Sonntag, 25. November 2007
Sometimes I think people don't understand how lonely it is to be a kid, like you don't matter.
Clementine: Joely?
Joel: Yeah Tangerine?
Clementine: Am I ugly?
Joel: Uh-uh.
Clementine: When I was a kid, I thought I was. I can't believe I'm crying already. Sometimes I think people don't understand how lonely it is to be a kid, like you don't matter. So, I'm eight, and I have these toys, these dolls. My favorite is this ugly girl doll who I call Clementine, and I keep yelling at her, "You can't be ugly! Be pretty!" It's weird, like if I can transform her, I would magically change, too.
Joel: [kisses Clementine] You're pretty.
Clementine: Joely, don't ever leave me.
Joel: You're pretty... you're pretty... pretty...
That Thing You Do (to me)
1.5 Seconds
So on Saturday (November 24th) I went to the hospital with my sister again. At about 12 o’clock I left to walk to the Fulham Broadway tube station for a District Line train to Embankment. I hadn’t planned on stalking Lee or anything, honestly, in fact I didn’t want to see/meet him, not then (or ever). This has nothing to do with me thinking he wouldn’t live up to my expectations or anything, no, not at all. It’s just me being…me, I guess. I know I would freak. But I still wanted to trot around Covent Garden, take in the crazy buzz on a Saturday and walk by the work place of the blessed one. While walking (in silly shoes) I got a call from my friend A. who’s been living in London since June. I had left a message for her a bit earlier to see if she was working or not and if she would be up for a spontaneous meeting. She was and suggested meeting at London Bridge a bit later. After hanging up I kept walking around, looking at things and people and then started to feel increasingly stupid. “What are you doing? Do you want to see him or what? Stop it, you silly girl, you can’t even walk past the stage door without wetting your pants, so go away. Your feet hurt, you’re kinda hungry and when did you last have a glass of water?” I gave in to my saner self and put an end to this idiotic aimless strolling around.
I walked into EAT, which is at one end of Maiden Lane (the one nearer to the stage door). Took a bottle of water and kept walking along the aisle to pick out a small meal or sandwich. Took me ages and I still hadn’t picked anything when I for some reason looked to my left, out of the window. Had I not spent minutes (ok, maybe 1 or 2) looking for food or had I turned my head a tiny little bit earlier…I could have seen him longer than for the one second that followed.
Lee was outside and between him and myself was a wall of glass. While I had been in EAT, he had been walking down the same street I had walked down (and up) minutes ago. But when I saw him he was just about to turn into Maiden Lane. Something strange happened to me that moment. He was….like a picture, a painting coming to life for a single second. It really was him. I don’t remember exactly what he was wearing, maybe his brown leather jacket? I don’t know. I saw his little man bag, in fact, I now think that I saw the bag before my brain realized it was him.
The strangest and scariest thing was the emotion that rushed through my body in that moment. You know that feeling when you see the person you reallyreally like/love but they don’t know anything about it so every time you see them it’s like a miracle?
I felt a rush of excitement, shock, joy and fear, all at the same time, going straight to my stomach, climbing up and curling around my heart before creeping into my throat where it almost started sending tears of desperation to my eyes. In the next few seconds I made, like, 27 different decisions and needless to say there were all the wrong ones. I practically threw the bottle of water into the sandwiches on display (I guess I should be grateful I didn’t actually steal it) and walked out of EAT; forcing myself not to run. “What are you going to do? Running after him like an idiot, stalker girl? Stand here with your mouth hanging open like that??” I wasn’t able to think properly and I….did not follow him.
Instead I passed Maiden Lane again while looking after him and saw how Lee greeted people (in the 0.5 seconds it seemed like he did that in a pretty friendly way, seemed like he knew them but I guess with Lee you don’t know as he seems to be like that to everyone). There were other people too, obviously waiting for him. Then it was over. I walked up the street he had (about ten seconds ago) walked down, towards me (HAHA!!) and tried to get my head around what I’ve just seen and around my own stupidity. I knew I wouldn’t go to the stage door, I didn’t want to. Instead I called my younger sister, who after a minute asked me if I was drunk because I kept talking like a mad woman. I felt safer doing something unsuspicious like talking into my phone (again HAHA!!) so I turned around again, towards EAT. Then I looked into Maiden Lane and registered with relief that danger had passed and everyone (including Lee, thankfully) was gone. So I happily walked along there, talking to my sis until it was time to make my way to London Bridge.
