tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83181534464258314552024-02-19T15:57:28.142+01:00Bobby BlueUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger421125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-28538082081306355112021-04-07T12:35:00.003+02:002021-04-07T15:01:48.603+02:00421<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAyBOH3ULlUyxDAQi9XGYm3CPX2JWT2RfOfXgUFc4hOMRmjLzEadPb4mlKFU85psgpR4QbZjbku3Uwb5mlhMpoYAsCAGQqnno54B7FXFwV8cMZWJbNxAjiIR5sAY6-JV1xtkuc8eim1Ia8/s800/Blog-04.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAyBOH3ULlUyxDAQi9XGYm3CPX2JWT2RfOfXgUFc4hOMRmjLzEadPb4mlKFU85psgpR4QbZjbku3Uwb5mlhMpoYAsCAGQqnno54B7FXFwV8cMZWJbNxAjiIR5sAY6-JV1xtkuc8eim1Ia8/s16000/Blog-04.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyqemoR1vflqH_Fq-Cr7-2vtsaxwRPObxJR78AU8FBJIAqeJQ4Lrmt1PlGz3lBEArIunEdtLf00iaVrVtvnkyIRuiVgXBTcKeB-4BKquj-h8Axv8ZOfJMVL3BdcAbVGdIACLj6F3zuU9ce/s800/Blog.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="524" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyqemoR1vflqH_Fq-Cr7-2vtsaxwRPObxJR78AU8FBJIAqeJQ4Lrmt1PlGz3lBEArIunEdtLf00iaVrVtvnkyIRuiVgXBTcKeB-4BKquj-h8Axv8ZOfJMVL3BdcAbVGdIACLj6F3zuU9ce/s16000/Blog.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Looking at these pictures of a warm week, last summer, I can feel the grass under my feet again.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">The garden so lush and colourful; even more wild, more magical than it had ever been. The children are running around, too fast for my camera to capture them. So I photograph the colours, the drops of water, the little paper crafts hung in the bushes.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Being on the farm in the summer is so different than our visits in the winter. The winterdays are dark, naps and knitting by the oven. The house seems so much smaller then. In the summer we run through the garden, climbing in trees, climbing on people, juicy fruit making everyone sticky. Cheeky smiles and just so much joy.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">We had a party, the first party again (and the last one since then). Children making gintonics and getting everybody drunk. Dancing and dancing until the grass turned into mud and we had to take off our shoes. Ich liebe dich. And then; 2 at night, the 8-year-old runs inside the house and returns with the clock, eyes and cheeks bright red, but so happy she is still awake. "Ich bin noch wach!!!" Cheers all over, and we carry her (to bed) like a champion, chanting her name.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-21439353075410915632014-02-18T20:58:00.000+01:002014-02-18T20:58:19.847+01:00420<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Working-life is interesting. In the mornings I go downhill and in the evenings uphill. We start and end at the same time everyday. Maybe such strict routine will be good for a change.<br />If I manage to hit people on a nearly-empty snowhill, how am I supposed to cycle through Amsterdam?</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-40094384358593423572014-02-04T21:04:00.000+01:002014-02-04T21:04:39.806+01:00419<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Today I said my living-in-Eindhoven-life goodbye and hopefully for good. I couldn't be happier.<br />Of course there are things I will miss because I got used to them, like the cats that said hi to me when I came home, or how I got to know when my supermarket had cheesetastings* or how the lady from the photostore finally memorized my name and order (best accomplishment to be honest). I could probably go on for a while here. These small things you get used to and feel happy for knowing. <br />But these things were mostly important to me because there is nothing else to Eindhoven. And I also know that you will find your routines in any place as long as you spend enough time there. I already know where to get cheesetastings in Amsterdam, and I'll make sure to make enough pictures for the guys at the photostore to know my name soon, and the cats won't be a problem either, so I'm guessing I'm going to feel familiar in no time.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">* Cheesetastings. This is a very Dutch thing probably, because Dutchies like cheese and free things. The thing is mostly that I never buy cheese because it is always too much for me and too expensive, but I love myself a taste of cheese every now and then and the free samples always give you just enough to satisfy the need.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-37463576320820736022014-01-30T16:49:00.000+01:002014-01-30T16:49:36.399+01:00418<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Long time no see here. Somehow life was incredibly busy the last weeks. On the moments I didn't have to work for school, I tried to stay away from any "computer work" as much as possible. Cooking, baking, looking for houses and an awful lot of knitting.<br />
