Melantrys' Page of Useless Things to Say

I am moving!

2007-02-05T14:53:00.000+01:00

To cut a long story short: It has become extremely difficult to avoid Blogger's trying to force me to change to the new Google Blogger.... which I do not wish to do for various reasons.

As deleting my cookies and restarting not always provides a work-around onto the old Blogger I am disabling comments now (imported all the old ones into a new blog already, so don't fret), so that I don't have to manually copy them later on.

I'm a bit busy these weeks at work as well, but hopefully the blog will be done after this weekend (Feb 12) or the one after that at the latest (Feb 19).

As I don't know if I'll be able to log on here for another official announcement I can't be anything but vague about the date. Sorry!!

At the moment the new one is still offline but I will put the link into my blogroll already.

Update! I can't believe I am here, inside the workings of my blog. For 2 days I have been trying to log on and alway got the "update to Google Blogger first" page. Whew!

For all of you who already bookmarked my new address as it was given in the blogroll, sorry, dudes, I decided to buy my own server space in the meantime to have more freedom. Will add the real one to the blogroll when I'm done posting this. (Just in case I get kicked out after posting: the blog

The new one still needs a bit of work, but who knows when I'd get the chance to log on here again to make announcements. I am confident the final touches will have been added to the blog after the weekend, read: on Monday, Febuary 26.

See ya over there,

Mel

Happy New Year!!!!

2007-01-01T19:47:00.000+01:00

Gods, am I hung over.....

Anyway....

Happy New Year to all of my friends on- and offline, and may this new year bring you all that you wish for!

Eid mubarak!

2006-12-30T23:15:00.000+01:00

Have a blessed Eid al-Adha, everyone!

Merry Christmas, everyone!!!!!

2006-12-25T21:49:00.000+01:00

Should have posted this yesterday already, but was too busy with other stuff.

Well, it's still Christmas.

Have a good one, all of you!

'Tis the season...

2006-12-17T19:44:00.000+01:00

... to go and mix up the ole rat poison. *winks at the Mad Canuck*

What do you get if you mix rose-water with potash and hartshorn salt (aka carbonate of ammonia)? Ah, the name of one of the ingredients suggests it already, doesn't it? As I told some people last night, the eye-watering mixture smells like something you can clean drains with (or more likely dissolve them).

What sounds like me going totally medieval and meddling with the alchemical arts is in truth the rather antique raising agent used for traditional gingerbread recipes.

Yes, you can truly eat the result. I just did, and I'm absolutely carpooled, the carpet is growing, see if they don't!

homemade gingerbread

It's a tad too early to say "Merry Christmas!", but have a nice christmassy season anyway!!!!!

Whoops, it's.... not winter

2006-11-27T00:09:00.000+01:00

Anyone remember last year?

Apart from it being between 15.5 and 19° Celsius these days, which makes last year look surreal (or maybe rather this year....) I feel the need to mention what they did in Ochtrup on Saturday. They held emergency generator parties in several restaurants in the area (which had been among the areas effected by the power outages last year). With decorated generators running outside and candles illuminating the inside, people gathered to eat pea soup in remembrance of the support and help the communities offered each other during the long power outage last year.

Trip to Amman -- pt.2

2006-11-22T22:22:00.000+01:00

Wednesday, August 16th

Wednesday turned into bank day for us.

We took a taxi out to Shmesani, only to be turned away at the Bank of Jordan as well. The man there suggested going to an exchange office; they'd accept my cheques. Yes, we told him, but their rates were daylight robbery. So he sent us down the street to an American Express office. His description reminded me of the taxi drivers in Turkey when they were unwilling to drive you for a "short" way; we definitely walked a lot farther than he had told us we'd be walking.

At the American Express office we were sent up to some other office - which looked much less like American Express than the first door we'd walked through which had had the logo and all.... Sorry, no, they didn't cash traveller cheques, they only issued them. (Yeah, that makes sense...) But he'd call an exchange office in the area. I'm a bit hazy on the exact rate (you're not the only senile person on earth, aNarki...) but I think it was about 68 or 69 JD for 100 Euros, so I looked at aNarki and said "Mecca Mall!"

After this fruitless trip I was more than just mildly vexed and pretty parched, so we went to C-Town to grab some soft drinks. What a small place the world is! In one aisle we ran into Micho and her mother. After a bit of smalltalk we all went our seperate shopping ways.

aNarki and me ambled a bit through the area, then sat down at the Strand, his grandfather's favourite café in Amman, and had tea/a softdrink while deciding upon what to have for lunch. There was a falafel place close by, so we went there. I didn't like the food as much as the one at the place near my hotel though. Nevertheless I liberated the bread I didn't manage to eat up so I wouldn't be breadless at my apartment.
I don't think aNarki noticed, but there was a dude at another table who kept glancing in our direction. He was more discreet than most and cute into the bargain, so I didn't mind too much. ;)

Spent some time at aNarki's parents' place watching videos and begging the lazy Kid to grant us the honour of an audience on his last evening before heading back to Baghdad. Finally he gave in and picked a café close to his family's place. :P

The café was pretty packed, so aNarki and me got shooed from the large table we wanted to sit at to a smaller one.
Shortly after us Micho and her mother arrived, so we got a large table after all.
The Kid was being fashionably late. (Is that really that fashionable...?) His excuse was that he had had to cut his beard (which looked indeed freshly trimmed by the way) because I had said that he looked rather satanic. (Yes, dear, I had, but what I had meant was that haughty look you can give people and the general cut of your beard and not the (minimal) stubble, lol, so don't blame me.)
Ahhhh, I'm afraid I was less communicative than usual as I didn't know the two ladies at all. I was aware of Micho as being Morbid Smile's sister, but I think so far we had not exchanged a single comment anywhere, not counting the run-in with the two at the supermarket earlier that day of course.

At some point the Kid stole my camera to snap off a shot as proof of what a perfect pair aNarki and me'd make. (No, dear readers, he had not given up on that "old" joke yet...)

me & aNarki

As you can see aNarki doesn't just still look like some clown but has also been growing a true camel driver beard. ;)

The Kid was kind enough to stay for some time longer after Micho and her mom had left, neglecting the work he had said he had to do, for which I was thankful, as he had been rather busy chatting with Micho's mom in Arabic quite a lot earlier on.

We got shooed off to a smaller table again by the way.
I don't remember how that topic came up, but at some point the Kid asked aNarki if Kurdish was difficult to learn, to which he replied "Of course not, even Kurds can learn it." (If there's one thing you have to know about aNarki it's that - in contrast to his character - he never misses an opportunity to crack an ethnic joke.)