So that was my 1.5 seconds story of seeing Lee Mead. My very first and definitely, definitely last sort of “encounter” (a third HAHA!!) with him ever. I had a chance and I didn’t want to take it. I could never go to the stage door or do the aftershow scrum. I just can’t. I’m the most emotional person you’ll ever meet. But I was still shocked by the strong emotional reaction I had to seeing Lee just meters away from me for such a short moment. I guess I don’t need to say that he was completely, utterly and just unbelievably beautiful.
There you go, dear friends. I could have seen him for more than 1.5 seconds, I could have walked behind him and stop him…but I didn’t. My gut reaction amidst all that emotional chaos was not to run after him but to get away ASAP.
Offers for therapy hours or hugs are more than welcome right now, thank you.
So on Saturday (November 24th) I went to the hospital with my sister again. At about 12 o’clock I left to walk to the Fulham Broadway tube station for a District Line train to Embankment. I hadn’t planned on stalking Lee or anything, honestly, in fact I didn’t want to see/meet him, not then (or ever). This has nothing to do with me thinking he wouldn’t live up to my expectations or anything, no, not at all. It’s just me being…me, I guess. I know I would freak. But I still wanted to trot around Covent Garden, take in the crazy buzz on a Saturday and walk by the work place of the blessed one. While walking (in silly shoes) I got a call from my friend A. who’s been living in London since June. I had left a message for her a bit earlier to see if she was working or not and if she would be up for a spontaneous meeting. She was and suggested meeting at London Bridge a bit later. After hanging up I kept walking around, looking at things and people and then started to feel increasingly stupid. “What are you doing? Do you want to see him or what? Stop it, you silly girl, you can’t even walk past the stage door without wetting your pants, so go away. Your feet hurt, you’re kinda hungry and when did you last have a glass of water?” I gave in to my saner self and put an end to this idiotic aimless strolling around.
I walked into EAT, which is at one end of Maiden Lane (the one nearer to the stage door). Took a bottle of water and kept walking along the aisle to pick out a small meal or sandwich. Took me ages and I still hadn’t picked anything when I for some reason looked to my left, out of the window. Had I not spent minutes (ok, maybe 1 or 2) looking for food or had I turned my head a tiny little bit earlier…I could have seen him longer than for the one second that followed.
Lee was outside and between him and myself was a wall of glass. While I had been in EAT, he had been walking down the same street I had walked down (and up) minutes ago. But when I saw him he was just about to turn into Maiden Lane. Something strange happened to me that moment. He was….like a picture, a painting coming to life for a single second. It really was him. I don’t remember exactly what he was wearing, maybe his brown leather jacket? I don’t know. I saw his little man bag, in fact, I now think that I saw the bag before my brain realized it was him.
The strangest and scariest thing was the emotion that rushed through my body in that moment. You know that feeling when you see the person you reallyreally like/love but they don’t know anything about it so every time you see them it’s like a miracle?
I felt a rush of excitement, shock, joy and fear, all at the same time, going straight to my stomach, climbing up and curling around my heart before creeping into my throat where it almost started sending tears of desperation to my eyes. In the next few seconds I made, like, 27 different decisions and needless to say there were all the wrong ones. I practically threw the bottle of water into the sandwiches on display (I guess I should be grateful I didn’t actually steal it) and walked out of EAT; forcing myself not to run. “What are you going to do? Running after him like an idiot, stalker girl? Stand here with your mouth hanging open like that??” I wasn’t able to think properly and I….did not follow him.
Instead I passed Maiden Lane again while looking after him and saw how Lee greeted people (in the 0.5 seconds it seemed like he did that in a pretty friendly way, seemed like he knew them but I guess with Lee you don’t know as he seems to be like that to everyone). There were other people too, obviously waiting for him. Then it was over. I walked up the street he had (about ten seconds ago) walked down, towards me (HAHA!!) and tried to get my head around what I’ve just seen and around my own stupidity. I knew I wouldn’t go to the stage door, I didn’t want to. Instead I called my younger sister, who after a minute asked me if I was drunk because I kept talking like a mad woman. I felt safer doing something unsuspicious like talking into my phone (again HAHA!!) so I turned around again, towards EAT. Then I looked into Maiden Lane and registered with relief that danger had passed and everyone (including Lee, thankfully) was gone. So I happily walked along there, talking to my sis until it was time to make my way to London Bridge.
