Broad City Bitch, Broad Broad City Bitch

I love love love Broad city. And somehow, I seem to be anything but alone with this sentiment – everyone loves Broad City. I still have to warm up to the fact that this kind of humour has shuffled into mainstream culture. I mean, I love it, but it does take some getting used to. As a quirky web series it would not have surprised me, but TV?? The times are a changin’! Good for them.

There are so many reasons why I love this show and why I hence love that so many other people love it too. For once, I love that Broad City does not try to generalize. I mean, it shows the lives of two friends in New York, but unlike other series set in NYC, it does not try to ‘depict a generation’. I mean, that is just bullshit. Take Sex In The City, for example: It too displays the lives of friends in the city, but it also tries to make a broader statement about life in the city as a single woman in her thirties, which, for most single women in their thirties, was probably not a very accurate portrayal of their lives.

Even the more recent and heavily praised shows, like Dunham’s Girls, seem to want to make a statement. Surely, they are funded on some actual developments, like the financial dependence of graduates on their parents, but I think sometimes the goal is better reached by not explicitly trying to depict some deeper truths about society.

After all, society is an assembly of microcosms, of people living in their own worlds, of perspectives. And I think if we had more shows like Broad City, shows that depict the characters’ world and perspective without zooming out and trying to establish a bigger picture, we would be tempted to draw that bigger picture ourselves, out of what we have seen, and maybe not only the TV program would be better, but also the world we live in.

B x

German Neon And Frankly Frankie

Today will have to be another quick post, also the last in the row of me sharing things I like with you (well, at least in such a highly concentrated dose), and also meaning that I’ll be back at uni and in Germany to do real, live blogging about things that happen and things I think about. Yay! It’ll be such fun for you guys to read a blog that hasn’t been on autopilot for over two weeks (although I still think that option is marvelous, I might have underestimated the amount of time needed to write this many blog posts.

Back in focus: Sharing things I like. Today: Magazines! Yeehah! Although for those who don’t find themselves speaking fluent German, my first announcement might be a bit of a downer. My absolute favourite magazine is German, in German and called NEON. They also have a website that is more like an interactive forum (but also mainly in German, soz). Basically it is a funny yet serious magazine for people in their twenties, I’d say, though me and some friends started reading it while in our early teens, and I guess it is still interesting if you’re past your twenties… So, yes. It features stories about current issues, but also columns about everything in everyday life and really really fun things. Also these magazines tend to be beautiful (if you’ve read my post about cookbooks, you’ll know I have a soft spot for graphic design).

But, for all of those who don’t understand a word of German, this is my favourite English-language magazine: Frankie Magazine (Australia). Also extremely nice to look at and read and really fun. Though I have to add that while NEON is completely and utterly unisex, this one might be directed more towards women. No guarantee, though, I’m not an expert on this and it is 2015, so read any magazine you like please, no matter your gender.

Yes, so that’s that already. I am still looking for a nice Spanish-language (or even Danish, maybe) magazine, preferably beautifully designed, so if you have an idea about that, please let me know.

B x

The Miracle That Is Miranda Hart

Today we are completely and utterly off topic. And that has a reason. Yes, of course it is the last day of the year 2014 and we can all reflect and make resolutions and kiss the ones we love at midnight. But that is besides the point. There is a last day of the year every year, there has always been and will always be. Nothing to get too emotional about (although, of course, it is a lovely occasion to get teary and melancholy, but all within reason).

What I am talking about today is much bigger. It is the end of an era. And what an era! It was so filled with joy and fun and embarrassments. Today, my chums (you’ll get this soon, I hope), is the day that the final ever episode of Miranda will air. Now of course, you might not know what ‘Miranda’ is exactly, but you have gathered that it must be some kind of show on TV or the radio. Most likely, you will think “oh no, another one of these crazy TV fanatics, go get a life”, and usually I would wholeheartedly agree with you. Not today though.