Finally the Kid announced that he really had to go now ([insider joke]"Poor Nabil."[/insider joke]), so I got up as well and stopped him, saying "Wait, let me get all western and sentimental," and telling him to take care back over there, to which I think he wasn't paying that much attention anymore, as he was busy standing there, unmoving, suffering getting hugged by some German madwoman. (Ever hugged a coat rack?) :P ;)
The funniest part was when I let go of him again and he said "That was weird" in a slowly-returning-to-regular-level-of-coolness tone of voice. (Already sorry you had no objections to letting me tell the story the way I perceived it? :P )

After he had trundled off I have to admit aNarki and me still had a lot of fun discussing that little scene. That is, it rather seemed to me though that aNarki sobered up a bit after reflectively remarking that he should probably start getting used to the thought of him getting hugged as well when I was going to leave Amman.

Thursday, August 17th

Finally we cashed some of my traveller cheques at the exchange office at Mecca Mall. Their rate was even more acceptable than I had thought earlier as the 0.82 was the final rate, after deduction of fees, so their rate was only 0.02 lower than that of the bank inside the airport, and not 0.06, as I had assumed.

While there, we also went to Al-Afghani where I got a bunch of typical tourist postcards.

A friend had told aNarki that he knew of a decent night club which he himself frequented. So, in the evening we met up with aNarki's long time pal, the V-Knight, and went to that place.
It was called "Rouge" but over the entrance it invitingly said "Bar & Restaurant". Shortly after we had sat down the waiter approached us and asked aNarki if they were Iraqi, which he confirmed, then if they wanted a woman. He declined. So much for this being a decent night club just for quiet drinking. But this place was definitely more classy - at least on the outside terrace; we didn't care to find out what went on inside ;) - for it was indeed possible to simply sit there and drink and only pay for the drinks and no other imaginary services. The 5 JD for the canned (!!!!) Budweiser also included a waitress in a mildy belly-free top pouring the beer for me while throwing herself into some vaguely sexy pose. Her efforts were wasted though, as I am hetero, thank you, and my male company was stoically staring at nothing (aNarki), respectively out into the street (V-Knight) instead of at belly or pose during the pouring of the beer. So I guess it's my place to remark that she looked a lot better than the ladies from that... other... place.
The beer was dreadful of course (Canned beer!), but it was beer, with alcohol in, and it was still nice already just sitting there, unmolested. The waitress was clearly bored, yet attentive and totally unobtrusive, sitting at another table on the terrace and waiting for possible drinks orders.

aNarki's and my drinks, the V-Knight's shirt

It was here by the way, Kid, that your SMS (re hug) reached me. ;)

Friday, August 18th

I was up and about before my faithful guide/entertainer/bodyguard :P was fit to come over and pick me up, so I went over to Grand Supermarket to refill my drinks stock and do some lazy food shelf browsing. The dude at the register kindly packed all my shopping into a plastic bag, but I had bought so many (heavy...) drinks that this was really impractical, even for such a short trip.
So I stopped at the corner and sat down at a ledge on the pavement and stuffed most of my shopping into the backpack I was carrying. While I was busy doing that a car abruptly braked right in the middle of the street and the dude at the wheel sat staring at me for several long seconds before driving on. Rrrrrright.

When I later told aNarki about that incident he got all worked up and apologized for not having been with me. Er. Dude. That had been meant to entertain you. And, sorry, I was there to visit you guys, not to enslave one of you as my permanent personal bodyguard.

Lunch was with the whole family (i.e. with aNarki and his parents) at the nice falafel place around the corner, which also provided me with several days' breakfast as they literally forced all the leftovers on me. (Sometimes I wonder if I look like a starved alley cat to some people......)

Later on we went to Mecca Mall, but didn't stay for too long as it was just too damned loud and crowded. Well, it was Friday.

So we spent a long lazy day at the parents' place, watching Euro Trip and Just Friends and doing the usual daily online stuff.

Saturday, August 19th

Woke up, showered, dressed, had breakfast (read: bread and hommus) in front of the tv.
Around 1pm several men started shouting out in the corridor. As they were doing that in Arabic of course I had no clue what was going on and was a tad worried.
I SMSed aNarki and told him that I didn't care about the house rules and that I wanted him to pick me up from my room if things weren't quiet again when he got to the hotel. Thankfully the corridor was quiet and empty by that time though.

We headed out to Swefiyah to wander a street my guide doesn't recall the official name of; shame on him! :P Inofficially it is called Istiklal Library Street.
Of course we also went to the Istiklal Library, where I bought some marbles for myself (yeah, I collect the oddest things ;) ) and some Pretty Ugly Pottery as a souvenir for my sister. I think I should visit her and snap a shot of that mug and put it up here; I just love it.

Pretty Ugly...

... Pottery

(My sis dropped by and brought the mug, so I could take these pics. :) )

While wandering around the area (aNarki assures me that was the day we were doing some uphill walking and I was babbling something about the Black Forest region...) we ran into his cousin. Yup, the nosy one, who had been playing airport taxi. :)

Spent some time at aNarki's parents' place again, you know, internet, blah, with aNarki busily contacting people and arranging things in the background. :)

The V-Knight picked us up and we went to Mecca Mall to meet up with Attawie. aNarki had been repairing Attawie's guitar, so this was a good opportunity to give it back to her.
From the Mall we took a taxi to al-Hussein Park, or King Hussein Park, if you prefer.
There we met with 24 and BT. We aimlessly ambled a bit through the park until we found a couple of unoccupied benches.
Hhhhhm, bugger, what do I recall? I am sure not even half of it.

Of course, some guitar was being played, "Knocking on heaven's door", for instance, and the Iraqi anthem. Maybe I should have requested the German one, lol :P

al-Hussein Park

me filming "Knocking on heaven's door" © Treasure of Baghdad

After 24 was done with his excessive SMSing (and don't you deny it; I got photographic evidence) he participated in the inevitable politics talks (lol, poor aNarki), though this time even some German politics were mentioned. Another topic was Islam and alcohol. Hhhhm, either my memory is very selective or I talked mostly to 24 that evening. He was being really sweet and trying to think of jobs I might be doing that might be more to my liking than my current one. Thanks for caring.

We tried to catch that car exhibition the Iraqi bloggers had missed on some previous visit to the park cos they had come on the one day per week when it was closed. That day was the right one but it was too late already, so no exhibition this time either.

At a fountain BT and 24 snapped off some group pictures and I am seriously pouting for not having seen a single one of them so far!

No-one had thought to bring food or drinks, so we decided to leave the park and grab something to eat at Mecca Mall. Due to our number BT and 24 took off in a different taxi again.

We were just approaching one of the escalators when two young men stepped up from the right, one of them demanding to know "What are you guys doing here?!" Which of course saved aNarki the trouble of calling or SMSing the guys to meet up again, lol. First we checked out the cinemas, then headed down again to the food court. To my delight I found that one of the meals at the Chinese place was just rice and vegetables, so I tried that. It took a while until we could sit down, as the food court was rather crowded that evening. The food was different from the Chinese food around here, but I had been kind of expecting that already, seeing that it is different over in Holland as well.
We ate, we talked some more, and suddenly the evening was at its way too early ending.