So that was my 1.5 seconds story of seeing Lee Mead. My very first and definitely, definitely last sort of “encounter” (a third HAHA!!) with him ever. I had a chance and I didn’t want to take it. I could never go to the stage door or do the aftershow scrum. I just can’t. I’m the most emotional person you’ll ever meet. But I was still shocked by the strong emotional reaction I had to seeing Lee just meters away from me for such a short moment. I guess I don’t need to say that he was completely, utterly and just unbelievably beautiful.
There you go, dear friends. I could have seen him for more than 1.5 seconds, I could have walked behind him and stop him…but I didn’t. My gut reaction amidst all that emotional chaos was not to run after him but to get away ASAP.
Offers for therapy hours or hugs are more than welcome right now, thank you.
Donnerstag, 15. November 2007
Lee Mead - Gonna make you a star
If this is not enough to make your day then I don't know what it takes....
Samstag, 13. Oktober 2007
Sonntag, 30. September 2007
Mittwoch, 26. September 2007
No time for words
Yes, I left the previous entry without any comment at all. If you haven't heard or seen anything of Lee Mead then...well, you're missing out on something. Big time.
And as for the title of today's entry...yes, I out "time" in there again and I've just smacked myself for it. But there really is not much time for words these days.
And as for the title of today's entry...yes, I out "time" in there again and I've just smacked myself for it. But there really is not much time for words these days.
Montag, 24. September 2007
It's been some time
Views from the Seven Sisters and at some random theatre in London (ahem). Very embarrassingly I didn't know anything about the Seven Sisters but I really loved it up there despite having to look after 33 students who moaned and bitched the whole time. Ok, so yeah, it did feel like 49 sisters at times which was probably more due to the fact that we're just not used to walking for a longer period of time. But the lovely views made up for everything.
Eastbourne was great too, will definitely have to go back without the bunch of 13-year olds that kept following me (or was it the other around?). Speaking of the students, I really do like them. They don't know about a lot of things yet but it doesn't mean that they're not interesting little people, you know. They have something to say and when you listen closely you learn so much about them. Have to say though that I'm glad I'm not 13/14 years old anymore. All the drama and the tears and the frustration at not being allowed to do a lot of things - way too exhausting for my taste. Witnessed our own personal little soap opera between three students - apparently stupid love triangles do not only happen on Grey's Anatomy!
Spent a few hours in London as well and the 90 minutes I had to myself there made me realize once more how much I love that city. We were stuck in traffic, it was crazy busy, it rained - and all the time I wished nothing more than to live there again. How sad is it that London is the only place I feel at home these days.
Have also noticed that I can have quite a loud voice but really needed to shout sometimes especially on our walk from Hyde Park Corner to Covent Garden. Would have been slightly uncool to lose some students in London. Getting lost in London is fun (especially when asking locals how to get somewhere - I'm sure they're not doing it on purpose!) but those kids were overwhelmed by Hastings and Eastbourne so I'm pretty sure losing them in London would have been less than fun.
Samstag, 15. September 2007
Speaking of....
films, I really want to see a really good movie. I haven't been to the cinema for ages and every time I felt like going or actually had the time to go, every movie seemed to be about torturing people or running away from robots (or something).
A good movie....is usually one I don't want to see again for a long time because I like keeping the memory of that first-time sensation. Sometimes it's good not to see it another time. For example, I loved Brokeback Mountain as a theatrical experience and when I saw it again months later on a small screen it had lost some of its magic.
Then there are movies that will always feel good, no matter when and where you see them. To me Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is one of them. I can pop in the DVD at any time and watch random scenes and without a doubt it'll make me fall in love with that movie all over again. (random fact: I have the same orange sweater that Clementine wears in the movie. I love it.)
Other really good movies in S's world: Indochine - watch and worship La Deneuve. It's gorgeous, it's heartbreaking, it's French - what's not to love?