Those of you who know the sitcom will know what I mean. It is hardly just a show. It is a lifestyle, and what a lifestyle. Tho those of you who have not seen or heard of such a thing ever: Do not (I repeat – DO NOT) go on YouTube and look for a trailer or a funniest bits kind of thing. Please, gain full access to the first season (maybe stream it online illegally, download it from some kind of cloud, buy/loan/steal the DVD, rent it – how would I know how you roll with these kind of things?) and start watching the first episode.

Now you will likely also end up watching the next episode and the next, but no worries, the worst-case scenario is you watching 14 episodes with a length of 30 minutes, which is a mere 7 hours of your life.

I have found someone who shares my enthusiasm for this British splurge on the distant shores: A lady called Carmen Croghan. She describes very well the appeal of the show, but watch out newbies, there are some huge spoilers. Also interesting: You can watch Miranda on hulu and Acorn TV (whatever that may be – rhyme!!).

So the question still open is ‘Who the f*** is Miranda?’. Well, ‘Miranda’ is the central character, a quirky unique and extremely lovable woman in her thirties dealing with the struggles of everyday life and social awkwardness. ‘Miranda’ is also the first name of Miranda Hart, a hilarious 6ft 1in British comedienne and actress, who, incidentally, portrays Miranda in the show and is also the writer and creator.

So although we will be able to enjoy Miranda Hart and her genius mind frequently in the future (she’s doing stand-up, will be hosting a new edition of the Generation Game plus she landed a role in a Hollywood production starring Jude Law and Melissa McCarthy), this sitcom, which is the perfection of her stage persona and so so funny, entertaining, relateable and so so good, will come to an end after today’s episode (there were three seasons – 6 ingenious episodes each, plus one episode on Christmas day, which left us with an incredible cliffhanger). Such sad times. And such NOT fun. But everything must come to an end (although I prefer Brian May’s stance ‘show must go on’…).

I sincerely hope you will share my love for this microcosm of odd habits and I with you all the best for the next year!

B x

Keeping Up With… Music

And on and on we go on this journey through the cultural highlights of my life. Today’s topic: Music! In particular: How to keep up with contemporary music! Yay! So, here we go:

I love music. Really, really do. My problem: There is just SO MUCH music out there. When and where am I meant to listen to all of that, make up my mind about whether I like it or not AND the listen to it repeatedly (learn all the words, go to the artist’s gigs, become a wholehearted fan,…). It just seems impossible. And this is just music. Music is probably the most low-maintenance of the things I’d like to keep up to date with. I can listen to music WHILE doing other things. This ain’t so easy with things like books or TV that require our more or less undivided attention. Still, I mainly end up listening to music that I know and love.

The solution: Radio! Ay! The easy yet classic answer to my problem.

Now, to pick up the pace a bit: My favourite radio station is called Triple J (you can listen to it here). You will find that it is Australian which renders all kind of things besides music absolutely useless (especially weather forecasts and anything like morning shows, seeing as they are in a completely different time zone) but all the more fun to listen to.

Plus, most importantly, they have a great mix of the newest, hippest music. The highlight: Every year, the listeners vote the ‘Triple J Hottest 100’. This year’s countdown will take place on January 26th.

Are there any other radio stations you listen too that I should know about?

B x

Trashy TV and Very Little Time

My plan to write posts in advance has failed miserably. At first, I wrote the posts for the following day, which was not too bad, but now I have about 15 minutes in order not to fail my resolution to “blog daily”, plus my battery is running low. Life is tough (or ‘toff’ as they’d say in Chelsea). But I can do this.

Here we go. Today, I’d like to share my favourite reality TV show. We all watch some horrible TV, or read some horrible fiction or listen to horrible music because we enjoy it, and there’s no reason to feel ashamed about it.

I love reality TV because it gives me the illusion that those characters are real, and therefore judging them and their choices is much more fun. It is also amazing how invested you become in those people’s fortunes. And as it is ‘real’ it feels less pathetic to root for a particular relationship or person. Of course we feel the same way about fiction (please, don’t tell me you didn’t cross your fingers that Lizzie Bennett and Mr Darcy would get together already). But it all feels a lot less definite on reality TV. Such fun.

