Confusion

I don´t like my changing moods, I watch me being and I doubt it´s rightness. I´d appreciate a more constant self. A more balanced self. Right now I am asking myself: Am I a material girl? Am I not able to see what is really important? I would like to settle down, mentally speaking. What is important, after all? What I don´t like about me right now:

* I don´t like me not being able to answer emails as fast as I would like to. In fact, in the office I manage just fine. Whereas in private life I´m a total mess… There´s people I´ve been owing emails like for six months!

* I don´t like making decisions. Again: In the office I manage just fine. But concerning myself, I´m a bit of a mess. There are always pros and cons to consider. Why is it so difficult to decide when it affects me? I´ll just have to accept the fact that only very small portions of life can really be planned.

Do not forget your former self. At this moment I believe that I was more self confident a few years ago. Knowing what to do. Trusting that it would be ok. I would like to meet my former self. Reading one´s emails is helpful and a small kind of „wayback machine“. I also recorded some phone calls I made some years ago. If I listen to them now it´s like a little earthquake. Hey, look at me. I was that kind of person. On the one hand, she´s very familiar. On the other hand, she´s strange.

If I got blind, would I be more grateful? Would I see, would I realize the important things better without eyes? Is it true, can´t we see the good things that happen to us? I would like to focus on them. And to rest in them when the rest is shaking.

Sex and death

Sometimes sex is a beginning. For all non-believers death is the end. So in the last few days, sex and death both dropped by and said hello.

Sex, because I´m experiencing a little „Sex and the City“ overdose. Watching 4 episodes on DVD each night, even my accent is changing to American English. Let me tell you that I normally don´t watch TV. And if I do, I watch crime series or movies. So here I go, watching this series 5 years later than the rest of humanity and I wonder how on earth this could have been broadcasted on American TV. It´s so explicit sometimes, but very funny. It´s flecked with corns of wisdom from time to time. And it´s a good way to improve your vocabulary. In many ways.

Death, because people die. All of a sudden. They choose it themselves, God does, or whoever, and they´re gone. Children, parents, grandmas. Like this. You wake up, your life is ok. You´re angry because the mailman doesn´t arrive, you think you´re the most disgraced person on earth because there´s a pimple on your face, you feel unworthy because you don´t earn enough money or your love life´s a mess. And suddenly someone dies or chooses to die and you say: Hey, is my life really so bad? Shouldn´t I be glad for every day I´m alive? God, we tend to be so superficial when everything´s ok… I don´t like that.

Krank, na und?

Irgendwann musste er ja kommen: Mein erster Fehltag als Angestellte. Mit Frosch und Begleitung im Hals sitze ich nun zu Hause, habe Rückenschmerzen und fühle mich dusselig. Aber kein Mensch kann den ganzen Tag im Bett liegen. Also auf sportme.de Fan von Zeck Attack geworden. Meiner Lieblingsfrauenrugbymannschaft in der 1. Bundesliga, die sich auch untereinander gepflegt Verletzungen zufügen. Mädels, ich gucke gerne zu. Aber mitmachen, nein danke. :-)

Big detour again. Sorry about that. Even philosophers get ill.

PS: Kranksein hält mich natürlich nicht davon ab, auf das einzige Dolores O´Riordan Konzert in Deutschland zu gehen. Ich war ja früher ein großer Cranberries Fan, habe es aber nie zu einem Konzert geschafft. Insofern war das ein endlich verwirklichter Teenietraum. Man muss sagen: Die Frau kann singen. Wie kann jemand, der so klein und fein ist, eine solche Stimme haben? Und so hässliche Bandmitglieder?

Beauty is the beast

Dear all,

in the last few weeks I´ve really been taking a big detour from what this blog was really meant to be. It was not meant to be a tourist diary. It was not meant to be a cultural reporter. Neither was it meant to be a documentation on the horrors of moving. It was meant to be the marrow. So, for a start, I´m pondering about beauty today.

Has it happened to you, that people make a big impression on you just because they´re beautiful, handsome, good-looking, whatever? I would like to resist the fact that people who look good make a bigger impression on me than average looking people. But I can´t. Women who are good looking intimidate me, men who are good-looking intimidate me. I somehow seem to respect them more. They´re like „the big thing“. Why? I don´t like myself being this way.

We all know that the inner part of your and others´ self should be the important part. The part we value the most. And I don´t mean your organs. ;-) I mean: character, personality, thoughts, opinions, behavior. And here I am, believing this. Then a handsome colleague comes in and I start dropping my pen and all this sort of stuff. I mean: fuck! I don´t want this.

I know there are studies that show that somehow life is easier for good-looking people. But why? Are we, after all, just slaves of outer beauty? Are we, after all, slaves of our genes, who tell us: This woman/man is beautiful. You have to respect him/her. She/he is somehow better than me. Or is this just my ever-lacking selfesteem? Or my juvenile immaturity? Do genes care about inner beauty? I doubt it. And I don´t like it.