Wilbur wants to kill himself - nuff said. Go look it up, rent it, fall in love with the hopelessly underrated lead actor and realize how great life is.
Memento - Yes, total mainstream "oooh, edgy film" choice but it really is as good as you always hear so give it a try. It's really worth it and working out the different timelines is fun and not as confusing as you might think. Same goes for Eternal Sunshine actually. And Christopher Nolan is a genius.
The Shawshank Redemption - another popular choice but hey, I never said I'm above those! Morgan Freeman, what can I say? Red talks about missing his friend - Solli sobs. And the moment Andy makes it out of the prison is totally one of those punch-the-air-in-joy-moments of cinematic history. So many good moments, not a dull minute and characters you actually care about and see a change in over the course of the story. That's what makes a really good movie.
There are so many others that I love, will definitely write (sorry -blog *eyeroll*) about some others in the future. But not without leaving you with the ultimate "God, I love my sister"-movie: Whatever happened to Baby Jane is...well, there are really no words to describe a movie in which two sisters destroy each others lives and have serious mommy and daddy issues. I wish Crawford and Davis had been good friends in real life 'cause that would have made it even better. Still, the acting is unbelievable, the story gets you every time and it has so many quotable moments....just watch it.
A good movie....is usually one I don't want to see again for a long time because I like keeping the memory of that first-time sensation. Sometimes it's good not to see it another time. For example, I loved Brokeback Mountain as a theatrical experience and when I saw it again months later on a small screen it had lost some of its magic.
Then there are movies that will always feel good, no matter when and where you see them. To me Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is one of them. I can pop in the DVD at any time and watch random scenes and without a doubt it'll make me fall in love with that movie all over again. (random fact: I have the same orange sweater that Clementine wears in the movie. I love it.)
Other really good movies in S's world: Indochine - watch and worship La Deneuve. It's gorgeous, it's heartbreaking, it's French - what's not to love?
Wilbur wants to kill himself - nuff said. Go look it up, rent it, fall in love with the hopelessly underrated lead actor and realize how great life is.
Memento - Yes, total mainstream "oooh, edgy film" choice but it really is as good as you always hear so give it a try. It's really worth it and working out the different timelines is fun and not as confusing as you might think. Same goes for Eternal Sunshine actually. And Christopher Nolan is a genius.
The Shawshank Redemption - another popular choice but hey, I never said I'm above those! Morgan Freeman, what can I say? Red talks about missing his friend - Solli sobs. And the moment Andy makes it out of the prison is totally one of those punch-the-air-in-joy-moments of cinematic history. So many good moments, not a dull minute and characters you actually care about and see a change in over the course of the story. That's what makes a really good movie.
There are so many others that I love, will definitely write (sorry -blog *eyeroll*) about some others in the future. But not without leaving you with the ultimate "God, I love my sister"-movie: Whatever happened to Baby Jane is...well, there are really no words to describe a movie in which two sisters destroy each others lives and have serious mommy and daddy issues. I wish Crawford and Davis had been good friends in real life 'cause that would have made it even better. Still, the acting is unbelievable, the story gets you every time and it has so many quotable moments....just watch it.
Juno
Written by Diablo Cody, a fellow Greecie! Looks like the most awesome movie of the year and totally one I'll love to see!
Mittwoch, 12. September 2007
Off off off....
I am. To England on Monday and then to France on the following Sunday. Woohoo, am very cosmopolitan person.
Montag, 10. September 2007
Sonntag, 9. September 2007
Ok
I'm stupid. You may have already known that but I need to be reminded of that fun fact sometimes. I realized that I managed to use the word "time" in four blog titles. Boo-hey me. And in three consecutive ones!
And I've just used the word "consecutive". As in "four consecutive US Open titles" that Roger won't have. Not if Novak and I have our say.
I'm trying to distract myself. I can hear A shouting down the phone when he really should be resting and not arguing with his brother about things they'll never ever agree on. P has gone to the shop to get some milk because she is determined to make some pancakes for me. I didn't request them and I shouldn't have them but she came in, asked for some money, took my car keyes and said she's going to get milk. I swear these people get weirder by the minute. Being in hospitals for a longer than can be healthy amount of time can mess with your brain. I should know. Or...hell, I do know. Cue dramatic music of crappy memories....shut up, brain.