Never forget to carry your student ID in America

2006-11-17T20:48:00.000+01:00

... especially if you look like your name may be Mostafa...?

Three days ago, at around 11:30pm on Tuesday night a UCLA student by the name of Mostafa Tabatabainejad failed to produce his student ID at a random check done by Community Service Officers in the CLICC Lab in Powell Library. Furthermore he allegedly did not leave in a timely manner.
Nevertheless he was said to already have been approaching the exit when the UCPD officers whom the CSO's had called arrived. One of them grabbed the student's arm.

Now, it may be unwise to yell "Get off me" in that kind of situation but getting tasered for that and tasered at least another three times for not getting up off the floor and going with the UCPD officers seems to be a rather... drastic... response to the young man's behaviour.

Go see the movie documenting most of the incident on Safiyyah's blog and make sure to follow the link imbedded in her post, as the Daily Bruin gives a much more detailed account of everything that happened than the rather bad quality movie does.

Small blame on the camera man or woman though, quite apart from a lot of people milling around, I guess the person did not wish the officers to realize that somebody was filming the incident.

According to UCPD Assistant Chief of Police Jeff Young the "drive stun" setting used by the officers involved "would not likely demobilize a person or cause residual pain after the shock was administered". Contrary to that statement a study published in the Lancet Medical Journal in 2001 states that a charge of three to five seconds can indeed immobilize a person for five to 15 minutes, which - the Daily Bruin concludes - would mean that Tabatabainejad could have been physically unable to stand when the officers demanded that he do so. (Furthermore this type of stun has been known to kill people.)

But even if the stun did not immobilize Tabatabainejad, I can't help but wonder if he might not simply have been too terrified to get up and go with these officers. After all, if they were not shy in using the taser repeatedly in front of the other students - not to mention threaten to taser another person as well when he demanded to see an officer's badge number - what were they likely to do to him out of sight of witnesses? Hell, I know I'd have been scared of those officers.

I for one would be very interested in the officers' reasons for their behaviour.

Was it "just" the overall fear of Islamist terrorism that led to a gross overreaction, was it common racism, or was it the tendency of some officers of the law to think they're allowed to do whatever they please? Or maybe a bit of all three? The latter must at least have been part of reason or else there wouldn't have been any threats against the student who was exercising his right as an American citizen by asking to see badge numbers.

Happy Eid, everyone!

2006-10-23T18:01:00.000+02:00

Um.... guess the title already says it all...

*grins*

I am sorry...

2006-10-01T19:09:00.000+02:00

... but I have no clue when I'll feel like continuing my Amman postings again.

Yeah, I changed this post. Seems like the best thing to do, so I won't get more cryptic comments from strangers passing through.

I never meant to say Amman wasn't all fun. Sometimes things just are connected in a way.

Whatever.

Interlude

2006-09-24T11:08:00.000+02:00

Ramadan kareem everyone!!

Trip to Amman -- pt.1

2006-09-12T21:29:00.000+02:00

Note to readers: I used to keep public travel and festival diaries (you know, on paper and all) for myself and family and friends and whatnot, so this might've turned out to be a cross between that and a real blog post.
I sure know that I am writing a lot and that it takes me way too much time.
Hope you will enjoy it anyway. :)
So here's the first three days:

Sunday, August 13th

Got up way too early for a Sunday. But what with the terrorist scare of only a few days previously we thought it might be best for me to be at Düsseldorf airport around 11ish. So we had decided to leave around 9ish. "We" being my sister, her husband and me.

The trip to the airport was scary. Their car had been having some problems which - supposedly - had been fixed. They hadn't. The motor occasionally cut itself some slack and slowed down. Still, we got there.

I checked in my luggage, and after a round of hugging, good-byes and the transference of several cat hairs I walked off to the gate and passed the check in front of it in approximately five minutes. Right. So much for the accuracy of information on the news....

Fortunately I had come armed with a thick book, my discman and a ton of mp3's, so I had no trouble passing the time. I also chatted with some Iranian dude who was on his way to Turkey (with a 20 or 30 minute transfer at Schiphol, brave man...) and with a woman travelling with her baby to either GB or the US who was unhappy about having had to taste all the baby food stuff she was bringing on board the plane.

In the end the plane was almost an hour late which did not make the Iranian guy very happy, as you can probably imagine.
And what a plane it was! I knew that I'd be flying a Fokker 50 from Germany to Holland and back, but I had had no idea what kind of plane that would be. Yeah, sue me, all you plane fans out there. ;) For those of you who don't know everything there is to know about plane types...: It is fairly small (about 20 seat rows or so, with two seats on each side of the middle aisle) and has propellers.
The take-off was less smooth than on board a bigger plane and had me battling dizziness. (Thank you anonymous Turkish fellow low-blood-pressured dude on my first flight ever aaaages ago for the seemingly senseless tip about how to deal with this problem!)
As there was no real meal on the short flight, there hadn't been a meal request option available, but everyone got a drink of orange juice and a filled cookie, which I pocketed.

Well, for me the delay had the nice effect of shortening my long stay in Amsterdam. Still, I had enough time to buy drinks and a 5-pack of Smelly Jelly (© aNarki-13 on August 27th; actually it's Snelle Jelle), which is a "gezond lekkere kruidkoek, van nature vetarm". Dutch - you just gotta love it.

Despite my reservations after having seen the bigger KLM planes from the bus that took us from the Fokker to the gate (it says "The Flying Dutchman" on them....) I continued my journey to Amman.

By then I was having real second thoughts about my trip. Not for any of the funky reasons my colleagues and neighbours came up with, but for the simple reason that I am more shy in real life than you could gather from this blog here, and having arranged to meet all those "strange" people was starting to freak me out some.

Anyway, I bravely boarded one of the Flying Dutchman's planes and settled down for the 4.5 hour flight.
Spent most of the time reading and listening to my discman again. Dinner was some chicken curry thing for the regular passengers. Smelled nice.

boarding pass

Me, I had a cup of water (ick...), cous-cous, a slice of Snelle Jelle (lmao) and a fruit salad.

Some time before midnight we started circling Amman, going deeper with each turn. Now this will probably sound totally corny and dumb, but Amman looks grand from above at night. As if someone has taken a handful of jewels and scattered them across a couple of hills.

At around 0:05 local time I arrived at Queen Alia airport (Amman), powdered my nose, claimed my luggage, cashed a traveller cheque at the bank counter there and went through customs, where the very nice young man chatted some with me and wished me a nice holiday.

Then I went out into the hall and pretty soon espied the famed aNarki-13 and his cousin.

And what a cousin she is! During the longish ride into town she kept firing questions at me:
- How come you picked Jordan for your holiday?
- What made you become a vegetarian?
- What do you do for a living?
- Are you involved? Do you have a boy-friend?
And on and on.

