar clubs, familiar bars. And even if we try something new, we’re always with familiar people. People I love, people I trust.

Now, today’s situation is a bit different. I am on my own. My familiar gang is hundreds of miles away in another country, and I have just arrived here, am barely settling in and don’t know anyone. I should also inform you that I don’t like making new friends and meeting new people unless I am already with friends and I’m meeting MORE people. You get my drift? Plus, I haven’t been out in Germany in over a year and even then, it was, guess: with my friends. But no, I’ve been invited to a night out with lots of people that I hardly know (although from what I know they are both mildly racist and mildly homophobic), but I should take this chance, right? I’d regret it if I didn’t. Maybe these people are amazing. At least I’ll be in a group. And I can always leave, right? Oh god, I really shouldn’t be so nervous. It’s just drinks, and then I can see how it goes. Do I want to leave? Then I’ll leave. Do I want to stay? Maybe I’ll stay. And if everything goes super-awkward, I can always escape for a smoke. Fingers crossed that smoking areas are similarly social hubs as in Brighton and hopefully people will dress more appropriately for the weather here. Wish me luck! (haha, jokes.)