And I've just used the word "consecutive". As in "four consecutive US Open titles" that Roger won't have. Not if Novak and I have our say.
I'm trying to distract myself. I can hear A shouting down the phone when he really should be resting and not arguing with his brother about things they'll never ever agree on. P has gone to the shop to get some milk because she is determined to make some pancakes for me. I didn't request them and I shouldn't have them but she came in, asked for some money, took my car keyes and said she's going to get milk. I swear these people get weirder by the minute. Being in hospitals for a longer than can be healthy amount of time can mess with your brain. I should know. Or...hell, I do know. Cue dramatic music of crappy memories....shut up, brain.
What's not to love?
Seriously. I can't even begin to tell you how much I flove this video. And the song. It's the creepiest/most awesome video in the history of creepy/awesome videos. Watch and love, laugh, love.
Time will tell...
how often I'll manage to squeeze the word "time" into my blog titles. I just managed to use it in the two previous ones without realizing it. I think that time, baby, love, dream, heart and something else are the most used words in popular songs. And I fall for things like that every...time (oh dammit!). Maybe I should write my own song...
Watch this space
Watch this space
The time is right....
...for Novak Djokovic to rock not only my world but everybody's world from tonight on. GO GO GO
In times like these
What? I'm serious. She's great. When you're feeling down and depressed, just listen to some Celine Dion song und you will feel even more fucked.
"Cause I'm your laaaaadyyy, and you are my MAAAAN!" That's right.
Samstag, 8. September 2007
Some student writing...
...from my glorious days as a creative young student....though I wasn't creative at all as this is a real-life story (with a bit of creative freedom in some details, but the main events are all completely true). Not sure if this doesn't out me as a completely pathetic person but here it goes....
A week to remember
By XXXX
When I look back on all the holiday trips I've been on, I can honestly say that most of them were quite enjoyable. But there is one particular week that my memory will never allow me to forget, no matter how much time has gone by since then… October 1993 - I was thirteen years old and my mother had booked a trip to Austria for me to learn skiing. I was absolutely stunned. Was this the same woman who would never let me go to a sleepover, not even at my best friend's house, the woman who insisted on me being the first to leave every party I'd been to? Surely this was a joke. I mean it just had to be a joke. One of the cruel ones.
Why cruel? Well, first of all, I couldn't ski. Alright, I was supposed to learn it during that week. But I was not very athletic (to say the least) a girl with glasses as thick as the bottom of a bottle of Coke. I actually hated everything to do with sports. The second horrific aspect of a week in Austria was the group I had to travel with: upper-class kids from the best school in town, the richest dads around and with years of experience at skiing and snowboarding. Only because they went to St. Moritz or wherever, every winter. Of course. I knew everything about them and this legendary trip.
The only good thing was that my friend Anne would come as well. I had known her for almost eight years and although we never went to the same school (because she was one of THOSE kids), we remained friends. Unfortunately, her friend Carla was going too. Well, I thought, I could cope with that. All of my friends kept telling me how lucky I was to go to Sölden, the famous village in Austria where the group would stay. I didn't feel lucky at all. I still couldn't believe that my parents were doing this to me. I knew exactly where this would lead .
On the first day of the autumn holidays my family took me to the bus station, where a very strict looking woman seemed to be waiting just for me to arrive. Well, that was my impression. It was Mrs. Maus, who organised this tour every year. She looked at me like someone who sees a dead hedgehog on the road. And that was essentially what I wanted to be the moment I saw the other people who were supposed to come with us. One part of the group consisted of people around the age of 60, apparently already dressed in their skiing outfits! The other half was even worse: 25 teenagers ( mostly boys) around 17 years of age, all very cool-looking, noisy and, what I loathed most in this moment, happy. Anne and Carla seemed to know all of them. I said goodbye to my parents and siblings and got on one of the two busses waiting for us. It turned out that all the young people (including Carla) were on the other bus. Anne and I had to join the "old" group. We were the youngest anyway, but on this bus people treated us as if we were three years old. When someone found out that I had never been skiing before I earned another pitying look. What the hell was wrong with me??
