420

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.
If I manage to hit people on a nearly-empty snowhill, how am I supposed to cycle through Amsterdam?

416

11 years ago on this day, I become 11.
This 22nd of November, I became 22.
It is a nice number so it will be a good year.

(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..)

414

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.
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.. And 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.

413

Never under-estimate the tiniest of things.
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: click.

411

There are many names for colours. One name for a shade of yellow is Laser Lemon. It is a real great name for a yellow, but my favourite is always mustard, because most yellow things eventually turn into mustard things because of the dirt. And I really like mustard as a food.

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..').

What is your favourite colour?

410

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 matching awkward outfits at least once and probably make it into a holidaycard, or let them wear something like this on my birthdays.

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 work or to my surroundings. It's the little things in life! ha.

more matchingness here.

407

Finding a dead bird always makes my day. They're always paired with loving feelings.

406

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. 

405

THIS MESSAGE IS ESPECIALLY FOR PEOPLE IN THE NEWYORKCITY AREA.

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.
They are about to visit New York City to photograph the smallest skyscrapers. Great plan. The only problem is that they still need a place to sleep from the 19th of august till the 23rd (and possibly also middle of september).
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.
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.

(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..)

404

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.

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!
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.

403

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?

402

I'm back from a most most most amazing german (and a tiny bit italian) adventure.
These are some of the landscapes that have formed my temporary homeland.

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.

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.

401

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.

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.
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.


ps. I also got a tumblr. I dont know why. Because I'm a modern girl!

398

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.