Among the few sentences aNarki-13 was able to utter in between was the sad news that I wouldn’t be able to meet Morbid Smile after all, as she had gone back to Iraq already.

Don't know at which time we arrived at the hotel.
Once they had checked me in, aNarki-13 and his cousin took off while Mr Mainly Night Duty took me and my luggage to my room.
So, this was Amman, and that had been aNarki-13.
Good night.

Monday, August, 14th

Woke up, had a cold shower, dressed, breakfasted on Smelly Jelly (© aNarki-13) and Dutch coke and took pictures of my room and of the view I had from my bedroom window.

"my" street

My apartment consisted of a bedroom, a living/eating-room, a kitchenette with a scary gas powered plate which I never dared use and a bathroom.

Around midday aNarki came and picked me up and showed me way too many places for me to get my bearings right away.
First we went to Grand supermarket to get some essentials like chips, drinks and toilet paper.
After dumping all that at my apartment I fed aNarki the filled Dutch cookie from the Fokker flight while we marched to Mecca Mall. The cookie had disintegrated some (sensitive, crumbly cookie...), but he said it tasted good.

We wandered around the Mall for a while, then aNarki contacted the Kid, who agreed to meet us there.
Soon the Kid got hungry so we sat down in the food court and had some drinks while watching the Kid eat.
Halfway through his burger he threw out the veggies and put in his fries. Fascinating.

food court playground and people

Iraqi burger

He merrily tucked in, which might have been a sign of him feeling better after having had a cold. On the other hand... maybe he's just always hungry.
After having watched the Kid dining for about three hours (ok, that's exaggerating things a bit, but it did take him some time) I was pretty hungry myself, so we strolled off to get a bite of falafel and hommus at a restaurant.
We being aNarki and me; the Kid took off in a taxi.

My memory is a bit hazy on what happened next, but I think we went to aNarki's parents' place. Yes?

In the evening aNarki took me to Wakalat Street, a street that's closed for cars in the evenings, where just about anyone goes to stroll around and/or sit down at a café to watch the strollers and chase away the beggars/kids selling stuff.
One girl was rather cheeky and hit aNarki over the head with her bunch of plastic flowers when he sent her away. That seemed to be to his liking, as he told her he'd buy something off her next time.

When the novelty of counting the people who stared at my tattoo had worn off, aNarki asked the Kid to come join us.
I still go all tearful with recollection remembering the great effort the Kid went to in order to make me feel right at home. He kept claiming that aNarki and me'd be making a nice couple and similar crap that very much reminded me of the kind of talk I always get from my colleague A. whenever he hears of me visiting friends overnight...

All the while the young man was continuously smoking sheesha, which - in combination with his recent cold - led to him losing a lot of voice in the course of the evening. I wonder what they put into the sheesha anyway; he became decidedly merry.
On our way out of the street we did indeed run into the little flower seller again, so aNarki kept his word and - me being the only woman present I assume - gave the flower to me. (And, yes, I took it home of course.)

one of the famous combat flowers

The end of this long day aNarki and me spent at his parents' place again, and if I am not mistaken, this was also the night on which his mother "force-fed" me after hearing that I hadn't had any dinner yet. Seriously, I'd have demanded food if I had been hungry. :)

At 2:45am aNarki returned me to my hotel after almost 15 hours straight of playing my entertainer/travel guide. Respect and thanks, man!

Tuesday, August 15th

Not very surprisingly we both kind of overslept on Tuesday after that long day.

I confusedly ambled off in several directions, trying to remember where that bank was that aNarki had pointed out to me in passing the day before.
Eventually I reached the Arab Bank and took my place in the longish queue. When it was finally my turn I asked the lady at the counter what the exchange rate for traveller cheques made out in Euros was. "0.89," she told me, but after I had handed her the cheques and my passport she disappeared into the office area and returned only after quite some time. "Is it ok if I call you [my first name]? [My first name], I am sorry, but we don't accept these." I was quite taken aback by that piece of news, as you can probably imagine. She suggested going to the Bank of Jordan. I dejectedly crawled back to my hotel to wait for my self-appointed travel guide.

On top of being sleepy aNarki must have caught a cold and was running around in a heavy sweater while I was melting in the midday heat...

He took me to an exchange office in the area, where the guy at the counter offered me 60 JD for a cheque over 100 Euros. It had not even crossed my mind to try and barter over the exchange rate but our reaction led to him bartering. All of a sudden he offered a (in comparison) staggering 75 JD for my cheque. Which was apparently as high as he was willing to go, for he did not raise his offer when I declined. "If you had Euros, not cheques, I could give you 90," he said though. Deciding on the spot that the almost 30 Euros that'd leave me with should be all I'd be needing back in Europe (especially considering that I had a credit card now) I changed 100 Euros there so that I'd have some ready cash until we could cash my cheques at the other bank.

Then we zombied off to Mecca Mall, where we tried to revive our spirits with soft drinks (me) and tea (aNarki).
We also got turned away by a bank in the building and checked the exchange rate at the exchange office on the ground floor. At the airport I had gotten a rate of .88 minus a fee of 4JD, so their offered 82 JD for 100 Euros didn't make me too happy.

On this memorable day aNarki helped himself to some of the food at the falafel place. Not so memorable, you say? A-ha! Little do you know, grasshopper.

For later he had arranged for a meeting with Treasure of Baghdad and 24 Steps to Liberty. At Wakalat Street again, but after meeting up with BT and 24 we went to sit at another place than the night before.

Walkabout Creek... er...

... Wakalat Street

(Note: the shoulders on the side(s) of the pictures belong to 24 and BT.)

I don't know how obvious it was but - like with Attawie later, and for the same reason - meeting BT and 24 for the first time made me rather nervous, as I hadn't had that much online contact with them in advance. But I think I did fairly well ;) and it sure was a nice evening. :)

I suppose it's impossible to get together with BT and 24 without talking politics, which is fine by me. Talking politics, that is, not politics.
What else? The usual round of questions of course, like what made you come here and all. I really should have prepared some papers to hand out to people. :)
Oh, and I think BT said I was the first German he met.
After some prodding the Kid finally joined us as well.

Time passed way too quickly, and BT and 24 left us. The Kid, aNarki and me stayed for a while, then wandered out of Wakalat Street, being undecided whether to go home already or not.
The Kid suggested going to a night club, but had we known that there were no decent night clubs in the vicinity we wouldn't have agreed. What a seedy little brothel that was, with some dude making music at an earsplitting noise level, Amstel beer with probably 0.5% of alcohol and not so sexy ladies coming to shake our hands. Brrr.

Trip to Amman -- Prologue

2006-09-03T19:04:00.000+02:00

I may be a little late in telling/posting but before and during my trip I just felt too preoccupied to sit down and write anything.