During the ten-hour drive to Sölden we stopped at several rest areas. Carla took the chance to tell us how much fun it was to be on the other bus with all those cool older kids. I could see that Anne desperately wanted to be with them, too. But we had to stay with our new-found "friends". At around six o'clock we finally arrived in Sölden. We were disappointed to see that there was no snow at all. Our hotel was a small grey building. The town itself looked quite nice. Well, as nice as it could look in the rain. There were only a few shops and bars ,it seemed. And hardly any people were to be seen. Anne, Carla and I got one room which was surprisingly nice but had only one large bed. Which meant that I had to sleep on the sofa bed.
We learned that, in order to have dinner, we had to leave the house. Another hotel across the street would be the place where we were able to eat every night. Dinner on that first evening was not very comfortable for me. Nobody talked to me. On the other hand, I didn't feel the urge to start a conversation with anyone there, except Anne maybe. My whole attitude was so negative that the only urge I felt was the one to cry. Loudly. I will freely admit that I was homesick already. I WAS a little mummy's girl…
Day 1
A wonderful surprise greeted us the next morning. Stepping out onto our balcony we saw that it had snowed during the night. Suddenly everything looked romantic and those mountains you could see from our window had a beautiful white coat on them . We got dressed and rushed down for breakfast (which we could "enjoy" at our hotel). Dry bread and cold coffee convinced us how lucky we were not to have dinner at this hotel…
After putting our ski suits on we went outside to wait for the bus which would take us up to the slopes. When we arrived at the lifts we saw that there were already lots of people up there. The weather was great: it was sunny and cold. Because of my glasses I couldn't wear normal ski goggles, so I had two separate pieces of sun-glass to put on my regular glasses. I was the only one who was going to have lessons so Mrs Maus ( who turned out to be not that strict) came with me to rent skis, ski boots and poles for me. The people at the shop were very nice but they asked me how much I weighed because they had to give me the correct skies and boots. Being embarrassed, I lied to them, which they probably noticed. Oh, well, you have to have some secrets, right (even at the age of thirteen) ? Mrs Maus took me to my skiing course and left me at last. My teacher was not the attractive young ski hero I had been hoping for ,but a tanned man in his forties with a strong Austrian accent making it almost impossible for me to understand a word he was saying. The other people in my class were quite nice and everyone was excited. I have to say that we didn't do much on that first day, except learning how to fall and what to do when your ski comes off. We went down the so-called "idiot-slope" several times and then it was already time for me to meet the others. There were two slopes, one was the easy one, the other one was supposed to be really difficult. Everyone told me this, or let's say: I heard them talking about how exciting it was and how much fun it had been. There was this one group of boys from Anne and Carla's school. Boys who were a bit older than us and it was clear to me that Carla was determined to impress them. At dinner she couldn't stop boasting about her skiing skills. And she didn't get tired of pointing out that I was the only one who had spent the day on the "idiot-slope". It left me wondering who the idiot was. But I said nothing. Instead I just ignored her and her fabulous friends.
Day 2
Another surprise was awaiting me the next morning when we arrived at the ski runs. I got into a new skiing course ( I never learned the reason why) which meant that I got a new teacher and a new group. I got my equipment and this time we were allowed to go up to the easy slope. I got on the ski lift, which was basically a seat for three people and you had to sit on it with the skis on. It was a fun ride up with two nice girls from my course but once we arrived at the top I just wanted to disappear. What a mean trick: you had to jump up from your seat as soon as you arrived and ski down a small hill, from which you got to the real slope. I was scared and, of course, I practically fell out of the seat and slid down the hill with my skis coming off. Needless to say, this was the cause for much laughter. After happily (and healthily!) getting to the point where the skiing course had met, we tried to get down the ski run very slowly. This time I wasn't the only one who fell. It took us ages to get down and lots of very fast people skied by. But I have to say that it was fun despite the snow which constantly got on my glasses. I was really in need of a windscreen-wiper. Well, a windscreen-wiper for glasses.