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Many things are changing. I'm starting my internship soon and with that comes a move to Amsterdam and I'll never have to live in Eindhoven again. Can't wait. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-79407946515197391682013-12-12T09:16:00.002+01:002013-12-12T09:16:51.152+01:00417<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Knitting, working and travelling. These days when the mornings are cold, misty and calm, I long to travel to empty lands again. Just two more weeks.<br />Not so long ago, a "schooltrip" to empty parts of the Netherlands, organizing, cleaning and sleeping in prisonbeds. The building used to be an office, so the heater would turn off at 6, it made it feel a bit more like camping. Indoor wintercamping. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-68396259039765900162013-11-22T14:04:00.002+01:002013-11-22T14:04:47.717+01:00416<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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11 years ago on this day, I become 11.<br />
This 22nd of November, I became 22.<br />
It is a nice number so it will be a good year.<br />
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(and now that we are looking back, we all know what happened 50 years ago of course. Or actually we dont. there was a competition who got the best story of what he or she was doing 50 years ago on this day. i wonder if we are also going to do that for 9/11 so many years from now.. It's a bit strange, don't you think? Anyway..)</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-16305604356455700252013-11-02T10:52:00.000+01:002013-11-02T10:52:11.097+01:00415<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The remains of a breakfast, the murder of a fly and an uniform of sorts.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-77058021360303003802013-10-25T13:55:00.000+02:002013-10-25T13:55:06.424+02:00414<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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One can't really go wrong with dead-animal-museums, not with this girl at least. But I have to say that the one in Berlin has done the most supurb job. <br />In most museums it's just dead animals behind glass, with little plates that tell you their funny latin names. Berlin took it a bit further and shows you the cruelty of those cute flapping fellas. A mumbird feeds her babybirds another babybird she just killed, owls who just killed a magpie look at you like you're next, a sad little sparrow lays bleeding in the gutter of a Berlin sidewalk next to some gum and cigarette butts, a shark hangs wrinkled-up in a glassjar because no-one bothered to make him look nice.. <i>And</i> as a highlight of it all, they had a gorialla with my name. Can you get me any more excited? I don't think so.<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-42554581271266202922013-10-13T17:51:00.003+02:002013-10-13T17:51:10.223+02:00413<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Never under-estimate the tiniest of things.<br />I'd like to have a coat with a hundred pockets, all filled with little treasures. I'd roam the streets all day and sell my treasures to hurried strangers. This song is fitting: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fVBMHnF-gPk" target="_blank">click</a>.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-76327435402558070952013-10-06T17:28:00.000+02:002013-10-06T17:28:24.305+02:00412<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I'm in need of adventures. Holidays are still a few weeks away, so I try to still my wander-hunger by watching many travel/science-documentaries, digging up pictures of almost-forgotten trips, searching for tickets I can't afford, and baking bread.<br />Baking bread is like an adventure on its own. Mixing and kneading until your hands hurt, waiting and watching as the dough rises (a magical thing if you ask me), shaping the bread and cutting the top slightly, watching it slowly split open as if it were alive, whispering <i>sorry</i> under your breath, putting it in the oven, and waiting again. The smell of baked bread starts to take over the smell of yeast. Knocking to see if nobody is home and then, unable to wait for it to cool down, taking a bite of a fresh warm slice of homemade bread. Lekker!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-67499320765823040932013-09-25T21:01:00.000+02:002013-09-25T21:01:11.205+02:00411<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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There are many names for colours. One name for a shade of yellow is <i>Laser Lemon. </i>It is a real great name for a yellow, but my favourite is always <i>mustard</i>, because most yellow things eventually turn into mustard things because of the dirt. And I really like mustard as a food.<br /><br />At which age do we stop asking eachother about our favourite colour? The question used to rise so often, that it was always on my mind ('maybe purple is my favourite colour now.. or maybe I just stick with bloodred..').