Everyone's been asking the same questions, so here goes:

The story of me conceiving of the idea of going to Amman.

As I was having some spare money (well, not actually spare money as such *cough, cough* but accessible money ;) ) I had decided to treat myself to a real holiday this year, possibly in Turkey or somewhere. Sometime after my colleague A.'s and the boss' vacation. Whenever.

Then I heard that aNarki-13 was not just staying in Amman for a short while but for weeks.
And Attawie was there as well.
About 20 unanswered yahoo offline messages, 10 SMSs - unanswered - and one threat to phone him (just to be silent at him) later the Kid confirmed that he'd be staying until around the end of August as well.

A quick calculation showed that even with the boss going on a three-week vacation it should be possible for me to go to Amman and still see all of these people.
Of course, with bosses things are never quite as straightforward as they seem to regular people, but after a couple of - long - days spent anxiously waiting for his final verdict things worked out the way I wanted them to. (You feel like a rather sorry sod phoning the Jordanian embassy asking about how long it will take them to put a visa into the passport that you have applied for three weeks ago and which should be arriving soonish while not even knowing whether the holiday is going to take place or not....)

Well, it was going to take place, and right after I got the ok from the boss I went to the nearest travel agency to book my flights.
Took the lady there some heavy wrestling but then she managed to include my meal request in the booking and to arrange for an earlier flight than the computer originally wanted to book for the first leg of the journey. The original booking would have left me with only one hour to change planes at Schiphol (Amsterdam) airport - with only one KLM flight from Amsterdam to Amman per night! Better having four hours to waste than the possibility of missing the flight and arriving in Amman a full day later.
She also - as per my request - tried to book me onto a later second flight for the return trip, but either the computer didn't accept it or she made some mistake. She figured it might be because that would leave me with a stay of six hours at Schiphol airport. But she assured me that I'd have no trouble changing planes in the 50 minutes that the booking left me with. Well, what the heck, I thought, if I miss that plane, there'll be several going back from Amsterdam to Germany on that day.

Even earlier I had ordered a load of traveller cheques and finally gotten myself a credit card, so nothing could go wrong anymore. :)

Unfortunately Caesar of Pentra went on vacation in Syria a tad earlier and could not make it to Amman, nor could the Average Iraqi (note: blog still "dead", author happily not :) ) leave Iraq (Get a passport, you bozo!) but more and more people seemed to be flocking there, such as Morbid Smile, Treasure of Baghdad and 24 Steps to Liberty.

When I first started planning my trip to Jordan, my Turkish/Kurdish/Martian colleague A. was already away on his holiday. As he is constantly poking fun at me - or rather implying improper behaviour on my part - whenever he hears of me going to festivals or parties and sharing tents or bedrooms, another colleague and me were wondering what his reaction might be when he returned and heard of my plans. I laughed and said "I should tell him I'm going there to marry aNarki." S.: "Do that!"

So the plan was born. On his first day back at work we kept dropping hints that he unfortunately failed to pick up on. What with him usually being "nosy as a goat" as we Germans say our only explanation for this was that he was still dreaming of his holiday.

Hints included
- me showing a picture of aNarki to a colleague, K., and practically bouncing up and down with joy while announcing that that was HIM by the way and her answering that he looked like a very nice person,
- K. inquiring whether I'd have to be veiled for the wedding.

Finally, a few minutes before my lunch break, I simply showed him the pic, asking his opinion. First he got sidetracked by the other people shown in the photo, then he too announced aNarki to be looking like a friendly person. When I told him that I was going to marry him A. totally disappointed us by merely saying "Congratulations!"

After both him and me had returned from our respective lunch breaks he asked another colleague, Ma., if that marriage story was really true. She said it was, so A. simply accepted it. Blast! S. and me had expected him to be sceptical and - once finally convinced the story was true - to try and talk me out of marrying a person I had never met before. Behind my back he apparently expressed some reservations but not to me, oh no. Actually, he was being so nice and helpful (giving tips for immigration and whatnot) that the joke wasn't funny at all and I soon felt so bad about it that I prematurely cancelled it before S. was due to work that week.

But the joke stirred up something else.
Ma. started getting the idea that what with me meeting several young men over there I might end up marrying someone else. I don't know what possessed her to get this into her head - she knew right from the start that the thing regarding aNarki and me was a joke to pay A. back for all his past comments on me and my male friends and nothing else - but she kept discussing it.

Kept discussing it first mainly as a joke as well but then with mounting concern, probably due to my replies. But how can you reply to someone who's convinced that marrying an Arab - any Arab - automatically results in you ending up wearing hijab (or worse)? So I answered stuff like "Look here, if I were to marry any of the Iraqis I know and started wearing hijab they'd declare me insane cos none of them would want me to." Somehow for her this seemed to imply that I might seriously be considering marriage.

She also told me to not get too involved with the locals when saying goodbye and wishing me a nice holiday. I didn't even ask whether she meant actual Jordanians or the bloggers I was going to meet, as I felt it didn't really matter anyway.
Camel drivers, the lot of them!

A neighbour only half-jokingly asked what I'd do if I got kidnapped into a harem, while his wife was more concerned with Jordan's vicinity to Israel and Lebanon.

So, dear readers, I spent my entire holiday sitting in my hotel apartment and ordering pizza which I had them deposit in front of my door.
The weather was a steady 25°, thanks to the AC in the bedroom; the scenery got a bit boring though after two weeks of staring out into the same street.

Finally!!!!

2006-08-08T20:40:00.000+02:00

My passport arrived back today...

So this is really going to happen...

2006-07-10T21:11:00.000+02:00

... I will be flying to Jordan.

Can someone please explain to me why the flight is cheaper if I fly back one day later than originally planned? (Well, I wouldn't call it a day; I'll have to fly back in the middle of the night...)

Lol, I want to say so much, but I don't know where to start, so I'll better leave it.

Attawie, finish moving - or whatever it was - and read your emails! :) ;)

Graspop 2006

2006-07-05T22:17:00.000+02:00

Wow, it seems people have been missing me, so let me bore you to tears with the story of my weekend! :D

Due to the late decision/opportunity to go to Graspop this year the most sensible way to still obtain a ticket was to ask M. in Arnhem to get one for me.
A long story about free train rides and late arrivals follows, so let's skip that and just say that this lead to me getting up at fucking 3:00 in the morning on Friday, picking up my ticket in Arnhem before the Dutchies boarded their train and heroically arriving earlyish and reserving a nice spot for our tents and the gazebo on the camping ground in Dessel.

When the others finally arrived I felt like kissing the ground, as after hours of me defending my piece of pasture against the enemy all by myself the neighbours became pushy and asked about putting one of their tents a bit into my reserved space and then merrily - but thankfully slowly - went about setting up two tents. Buuuut the others arrived just in time. :)

For us, Friday was a slow day, meaning we had a lot of time to check out the toilets, food and drink before it was time for the others to "see" Lacuna Coil. Well, there isn't much to see if you're sitting on the ground. ;)

Then it was Moonspell time, but what with the distance and lighting I unfortunately cannot provide any pictures. The video clip I made is equally blurry, but I'll just "watch" "Opium" with closed eyes then, lol.