That´s all for today.

Men have made the a-bombs, men have made guns
The dreaded torture chambers and the barbed wire fence
But of all the awful things that men did invent
The idea of ideal beauty is worth the most contempt

And tell me who’s a killer?
If we all consider that emotion runs as deep as flesh
And the idea of ideals that say what beauty is
Has sentenced so many to death

So, if beauty is your friend you’d better go deceive it
Beauty is the beast, you better believe it
You’re wasting your whole life if you’re trying to achieve it
Beauty is the beast and you better believe it

Now, who can tell me how and where to begin
In a world who thinks of ugly as the cardinal sin
And constantly is talking about the beauty within
But locks up in the cellar everything that is grim

The Ark – „Beauty is the beast“

A little bit of me

1. When was the last time you cried?

Yesterday evening, at the cinema.

2. Do you like your handwriting?

Absolutely. But some people can´t tell the difference between my s and g.

3. What is your favorite lunch meat?

None, as I´m vegetarian.

4. Do you have kids?

Not yet.

5. If you were another person would you be friends with you?

Oh, yes. But, I guess, sometimes I´d think: Why does she have to be so complicated?

6. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Well „a lot“ sounds way to much, but yes, I´d say I use it frequently.

7. Do you still have your tonsils?

Yes, but one is bigger than the other and nobody can tell me why.

8. Would you bungee jump?

Never ever.

9. What is your favorite cereal?

I love all kinds of cereals, but the best are oat flakes. Even if it sounds horrible to most people, but I love them with milk or as porridge.

10. Do you think you are strong?

Difficult question. Let´s say, I used to be stronger. „I used to be indecisive, now I´m not so sure.“ ;-)

11. What is your favorite ice cream?

Usually I like: raspberry, chocolate, vanilla. I love Häagen-Dazs´Cookies & Cream, though.

12. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Their faces. I sometimes even can´t remember what they were wearing.

13. What is the least favorite thing about you?

I can be very, very stubborn about things that I am deeply convinced of.

14. Who do you miss the most?

Guess!!! Or to say it with Robbie Williams: „I don´t miss you, just the one you used to be.“

15. What color pants and shoes are you wearing?

Blue and dark-red.

16. What was the last thing you ate?

Toast with marmelade and honey.

17. What are you listening to right now?

The fantastic „Yo George“ from Tori Amos new album „American Doll Posse“.

18. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?

Don´t know. Brown maybe?

19. Favorite smells?

The way it smells after the rain. My ex-boyfriend´s smell. :-(

20. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?

A student with poor information-literacy, who was not able to locate a book at his own library, god! But I was nice to him. ;-)

21. Favorite sports to watch?

On TV? I couldn´t bother less.

22. Hair colour?

Dark brown. But I´ve discovered some gray hairs. At 25!

23. Eye colour?

Brown.

24. Do you wear contacts?

Sometimes.

25. Favourite food?

That´s difficult. I like Italian, Indian, German, Spanish…

26. Scary movies or happy endings?

Neither. I like „Problemfilme“, you know me!

27. Last movie you watched?

The unsettling „Little Children„. I´m still uneasy about it.

28. What colour shirt are you wearing?

Something chequered.

29. Summer or winter?

Winter.

30. Hugs or kisses?

Hugs.

31. Favorite dessert?

Death in chocolate (VaPiano).

32. What is on your mouse pad?

„DBV“.

33. What did you watch on TV last night?

I was at the cinema. See question 27.

34. Favorite sound?

At the moment: Tori Amos, The Dears, Sophia, Blur, Death Cab for Cutie, KT Tunstall, The Kooks, Razorlight.

35. Rolling Stones or Beatles?

The Beatles.

36. What is the furthest you have been from home?

Argentina? Saudi Arabia?

37. Do you have a special talent?

I can be pretty straightforward. Sometimes it´s quite disconcerting.

38. Where were you born?

In Heidelberg (St. Elisabeth Krankenhaus).

I doubt my own depth

Of course I believe that many people are superficial and no, I am not like that. Now how on earth does measurement work, does my personal measurement work? Because sometimes I do doubt my own depth. I believe in loving people for what they are, but sometimes I get a feeling, which makes me doubt everything I am. And the thing is: men make me forget my depth. So, it´s them and their appearance, it´s this “tú sabes que estoy a tus pies”-thing. They open my pandora´s box, which is full of my surface I´ve managed to scratch off through all these years.

Yes, I feel pity for the woman who has to go to prison because of being obsessed with Mel Gibson. I don´t understand the Mel-Gibson-part of it, but I understand that she´s attracted to someone by merely seeing his face and body. And let me tell you, it´s not the feeling men have for pin-ups, for Playboys starring naked women. When I look at a man and he is attractive to me, a jar opens inside me, and a thick, bittersweet liquid runs out of it and flows under my skin, making me feel comfortable and at the same time making me feel an eternal lack.