<br /><br />What is your favourite colour?</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-55521748391011112572013-09-17T20:12:00.003+02:002013-09-17T20:12:54.135+02:00410<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I'm not certain of many things, but one thing I know: if I ever (in the faraway future, please) get kids or a family, I will sew us all <a href="http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/2012/10/02/seamless/" target="_blank">matching</a> awkward <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2317125/Its-clear-sign-Meet-couple-dressing-matching-outfits-past-33-YEARS.html" target="_blank">outfits</a> at least once and probably make it into a <a href="http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/2009/08/17/tie-die-for/" target="_blank">holidaycard</a>, or let them wear something like <a href="http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/2009/06/04/what-about-bob/" target="_blank">this</a> on my birthdays.<br /><br />Until I have the motherly power to do this, I like to secretly, subtly match the people in my life. Or I match my clothes to my <a href="http://bobby-blue.blogspot.nl/2012/07/317.html" target="_blank">work</a> or to my surroundings. It's the little things in life! ha.<br /><br />more matchingness <a href="http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/tag/matchy-matchy/" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-90868066239327214212013-09-13T17:11:00.002+02:002013-09-13T17:11:47.323+02:00409<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A picture of working outside and a picture of working inside. By now the flowers have completely lost all life and colour and so has the field outside. The sky is grey. It's getting colder and I'm getting grumpy. Hiding with blankets, tea, books and temporary records. China can regulate the weather. What if we just make 12 zones in this world and there is a different climate in every zone every month. Then we let the people who want to have all the climates, live on the upper part of the world in whatever zone they want and then we can make the underside of the world into a nomadic place where everyone will move to another zone every month, so that they can keep in their favourite climate. Kind of like how some people celebrate newyears a lot of times because they fly from time-zone to time-zone.<br />I would avoid the grey climate and maybe visit it once every other year for a small week of depression after too much nice weather.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-35792714995629124062013-09-07T16:26:00.000+02:002013-09-07T16:26:14.196+02:00408<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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One year ago, on this 7th of september, I took off for 6-month adventure in Hamburg. I can still feel the weight of the backback on my shoulders and the excited tingles in my stomach, and in fact pretty much every detail of that day, like a movie in my mind. But there seems to be a lifetime of experiences in this last year, which makes it seem like it lasted a decade.<br />I don't regret my decision to finish my school here, and I'm excited to start classes again next week. I had to get out of it all to appreciate it again and see things in a different light. But that doesn't take away that I miss the amazing beauty and 'ease' of the city, the life, the people and the school there. It's good to know places like that exist.<br />In a few months I can move again, so I'm excited for whatever the next 12 months will bring. Untill then I'll be so busy learning a lot and spending time with loved ones, that I probably won't even be able to notice the <i>immer</i> grey skies above this silly little town. Ignorance is bliss, sometimes. Ha! </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-57275905905952536212013-08-30T20:41:00.000+02:002013-08-30T20:44:55.129+02:00407<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Finding a dead bird always makes my day. They're always paired with loving feelings.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-82145730474376063982013-08-20T17:38:00.000+02:002013-08-20T17:39:15.063+02:00406<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJxnjMACZsLr4oXIhgxmhwgLJlFPouY0BrTEYuM9tbY0_5kY4mtiUHkDbrPYR3qlkJ8CiHqiMn4RNQ3pcwyn1TEVHdgVTq5GilCvjEDI3CHXyl7hsPJ5AbzBlgENPrHayZkuZad00UB8Rv/s1600/130801duits037.jpg" /><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQzM-AiNImYvCOwJTURCRyUt5lofQj_agVgIgWYO32eNkNMa7HDFhfne2Pq7D4Zfd6ySKCshw68m-agLjTWjVuCzPYn4FYPWQyUy3lX7WbbKtjgA8dt81tl6pSWPI7vqFOZ3ZRgTq5sm7T/s1600/130801duits154.jpg" /><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjms7mEAdOSUwjnYrrAjuiBUflOovunsxWFnNUhKwhufS6exZBqiUTSTo6KCpeLahbn5y5OgPtDYPY76fI2FhQ_U8GQkZLK9c8GshleGuB20m4jXvZg3VpYOVW-BaR4Xk6tto5CHQTiD-TD/s1600/130801duits036.jpg" /></div>