It was dark; it was cold, but we bravely waited till 1:20 in the morning, passing the time by meeting Kenny, putting Kenny into a straitjacket and J. and R. hallucinating that they were in World of Warcraft, and not the real world. Well, I suppose sitting in the dusty cold does that to you. When the cold freezes your brain, and the dirt starts eating away at your bronchi....

Kenny, er, J.!

And then, the highlight of the evening - for me probably of the weekend: Die Krupps.

Die Krupps...

I had thought that after Lee Altus had left and Engler founded DKay.Com, Die Krupps had become the past, over and done with.
And then they were announced for Graspop! At some point Engler mentioned that it was their 25th anniversary, and the backdrop suggested the same. But.... that was a very ominous backdrop.

... or not Die Krupps?

Why are the Die Krupps rings crossed out? Is this just an anniversary tour, or will we be hearing more of Die Krupps again in the future? I'd appreciate the latter, as I don't really like DKay.Com. Yeah, sue me, Mr Engler! ;)
A few songs (e.g. "Alive") sounded a lot more electronical than I remembered them, but still very Die Krupps. That concert was great. And Jürgen Engler was great. He may not have very many moves, but he performs them with grace and he does have stage presence.

Saturday was my busiest day. But first I had a very photogenic guest lounging on my tent:

Then it was time for some Florida noise, i.e....

...Obituary

Check out their equally bad pic of the crowd on their homepage!

It was very, very stifling in that tent, but it was to become worse:

Stone Sour, main stage, out in the blazing sun. Yes, Caesar, that's when I was whining at you about heat strokes... or rather after their gig.
What can I say? Liked their show, got my brain fried through....

"This song is dedicated to the great American traitor, Mr. George Bush. This song is about real freedom."

Close to the end of their set Corey saw himself in one of the big screens on the side of the stage, which led to the following little conversation with the audience:

"Do I look like that? I look like shit.
Do I look like shit?"
"YEAH!"
"Fuck you too."

As I was well done by then I used the break to trudge back to the camping, where I rested a bit and washed my arms and wet my hair in the tent with the wash basins. That cooled me down a treat and kept me refreshed for... like.... 10 minutes?

Talking about the camping, this sign did confuse me a bit.

No hunting?!

But I had brought my bow and arrows and my gutting knife! Dang!!!

I barely made it back in time to see Alice in Chains (main stage, out in the sun of course...), but I was very disappointed. Not that their new singer was bad, but if the voice of a band dies, they're in a spot of trouble. The show totally sucked for me; sorry, dude.

My Dying Bride...

... made me forget that right away. Aaaaaah, sweet whiny melancholy... :)

Was too far away from the stage and Soulfly then for any postable pics, but I took a nice picture of a young lady who - like her boyfriend - was trying to avoid inhaling the flying dust that just crept everywhere:

terrorist ;)

Lol, I just saw that I also captured a "nice" belly in a men's skirt in that pic. Enjoy!

After Soulfly I peeked into the tent Opeth were playing at, but that was too odd for me after that long and hectic day, so I wandered back to the camping.

Things got even odder on the way there. The security people sitting in front of the comfy crew camping area were listening to..... Celine Dion! Mildly traumatized I stumbled on and fell into nightmare-ridden sleep in my tent. I think I was at sea. ;)

Good thing that Sunday was such a slow and relaxing day for me then. ;)

As a Coal Chamber fan I had to go and see Devil Driver of course. What can I say? Dez needs a diet :P ; and I wish he'd still sing and not just scream. Nothing against screaming, but he has such a wonderful singing voice, at least in my opinion, so I miss that of course.
The show was great, and Dez is too nice too be metal, lol.

"There are some little motherfuckers in the pit - 11 or so - so be careful.
Man, I love this shit!"

He didn't just seem to care for the safety of the little motherfuckers, but also about the safety of all motherfuckers.

Is a circle pit the in thing these days? I have no idea.

Anyway, on the first day some old school band on the main stage (Y&T? I think it was them; who cares...) wanted a circle pit as well. Their only concern seemed to be that people should only form it in the exact moment the band wanted and not at any other time.

Dez wanted one as well, for the duration of a whole song. So what did he do? He told people to open up a huge space in front of the stage (5x5 or 6x6 m, I'm not good at estimating measurements) to have room for the circle pit. Didn't see anyone get hurt in there, not even the little motherfuckers - who really looked like being 11 or so. :)

As my festival food source had run out of rice and I don't like his noodles, I sadly trudged back to camping and had some icky Belgian French fries and coffee. While I was sitting there the Flood happened, er, I mean, it rained. Mightily. When things had calmed down a bit I hurried back to the tents, as they had been giving out (thunder) storm warnings all day long. Luckily T., Kenny, er, J. and S. were back as well, so I had some help in taking down the gazebo. For that I was very thankful not so much later when the storm hit while I was whiling away the time reading in my tent (I said Sunday was a slow day for me...). We had another Flood, thunder and lightning and wind enough for my one tent wall occasionally ducking into the tent and saying hello to me. Was a tad scary weathering out the weather there....
Little did I know what the day would still bring...

S. put it so accurately: "It's amazing how the little guy can produce all those vocals." (Don't hit me if that wasn't a 100% true quote; I'm senile.)

Cradle of Filth

Caught the little Brit out on something during "From the cradle to enslave" though. Sometimes it does pay off to try and pay attention to screamed lyrics. At some point he sang "I don't know the fucking words to this song... *mumble, mumble*" Hilarious.

After that we split up. S., T., Kenny, er J. and me got some drinks and returned to the tents.

We went to sleep, or in some cases tried to.

I don't know if you are familiar with this odd spreading habit of people at festivals. They take either old tents or are fucking rich farts.
Because on the morning after the festival there always are people who set their tent on fire instead of taking it home again. It must've become such a widespread habit that the Graspop people are even mentioning on their website that it is forbidden to burn your tent there.

So. I was just undressing/changing when I heard a mixed group of men discussing in English that they felt like setting a tent on fire right now. The notice on the website was mentioned, and that they had to exactly time this because of the fire brigade patrols. Someone asked if it was illegal, and someone else said "No, of course it's not!" One of them started wandering around and hollered at a tent that the people inside had to leave it now, no joking, and if they had a lighter, please.
In the end they rather settled for lighting up the downed tent beside mine.

From the inside of my tent it sounded as if they had dragged it up right against mine, which frightened me some. (I had ceased undressing and started to sit listening with wide eyes some time ago...) From the sound of it they were all drunk; and who'd light their tent with one night still ahead anyway?! So when it became obvious that they were seriously going to set it on fire there and now, I crawled half out, but they had dragged it away to the "sensible" distance of maybe 3m off.