Being happy that I survived my first experience on a ski run, I got into a very foolish mood that evening. Even Carla was being nice to me and so I didn't care what she would think of me. I had a little tape recorder with me and with that we recorded our conversation. We talked nonsense, but it was me who really lost control a bit and so I started talking about the boys, my family, school, crushes and, yes, for some crazy reason about gynaecologists and urologists ( my father IS a urologist). I don't know what had got into me, I was crazy. But I didn't think that anyone but us would ever get to hear this tape…
Later that evening the "cool boys" - Thilo, David, Nabil and Stefan - came to our room. They did talk to me and secretly I recorded our conversation, too. They laughed about my jokes, I laughed about their jokes, it was fun and I started to think that maybe they weren't that nasty after all. Well, only until they ripped off my cuddle mouse's tail!!! Oh, well.
Day 3
After we arrived at the ski station as we did every morning, I realised that I had forgotten my ski pass. I didn't have enough money with me to buy a ski pass for one day and, to be honest, I was glad to have a "day off". I stayed at the restaurant that was there as well and I met a few people from my first skiing course. Nothing spectacular happened that day and when we sat down for dinner I really felt as if I was part of the group. Not that it was very important to me to belong to this particular group, but it felt good.
Day 4
Another day on the mountain, another teacher for me! A very good-looking one, too! His name was Patrick and he was very nice. We met Anne, who wanted to get up on the easy slope with us. Patrick, Anne and I took a ski lift together. But the nearer we got to the top, the more my anxiety grew. When we arrived, Anne jumped off first, then Patrick and then… well, that should have been me, of course, but in my state of panic I stayed in my seat!!!!!!!!!
What then happened was the biggest embarrassment ever (up to that point at least!). The lift turned around a corner and I thought I would just go back down to the start. Instead a loud alarm signal could be heard and the lift ( and about a hundred people on the seats) stopped. I felt as if all people were looking at me, the fool who had caused this. Then the lift went backwards until it was in the normal "leaving" position. Luckily the very nice Patrick was waiting for me to help me out of the seat. Yes, I did feel like an 87-year old woman who needed some help! But the embarrassment didn't stop there:
After a few minutes on the slope, I fell flat on my face! Luckily my glasses didn't break entirely, but they were askew enough so that they wouldn't stay on my nose without me holding them up. I'm practically blind without glasses so it wouldn't have made much sense to take them off. That meant that I had to walk down the slope!!! All the people who were on the lift were laughing and shouting their little comments at me. Must have been funny for them. Not for me, though.
That evening I was the laughing stock of the group at dinner. They had all either seen me or had heard about my adventures. My glasses were alright again after a visit to the optician. I mean, normally I might have laughed with them, I CAN laugh about myself, but I felt such a fool!!
Unbelievably my torture wasn't over yet. The boys invited Anne and Carla to their room. I stayed in our room and read "The Thornbirds". I wanted to be Meggie Cleary, even if that meant that I had to live in the Australian desert. At least I would do it with grace.
Out of loneliness I decided to face the enemy and made my way to the boys' room. I arrived at their door and tried to hear what they were doing and saying. Then I could hear Carla's voice. And what I heard was this: "It's on the other side of the tape, guys!!" They had the tape. That tape, with all those terrible and humiliating things I had said that one evening. I couldn't believe it. But I heard them laughing and I knew that it was true. I left. I mean, I left the building and walked through the village. I decided to visit the girls I had met at my skiing course. They were so nice to me, I almost cried. I wanted to go home to my family, be with my friends and forget what had happened. I stayed a few hours before going back. Anne and Carla were still at the boys' room apparently. I went to bed.
Day 5
Next morning: the first thing Carla told me about was how much I had embarrassed myself the previous evening when the boys had heard the tape. Anne looked at her angrily and said: "That is not true, Carla! You embarrassed yourself!" I could have kissed her. Carla seemed to be astonished. I smiled at Anne and forgave her immediately that she was friends with this beast. Maybe Carla did have her nice side….Unfortunately I never got to know it!
The boys, especially Thilo grinned at me. I tried to ignore them despite their comments about gynaecologists and urologists. Only two more days and I would never have to see these people again, I thought.