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Homes made of wood. With windows and creeks for the sunbeams to sneak in. With flowing curtains for the wind to play with. And with plenty of space to cuddle up with newspapers, sweet cake, letters to friends, cups of coffee, good books, and lovers. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-77607454049213899772013-08-12T16:38:00.003+02:002013-08-12T16:38:37.189+02:00405<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>THIS MESSAGE IS ESPECIALLY FOR PEOPLE IN THE NEWYORKCITY AREA.</b><br />
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Hi! Do you see these two lovely lads? They are called Daniel and Marius and they are both German, but that doesnt keep them from wearing cool shoelaces and socks with hearts on them. <br />They are about to visit New York City to photograph the smallest skyscrapers. Great plan. The only problem is that they still need <b>a place to sleep from the 19th of august till the 23rd</b> (and possibly also middle of september).<br />Are you a nice person willing to host two nice boys for a night or two? Or do you know anyone who would? Please let me know.<br />I also added the picture of the flowers to show that I'm sure they'd be willing to thank you for your kindness with anything a poor student who spent all their money on a ticket to new york, has to offer.<br /><br />(I'm just worried they're going to end up under a bridge and then get stabbed by big american dudes with cheeseburgers with knives in them..)</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-75637226270415096172013-08-08T11:35:00.000+02:002013-08-08T11:35:46.664+02:00404<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The thing about Germans is that they really like wurst and beer. It seems like an awful stereotype, but I have to tell you that it is 100% true. And they consume so much of it and in so many varieties, that I think they are sometimes a bit ashamed of it themselves as well and then try to hide it, so they call things "liver cheese", which is just wurst. Or they call something "wurstsalat" which is not a salad at all, just wurst. And then they throw parties with cute names like "kinderfest", which is just about drinking beer.. There are uncountable different beers and wurstthings in Germany. And every single person seems to like it. Even the vegetarians I met, wouldn't stop talking about the amazing vegetarian sausages. It's just in the German blood I think.<br /><br />So this is is why we started our day in Munich with a typical "Weißwurst Frühstuck". Basically it is two white sausages that you unpeel from their white skin (which ends up as a little pile of used condoms on the side of your plate. Not very appealing when you're already busy trying to get over the fact that you're eating a white sausage in the morning), a lot of sweet mustard (this is very good!), a fresh brezel, and.. a white beer! It's the most ridiculous thing on earth, but it was a great start of our Munich day, and I was proud all day that I managed to eat at least one of the sausages! <br />We ended the day with beer as well in a real beergarten. In between there were museum visitis, drinking coffee, seeing naked men in the park, looking at books and eating sugarnuts on the market, and a little moment of cooling down and relaxing by the riverside (in the middle of the city!). And there were many people in lederhosen. Crazy Germans.<br /><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-2975105098556407712013-08-05T22:09:00.000+02:002013-08-05T22:09:06.165+02:00403<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It is weird to count sheep when you want to fall asleep, because sheep are nervous as hell and keep running away from you and turning their butts to you. Cows on the other hand, are completely relaxed and make the counting easy by having numbers tattooed on their butts. "Counting Cows" sounds a lot better as well, dont you think?</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-4577580705481231742013-08-03T21:09:00.000+02:002013-08-03T21:09:25.367+02:00402<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I'm back from a most most most amazing german (and a tiny bit italian) adventure.<br />These are some of the landscapes that have formed my temporary homeland.<br /><br />I know photographing landscapes is always a tricky thing, because the pictures never come close to the real experience, and especially with those beautiful green fields and perfect blue skies, it often felt almost too cliché to capture. I usually tend to be a bit sceptical towards postcards and think they are just made up, but how have I been proven wrong! The views I've seen have been even more beautiful than postcards.<br /><br />So, with the pictures not being that interesting, see this as a sneakpeak into the posts to come. A scenery-sketch like they do in the beginning of movies and books. Fly over the landscape in your mind and then slowly zoom in on one of the houses because there is a naked person sitting on a wooden chair in the kitchen, whipping up some cream.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-57807062938257898582013-07-15T17:56:00.002+02:002013-07-15T18:14:00.852+02:00401<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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What I enjoyed the most on summerholidays with my parents as a kid, was simply driving from one place to another. Long carrides of sleeping, reading, listening to music or simply staring out the window at the passing landscape.<br />