The fire brigade was there within one or two minutes and put out what was left of it... Two men had quit the scene the moment the fire truck appeared on the horizon.

I was still spooked, so I read for about an hour or so by the light of my flashlight.

Sometime then people started arriving back from the festival. I didn't get much of what was said, but one thing I did get: one of the new arrivals was the owner of the tent. He stayed calm and alerted security. I think it was a security guy whom I heard on the phone right behind my tent some time later talking about the young man wanting to involve the police, and that several tents had been burned on the camping area. (He obligingly spoke very slowly and well-modulated which helps a German understand Dutch... or Flemish, if you're in Belgium. Whatever.)

T. told me in the morning that he heard at some point that someone fell over a tent. So that was the reason it was down, not that people had already been taking it down...

Actually, the poor sod's belongings had been in as well of course.

Fat chance they'll catch 'em (the two leaving were the main driving force...) but a gal can wish. They should be punished for that. Burning other people's property is not metal, that's the behaviour of scum. And being drunk is no excuse.

I wish I hadn't mistaken them for some idiots lighting their own old tent...

But to something more enjoyable. After breaking camp on Monday morning we hauled our belongings into the breakfast tent and had breakfast, coffee, or nothing, depending on taste and mood.

A couple of benches on some guy suddenly raised a sorry breadroll or something, speared with wooden forks, into the air and started singing "Happy birthday", motioning for people to join in. (Was it really someone's birthday by the way? Do tell!) I went over when they were done with the singing and set to lighting the "candles".

Pictures published with permission: :D

P.S.: Especially for you, Davie:

the Dutch - German border at Venlo

Wish us good weather! :s

2006-06-22T14:50:00.000+02:00

Sorry, guys (and gals), you will have to do without my comments and chats this weekend, as I will be in Belgium.

I hope the weather will get better than what's been predicted. *sighs*

Oh, well, we'll see.

I suppose I will spam you with pictures of sweaty musicians upon my return. :D

Hey, where are you going? Come baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!!!

GRASPOP!!!!!

Now Momma cactus is showing off!

2006-06-02T21:29:00.000+02:00

Like I mentioned in my comment, one might almost think she wants to show the little one's how it's done.

My first count was off. If I include the bloom that fell off, she brought forth 20 buds.

The first opened this night, so this morning I took a shot of seven blooms, plus the one lying on the window sill.

old show-off

During the day a couple more opened or half opened and the lowest one from last night is already shrivelling, so I'd say depending on how you count them +/- eleven are open now.

And - yes - one of these days I'm gonna wash the bird droppings off of that window there.

The moving life story of a cactus

2006-05-26T21:34:00.000+02:00

One December many, many years ago a little cactus and its brothers got purchased by a very thoughtless woman. In case of the little cacti thoughtless to the point of evil.

Like many thoughtless women she is mainly occupied with making cute gestures.
That year she gave all of her birthday guests a little reminder of the nice party they had attended - a cactus. And what with Christmas not being far away she sprayed all the cacti with snow spray. Awwwwwwwwwwwwww, lookey, how cute! Lookey how cute the suffocating cacti look! Awwwwwwww!
I presume the little cactus' brothers all died a slow death, but let us not dwell on this.

One little cactus was given to us, and we - fuming with rage (and getting covered in thorns) - scrubbed the little cactus as gently as humanly possible clean under running warm water. Not all of the spray came off, and some thorns were lost, but after a long period of waiting and watching the little cactus it became clear that it had survived.

It started growing, further cracking up the spray remains and enlarging the clean surface areas. Brave little cactus!
All those years it slowly grew, but it never came to real health. It grew very crooked and with a "waist" that was way too slim for it.
One fatal day not too long ago the not so little anymore cactus fell off the window sill, breaking in two!

Not wanting to give up on the more healthy upper part of the cactus yet, our father tried planting it into a flowerpot. And it survived.
And now, after all these years, this upper part brought forth its first blooms ever.

the two halves

We never would have thought it from the bedraggled and crippled way the cactus used to look, but the blooms proved it to be our third (and fourth?) Königin der Nacht (Queen of the night).

And - lo and behold! - last night the little cactus opened its very first bloom. I suppose the others will follow suit tonight.

And it's not even alone in this timid display of its beauty and fragrance, one of the older ones was keeping it company, opening three of its blooms that same night:

the ones who never knew snow spray

A bit of art...

2006-05-01T12:32:00.000+02:00

untitled

Hard rock for others
Quicksand for herself
That’s what she’s been
She thinks - at least
Good friend to turn to
Ethics to scoff at

Shoulder to cry on
Friendship to count on
Then to switch off
Once they find love
No time to listen
To her anymore

Always too silent
Hoping that good friends
Will understand
Thoughts half spoken
Should they be able?
She always wonders

Never a bad word
Clinging to feelings
That seem long dead
But even so
There is a limit
To what she can bear

As she grows older
But none the wiser
Loyalties shift
Attitudes change
She stares in wonder
For here she stands - alone

Brussels

2006-04-26T00:35:00.000+02:00

First of all... Hi, Annika! *waves* I can see you poking your nose in here, you know. :D Kann dann ja doch nich' so kompliziert sein....? ;)

Anyway, damn Frenzie for being faster than me in posting about our trip to Brussels last Friday!

While Frenzie was taking pictures of submarines I hastily packed my last few things, then headed out to his place.
After a - barely - vegan meal, a not very good movie ("AI") and a way too short night we started to Brussels at around 9:00 am. Rather surprisingly - after the coldish Thursday - the temperature was around the 20°C mark when we arrived 3.5 hours later at our host's place. What was at least equally surprising was that we did not have to pull over a dozen times to find out where we were, nor drive around the block ten times before resigning ourselves to park illegally anyway, as happened on both of my previous trips to Brussels. Brussels is a nightmare to navigate through, but fortunately our host had moved to a different area (and a wayyyyy bigger flat) that was easier to find, and allowed parking all along the streets. Actually we managed to park almost right across from the house.

Also, Brussels has recently introduced guards for parked cars, as we found out when heading out to the venue a while later:

cat security

And this is me taking the pic of the little bugger:

© Frenzie 2006

The actual venue was the oddest one I've seen so far. Le Botanique is a small club situated in a more or less airy (in some places stifling) complex mostly covered by glass, beside a very small park.
The other thing I found most odd was the total lack of security. No-one asked us if we had a right to enter the venue hours before the show. Yes, we arrived with a member of the local opening act, but no-one was there to take note of that and remember our faces or anything. Even later at the gig... apart from two people at the door checking the tickets there was no security at all. Weird Belgians. ;)

Le Botanique

After having handed two drugged vegan sausages to the main act's singer - under the pretext of once having talked about those sausages on the chat - Frenzie and I decided to take a stroll through Brussels, which eventually led us to the Parc de Bruxelles. Sadly, the only interesting thing about that "park" was a fountain. But the rainbow inside tried to add a bit of glamour to it all.

