Birthday Bothers

It's been over a month now; and still I find it the strangest thing that I am 20. It feels so unreal to NOT be a teenager any more. Of course, my birthday itself was extremely memorable. Tahlia came down from Munich to spend the week with me; and Margot and Maya were in Hamm, which meant that I hadn't any work. I DID have German classes, which wasn't as nice as it could have been.
Originally I was going to have a party; but through the work of the hideously, lying boyfriend of my host mum, (the only thing about this job that I can't STAND.....) that got cancelled. So, I was just going to rely on the usual Youth Group on Friday- at which Karen had promised to make me a cake. =-D
But as though it were an apology about Dieter from God, everything began to all into place on Wednesday. =-)
Tahlia and I went out to lunch with Celine after class. She SEEMED awesome, but at that point I really didn't know her that well. However, the 3 of us just hit it off. She mentioned that she was going clubbing is Kaiserlauten the next day; and that we should come and make it a my birthday crossover. Done and done. =-)
Later, on the bus, I ran into Vanessa. Boy had I missed her!!!!! I hadn't seen her in 6 months, and now here she was! 2 days before my birthday!!!!! Not only did I manage to convince her to come to Youth Group on Friday, but it also turned out that she is moving to France in a couple of weeks, so it was literally the last chance that I had of seeing her for a VERY long time.
Thursday night was AWESOME. I wore the dress that Celine had got me as a present during our shopping trip the day before. We danced all night, met some amazing people, and didn't get back home until 7am- taking the first morning train.
Friday was equally as awesome. There were a LOT Of people, there was a LOT of cake, and I was most proud of myself for managing, (through perseverance,) to blow out the non-blow-out-able candles.
The morning was great, too. Maya and Margot arrived back and I got about 3 kilos of sweets as a birthday present. Of course, that WAS also the day when our foreign exchange student, Charles, (whom I know fondly as Yankee Chuck,) randomly decided to ditch and move out. Weeeeeirdo!
All in all a great birthday. So why the difficulty in recalling the fact that I am a year older? Every year previously I have been gleefully shouting it from the rooftops. There has been NO doubt in MY mind.

After careful consideration, I think that I have figured it out.
Generally, I have been very careful to top the celebrations of the year before, in order to burn this year's birthday over the lasts in my brain.

Well, the celebrations for my 19th birthday were almost a week long. During that time I managed to:

• Get robbed in Lithuania
• Accidently go to Latvia
• Spend 10 hours in a Russian police station
• Go Salsa-dancing in Saint Petersburg
• Take a 3am cruise down a river, including fireworks
• Eat on my birthday: Potatoes at midnight, pineapple slightly after; and cake at: 5am, 4pm, and 10pm
• Dress up extremely posh
• Go to a classical concert
• Get gifted a rose that was almost taller than me
• Drink melted chocolate at an oxygen bar
• Get lost twice
• Almost sell my hat to (hot) drunk Swedish guys at the Midsummer festival in Finland
• Get chased through the forest by a Werewitch on the longest day of the year
• Run out of money in Frankfurt
• Act as a tour guide
• Get a ride home at 2am in a German Police car.

 I think that we'll all agree that this birthday will never be beaten.
EVER.
I'm going to be 19 forever.....

'Airdressing Adventures

I enjoy adventures.

Adventures enjoy me.

You could even venture to say that I am pretty adventurous.

Since the last adventure that I took, (getting to Rottweil and back for 21 Euros,) took place several months ago, I felt that the time was ripe for a new adventure.

Coincidently, the time was also ripe for a haircut, seeing as though, due to my aversion to paying the horrendous European hairdresser prices, it had been over a year since I had had one.

BEFORE:

So I travelled to Mannheim, (I can't believe that I have lived 20 minutes away from this awesome city for OVER A YEAR and never seen anything but the train station before!!!!! Incredible!) and met my friend Eva. Together we found THE most expensive hair-dressers in town, and in we went.

The shampoo felt like a massage by a expert Asian in a dress. (Worryingly I am actually qualified to judge this.)

When it got to the actual cutting, I looked the woman straight in the eye, and said in the best German that I could muster: Ich will eine surpris haben, also- solange ich was anderes ist becommen, bitte machen was Sie wollen!

That's right, you heard me.

So, according to my instructions, the woman flipped through her iPad and found a style that she liked. I closed my eyes so that I wouldn't see what was going on. She began cutting.

During my subsequent conversation with Eva, I assured her that, Yes, I was aware of what I had said- and I did know what I was doing.

The good thing about hair is; that no matter how bad it gets- you can always just cut it off and grow it back again.

Luckily, this was not necessary- as instead I opened my eyes, (fourty minutes later,) to find this.

AFTER:

Now that's what's up. =-)

Nice Things about New Books

We all know the excitement of opening an overseas package; and seeing a shiny new book in it. If it's a new book, then the cover will be glossy, most likely with some kind of sparkly writing. The pages will be crisp and clean, and will make a wonderful rustling noise as they turn. If it is an old book, then the cover will be soft, and of either fabric or paper. The pages will be slightly yellowed, and it will smell AMAZING. Regardless, it is a gift. And one that I have received over 500 times so far. =-D

HOWEVER,
there have been few times in my life when I was more excited to receive a book than today. You see, I'd read this story before- in its undiluted form. When it was coming chapter by chapter, week by week. Being made up on the spot. A work in progress. I was there. I witnessed it. (Although I don't know if the author remembers me properly. I only started reading it about 2/3 of the way through.)

In fact, I am still in contact with the author. We are facebook friends. (Which shows just how serious this business is meant by I, who means it businessarily and in a most serious fashion!) When I finish reading it, (likely some time tomorrow morning,) I am going to wrap it up, write a letter expounding its virtues and send it to her. She has promised to lick it for me.