So, my all-time favourite reality TV show is “Made in Chelsea”. If you haven’t already, please, please watch it.

(I’M RUNNING OUT OF TIME, NEED TO TYPE FASTER)

It is basically about these rich kids in their early twenties in Chelsea (posh bit of Central London), and all they do is hang out in cafes and bars and there’s intrigues and everyone has slept with everything. It is hilarious and so great.

This ad for season 5 is perfect to describe how it all works (in a lovely ironic manner):

So, that’s that for now. Oh, I almost forgot. The close runner up to MIC (yes, acronym for Made in Chelsea) is Take Me Out. I know this is a format that exists in several countries, so please consider that I’m talking about the UK version that is hosted by that horrible and hilarious Paddy (… don’t know the last name and no time to look it up). It is the exact opposite of MIC in terms of poshness, but equally misogynistic and trashy.

B x

Online Generation, right?!

13th October 2014

Feeling the urgent desire to start a blog at  time when you have no access to the internet seems like one of those internal paradoxes that we all know. Like a longing for christmas time (*sings* mitstletoe and wine…) that overcomes us just as we are melting in the Spanish sun in mid-August.

During the next few posts (can you even call it that when you’re not actually posting it yet?) I’ll try and explain some of the motivations that may be the source of this sudden calling, but for now maybe a brief summary of my current situation will help you out. As I have previously stated, I am unfortunately offline for now. Not by choice, this must be clear. If you are one of those new-age hipsters, then maybe living without access to the web might be seen as a new way to “reconnect with nature”, and you’ll tell everyone about how freeing the experience has been before returning to your daily reading of GOOP and the like. No, not me. I like the internet. I really do. And the problem doesn’t seem to be the internet itself (but how do people even now, it’s not like you see a rainbow coming out of that pathetic little box on my wall), but rather theWiFi router (is that what it’s called?). Well, I don’t really know. My competence in this area is very limited, as you might have noticed.

Funny story actually, I came to prove my computer skills only about two or three weeks ago when I spilled a glass of coke (and a bit of rum) on my laptop. Clever me, I shut down the laptop, sacrificed a package of rice and left the laptop there for an extended period of time. Great reaction, right? I kept my calm and handled that situation like a motherfucker. Well, initial success confirmed me in this perception of myself (yes, thank you very much); to my very surprise and relief, Truman (and yes, I named my laptop) was up and running. All good and well if there hadn’t been that slight issue with the sound. After a while of me being relieved and Truman being up and running – specifically: showing me an episode of Finding Carter (yes, it’s trashy but, boy, such tension, such drama) -, the sound dropped. It was just gone. A bit later it was back. But it had changed. It was like in Zombieland where Jesse Eisenberg helps his supposedly injured hot neighbour from 7F or so (I’d look it up, but NO INTERNET) and he gets all excited and horny when suddely she turns into a zombie and hell brakes loose. Well, the sound made a similar transformation. From giving no sound (“supposedly injured”) to the voicing of high pitched screeching, screaming sounds (“hell brakes loose”). Again,shut down, keep calm, what next? I came to the conclusion that I’d have to do some open heart surgery. I gathered some tissues (why?!), a tiny little screwdriver and some snacks (soul food), and started unscrewing. All well so far, I finally left it at opening up the laptop, blowing into it a bit and then starting to resemble the whole lot. Here it was a bit tricky, it didn’t seem to close as well as it had opened, but I just screwed away (there might have been some mild force in use, I know, I know…). Again everything was fine (the sound was fixed, hurra!) until the recent rebellion of my router, when I said “fuck WiFi, I’m going LAN” and tried to put he cable into that little plug (naughty!). Didn’t work. How, yous ask? It seems a ricecorn from the aftermath of the rum-and-coke disaster got stuck somewhere inside of Truman and then disfigured my LAN box thingy when I rescrewed the whole thing. A bloody ricecorn. So, yeah.