Parc de Bruxelles

The fountain also occasionally contained a mad dog, who kept running half circles around the fountain and stopping for the odd drink.

"Fetch!"

Well, you can only look at five trees for so long, so eventually we headed back to Le Botanique. Halfway there we spotted a strange Dutch-Scandinavian tourist group, being led by two confused Belgians, heading in the opposite direction on the other side of the road. Their directionless ambling seemed to promise some modest entertainment, so we decided to join them.
Some tourists wished to see the famed Manneken Pis (if you don't know what that is, dear readers, just don't ask, ok, you don't want to know), so the would-be guides finally started asking directions to Grand Place.
At some other square the Scandinavian faction admired the merchandise of a souvenir shop, showing particular interest in the hats and sunglasses.

super-cool head gear

.....

*almost finding the perfect sunglasses*

This and buying a toothbrush severely exhausted the whole group, so we all sat down for a beer (and a coffee) at that same square.
Yeah, you guessed right, we never actually made it to Grand Place or the Manneken Pis.
The odd Scandinavians soon headed back to the venue with one of the guides, and - luckily - arrived as safely as the rest of us did with the second guide a while later.

Back at the venue a very nice person put us on a very nice list, and not long after that the local opening act started to play.

Shogun

Look, it's one of the guides, drinking a beer and enjoying Shogun!!

Smommy

After that Frenzman and me rather enjoyed the cooler air outside of the actual club and missed the second opener, Superbutt. Yeah, shame on us!
We went back in again for Clawfinger though. ;)

Zak's left leg, Jocke

more of Zak, Jocke pointing at... what?

Henka

Bård

Jocke again

Zak

Zak, finally spacing out on the sausages ;)

"You can't catch me, try to catch me if you can,

you can't catch me, try to catch me if you can,

you can't

catch

me..."

Or can they?

Bård & André

Jocke, Zak

After the show we shivered a bit outside, then grabbed something to pour into our parched throats and collapsed at a table, wondering where Julien had disappeared to.

Well, he finally appeared and organized a ride back to his flat for us, then he went out to work and party some more.

Weird Dutchie, trying to invent the kamikaze sleeping position......

no comment

Ok, kids...

2006-04-19T23:53:00.000+02:00

... I'll be gone for a couple of days, so be good and don't make too much of a mess, ok?

To keep you busy till I'm back....

... here's a pic of some weird bugs I saw today....

Hi there!

2006-04-17T19:17:00.000+02:00

Nice of you to drop in. Go on, have a seat!
*shuts door*

Yeah, thanks, I think that's a really cool colour as well. *blushes*

Wow, did these days just rush by you like that as well? One day it's Good Friday, and the whole long weekend is up ahead, and all of a sudden the freaking acolytes have been there chanting and making a ruckus at 2am on Sunday morning (And had the nerve to come collect money later at a more reasonable time of day. Do I look like a Catholic? Buzz off, the lot of you!) and the heavy smell of wood smoke from Sunday evening has left the air....

Is something the matter?

Well, and now it's Monday already; the weekend is over, and there's another boring work day up ahead.

Yes, that's a flowerpot, very nice plant in, even if I say so myself; are you paying attention to what I am saying? Why are you sniffing the plant, it has no flowers, now, has it...?

Anyway, at least those'll only be two days of work before I have time off again. I am going to go to that concert in Brussels; I'm sure you remember...

... What exactly are you doing there poking around in that corner?

It's me, ok? Me!
I smell like a mud pit! Yes, don't look at me like that. It's because of my hair. Or rather the colour. You know how I've been complaining about the dies destroying my hair? Well, now I went and bought some natural henna and whatnot colour. Why don't you just open a window then?

Ooh, sorry 'bout the watering can; I always put it in awkward places. Good thing you only watered your hands, haha. Well, you know where I keep my towels.

Hey, what's the matter, why are you cursing like that?! Hey, wait!!! What the....?

*picks up towel*
*sighs*

*opens window and hollers at departing car*
Hey, I know what it looks like, but it's only that henna stuff!!!

Hm.

*shuts window*

*sits down and admires self in mirror*

I may smell of mud and have a bathing towel that looks as if someone with some serious diarrhoea has been using it as toilet paper, but I really dig my new hair colour!

Happy Easter!

2006-04-14T02:41:00.000+02:00

The calendar keeps yelling "Spring!!!!!" at me, but still it's not really showing. It just keeps on raining, sleeting and more or less freezing.

To evoke the spirit of spring I shall post this picture that I took last year on the 28th day of October.

This lovely butterfly was sitting above our kitchen window, drinking in the late, late warm autumn sun just like everybody else was.

Not really much to tell otherwise.

Somebody sent me a funny movie (*smirks*).

It's frigging cold.

Work sucks more than usual.

I turned 33.

It's frigging cold.

Tomorrow (today...) I'm invited to a party with dreadful beer. Will have to think of something to take with me. Preferably something that'll keep me alert enough to be able to wrestle A. and J. for a sleeping place on the sofa and win. Taking up the generous offer of sharing C.'s bed with him is not an option should he offer that again, considering he tried to push me through the wall that one time I did sleep there. Sheesh, what a night that was. Anyone ever tried wrestling a fast asleep, dead drunk guy while all you wanna do is sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep...?
Apart from the beer it'll be cool to see some good friends again.
(Note to self: don't forget Easter sweets for C.)

Next week by this time I'll be fast asleep in Enschede, Holland, eagerly awaiting the next day that'll take Frenzie and me into a nightmare, er, to Brussels, Belgium, J. - our most gracious host, a Clawfinger gig, N. - the lovely Merch Bitch and a Dutch asshole that'll hopefully stay as far away from me as possible.
(Note to self: refrain from braining R.; that'd be considered bad style.)

Did I mention that it's frigging cold?

Happy Easter everyone!!!

Last Monday...

2006-04-02T19:57:00.000+02:00

... I took the car out to the woods close to the river Ems.

Seeing how nice the last water pictures had turned out to be I walked over to the river first.

real river spray this time

view into dam under the bridge

view upriver

yeah, more flowers

And a few pictures, the taking of which made me seriously seasick:

view...

... down from...

... the bridge

true cross roads of paved road and forest path

tired tree, resting its branch on the ground

same tree from other side

the ditch it's leaning across

tree that I suspect likes to go for the occasional walk...

... or what do you think?

approaching dusk & thunderstorm

Hey, this is really fun!
Although I have to admit that traipsing around wildernesses for more than an hour at a time really takes it out of an untrained, lazy person such as me. *blushes*
Maybe that's a good reason to do that more often this summer - if I can find the time.