Oh yeah. I am THAT cool.

So, if any other of you want this experience, then I suggest that you head on down to the link below and do likewise. Now please may I be excused from the blogosphere. I have a new book to read and we ALL know that that s#!t take priority!!!!!

http://omnificpublishing.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=21&products_id=50

Ponderings on Phobias

Some fears are entirely illogical. Like the time that I was fifteen and watched The Blair Witch project for the first time. We were having a most exciting sleep-over, and had snuggled into our sleeping-bags in chairs, all of the lights in the completely empty house killed, and the volume on the television turned up high.

We thought that it would be the coolest thing in the world to watch scary films. Fun, even! Well, I spent the entire time clinging to the hand of the boy next to me. (In my defence, it was his fault for sitting on my right. Duh.) The film ended, leaving all of us terrified. We whispered our wishes that someone would stand up to turn the lights on..... but no-one was brave enough to face all of the rustling in order to do so. A catch 22 in it's finest hour. (I later solved this problem by choosing a house with the lights on a remote the very next time that I moved.)

Unfortunately, the noise blaring from the box had drowned out the noise of the car arriving back. When the door opened suddenly, we all screamed. A very startled adult looked down on the guilty and fantastically innocent faces of a half a dozen teenagers, and decided not to ask. A wise choice.

Even since that day I have been petrified at the thought of something eating me in a dark forest. You'd think that I'd simply control my fear by not putting myself in such situations, but that would just be too easily. A perfectly fine midnight picnic in a forest in Finland on Midsummer's Eve turned into a mad dash for civilisation when I managed to freak out myself, and, thanks to my over-active imagination and describing capabilities, my usually unflappable friend. For some strange reason, though- no-one tends to believe that story.....



Some fears appear to make little sense until you think about them, when you realise that the reasons are entirely strange. For example, I loathe cockroaches.

Now, I think that we'll all agree that the company of cockroaches is not enjoyed by many people. However, one day I had the, interesting, experience of meeting a roach enthusiast. When asked exactly what it was about them that I detested, I realised the the answer was the clicking noise that they make when they scuttle. *shudder*




Some fears, though- are perfectly rational. Almost everyone in the world has at least 1 rational fear. The fear of being eaten by a shark, or wolves. The fear of falling, or crashing, or drowning.

For most of you, it isn't too big of a deal. I mean, yeah- a shark could eat you. You can still live a normal, healthy life without ever visiting aquariums or deep-water fishing charters. I am forced to live with my fear ever day. Forced to look it in the eye and watch as it passes, to make sure that it doesn't turn around to get me. I know that my fear watches me, and I know that I am not yet ready for it. Worst of all, I have to watch my fear pass me by with a cynical smile.

That's because for me, the rational and all-encompassing fear is

Joggers.

Decisions about Dogs

I remember that when I was little, I always wanted a dog. I used to take every opportunity to play with them and cuddle them..... and they were always just right. I was DESPERATE for a puppy of my own, and was 100% sure that I would have one when I grew up. My mum always warned me that owning a dog is one of the most important decisions that a person ever makes, and that I would have to decide for myself when the time was right.

Well, that time is now. For those of you who don't know, I am currently living in Germany with a dog, so I get to see first-hand what the experience would be like. And it is so very, VERY different from my imaginings..

This dog is a large Labrador with ADHD and an abandonment complex. He eats horrible things, barks 24/7, pulls like a steam train and enjoys licking my socks. Also, the worse the weather- the more excited he gets. It's times like this that we used to put him on the tread-mill. BUT, ever since he fell off of it and couldn't get back on- our dog will whine every time we try it. So that leaves walking.

Some time last year, I found myself walking my overly hyper-active dog through a thunderstorm in the middle of Germany. He had to stay on the leash, because the farmers were spreading fertiliser and he considers that a tasty treat. So I was yelling at him in German as my arm was pulled half out of the socket and my ear-buds began electrocuting my ears, when I came to a conclusion..... Big dogs are not for me.

Not long afterwards, I met the dog of my friends. They are American and have been living in Europe for about as long as I have. I was over at their house for dinner and had been there for about 20 minutes before I realised that they even HAD a dog. The entire length of it's body was the same as that of my foot. I spent the entire meal petrified that I was going to stand on and subsequently kill this families pet.

After dinner we were watching television, and the dog was lying in the middle of the living room floor. I felt an overwhelming sense of relief..... I was far less likely to commit canine manslaughter whilst he remained within view. Unfortunately, this proved not to be the case. The entire time that I sat there, that dog stared at me. His eyes opened wider and wider until they looked as though they were going to pop out of his head. I swear that the entire time that I sat there, I did not once see it blink. By the end of the show I was experiencing extreme paranoia and was pretty confident that instead of my accidently killing it, it was planning a slow and deliberate torture of me.

I later found out that I'd had a bit of food on my trouser leg..... but that did NOT change my decision. Small dogs are not for me, either.

It was a somewhat sad feeling, coming to this important life-decision. What had happened to my somewhat fuzzy memories of a dog that was man's best friend? Instead I was presented with the option of a sewage-consuming ADHD dwarved bear, or a potentialy homiscidal alien capable of hiding in shoe-boxes. Where was the justice?!

My final opinion on dogs is this: I like them in theory, with the protection and the love and the fun and the extreme cuteness value. But in practise- they make the most impractical of pets. They need to be exercised and fed and loved and stuff..... it does not fit in with my essentially lazy nature. I think that I'm just going to buy a monkey, instead. I hear that they make the most excellent hats.....