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This summer (and most resent summers), I've been having those same kind of rides, but instead of my family's car, I've let myself get transported and lulled into sleep by trains and busses and trams. Traveling back and forth between homes. Not completely by choice though.. I tend to forget stuff all the time and then I have to get back again. But I try to not be too annoyed by myself and just enjoy that I've finished two and a half books in two days.<br />
Plus, it is a good practice in a way. In a bit more than a week, I'll make a 9(!)-hour traindrive to the south of Germany for a holiday filled with cheese, wurst, beer, mountains, lakes, sheep, germans, biking - and hiking-adventures and peace love and happiness. (ha!) I'm super excited.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">ps. I also got a <a href="http://bobbyblau.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">tumblr</a>. I dont know why. Because I'm a modern girl!</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-48490764933584812822013-07-01T22:00:00.001+02:002013-07-01T22:12:18.844+02:00400<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The best thing about Amsterdam is that every cafe has its own housecat. You know how some people always play with their phones while they wait for somebody to finish their peeing, or wait for them to show up or to stop calling with their mum or something.. Well I dont have a smartphone, but I do have a big love for cats, and so in those situations in Amsterdam cafes, I can never really be bored.<br />
The best thing about my room is that I can see a very big part of the sky and that this part of the sky fills itself with balloons on summer nights. They get me very excited.<br />
The best thing about this weather is that you can wear woolen socks and sweaters, but also floaty pants and cheap shoes and no need for a coat.<br />
The best thing about today is that in 2 days I'll have holidays and they will be filled with all the best things in life, I think.<br />
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(the worst thing about this scanner is that it gives this awful stripe.. and the worst thing about me is that I'm too lazy and impatient to scan them all in again on another scanner..)</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-41423537340354997782013-06-26T21:19:00.001+02:002013-06-26T21:21:53.802+02:00399<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Fridaynight is pizzanight in Eindhoven. There is a magical place, also known as the backyard of the pizzaguy. Here you can enjoy a night with wonderful, crazy people and orange beers. And on top of that, you can also make your very own pizza, which is always the best pizza you ever tasted.<br />There are ladies with dresses made from beercans, little girls who make you stoned whales from paper, cats who cant be fed and chickens who eat the leftover pizza. There is a collection of garden gnomes on the roof and a red button which you can press if you dont like the current song (but dont press it when rammstein is playing, because then you'll be in trouble).</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-28842122405974190492013-06-22T10:26:00.000+02:002013-06-22T10:26:08.021+02:00398<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Making patterens and missing my Hamburg. The sounds and smells of the harbour, the cold salty wind prickling your face, the beers and bretzels and the foreign chatter. I try not to think of it too much, because you should try to be happy where you are, but sometimes the missing is just there all of a sudden.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318153446425831455.post-56140310180286530862013-06-17T00:17:00.001+02:002013-06-17T00:17:21.334+02:00397<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Working, escaping, working, escaping. I spend a lot of time staring at my screen, staring out of trainwindows and staring up at windows of houses. The staring up should be kept to a minimum though, because I keep crashing into people / cars / lampposts.<br />Do you know how sometimes you spend so much time thinking in a certain way, that your brain adapts to this and uses it for other things as well? When I was doing my math-exams a couple of years ago, Everything I saw and heard was instantly made into some kind of graph or formula by my head. Right now I work on patterns inspired by windows and houses, so my mind is now kindly highlighting interesting parts, counting elements and drawing lines over everything I see..</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2