Arriving at the slopes, I was very happy to see that I still had Patrick as my teacher. And this day was much more fun than the one before. Anne stayed with me and together with Patrick we managed the task of getting me off the lift seat without me falling or losing my skis. I fell only a few times but that was alright since everyone else did so, too. I noticed something that I hadn't noticed all those days, because I didn't give myself a chance: I quite liked skiing and despite being not very athletic, I wasn't too bad at it! Carla had gone with the boys to a really difficult slope. When we returned to the bus that would take us back down to Sölden we learned that Carla had had a "little" accident: a broken ankle after two minutes on the ski run! Later that day it turned out that it wasn't a complicated fracture, but it meant that she had to stay at the hotel the next day!!!
Anne and I had dinner with the girls from my course and we had a great time.
Last day
The last day up on the mountain was fantastic. I don't know why I could ski but I could and it was so much fun! Unfortunately, our Carla had to stay at home, while Mrs Maus invited the rest of us for lunch at the restaurant. I later found out that Mrs Maus had told the boys off because they had got drunk the night before. She said she would never let them come with her on a skiing holiday again! Well, I thought there is justice after all. I knew there was a strict side in this woman!
I said goodbye to my friends from the course and to Patrick who complimented me on my skiing skills! Well, thanks to a very good teacher I'd say! Or to be more precise, thanks to three different teachers in six days!
The last dinner in Sölden was nice. Thilo and the other boys came up to me afterwards and apologised for their behaviour the past few days. I don't know what made them do that. And I didn't care about their apology. These people weren't my friends but they had been close to demolishing all my self-confidence. Okay, I had made a fool of myself but I had done that before and I would probably do it sometime again as well. Nobody's perfect, but at least my character is nothing I have to be ashamed of.
By the way: I haven't been skiing again since then. I prefer throwing snow balls or building snow men instead. Try it, it's fun.
A week to remember
By XXXX
When I look back on all the holiday trips I've been on, I can honestly say that most of them were quite enjoyable. But there is one particular week that my memory will never allow me to forget, no matter how much time has gone by since then… October 1993 - I was thirteen years old and my mother had booked a trip to Austria for me to learn skiing. I was absolutely stunned. Was this the same woman who would never let me go to a sleepover, not even at my best friend's house, the woman who insisted on me being the first to leave every party I'd been to? Surely this was a joke. I mean it just had to be a joke. One of the cruel ones.
Why cruel? Well, first of all, I couldn't ski. Alright, I was supposed to learn it during that week. But I was not very athletic (to say the least) a girl with glasses as thick as the bottom of a bottle of Coke. I actually hated everything to do with sports. The second horrific aspect of a week in Austria was the group I had to travel with: upper-class kids from the best school in town, the richest dads around and with years of experience at skiing and snowboarding. Only because they went to St. Moritz or wherever, every winter. Of course. I knew everything about them and this legendary trip.
The only good thing was that my friend Anne would come as well. I had known her for almost eight years and although we never went to the same school (because she was one of THOSE kids), we remained friends. Unfortunately, her friend Carla was going too. Well, I thought, I could cope with that. All of my friends kept telling me how lucky I was to go to Sölden, the famous village in Austria where the group would stay. I didn't feel lucky at all. I still couldn't believe that my parents were doing this to me. I knew exactly where this would lead .
On the first day of the autumn holidays my family took me to the bus station, where a very strict looking woman seemed to be waiting just for me to arrive. Well, that was my impression. It was Mrs. Maus, who organised this tour every year. She looked at me like someone who sees a dead hedgehog on the road. And that was essentially what I wanted to be the moment I saw the other people who were supposed to come with us. One part of the group consisted of people around the age of 60, apparently already dressed in their skiing outfits! The other half was even worse: 25 teenagers ( mostly boys) around 17 years of age, all very cool-looking, noisy and, what I loathed most in this moment, happy. Anne and Carla seemed to know all of them. I said goodbye to my parents and siblings and got on one of the two busses waiting for us. It turned out that all the young people (including Carla) were on the other bus. Anne and I had to join the "old" group. We were the youngest anyway, but on this bus people treated us as if we were three years old. When someone found out that I had never been skiing before I earned another pitying look. What the hell was wrong with me??
During the ten-hour drive to Sölden we stopped at several rest areas. Carla took the chance to tell us how much fun it was to be on the other bus with all those cool older kids. I could see that Anne desperately wanted to be with them, too. But we had to stay with our new-found "friends". At around six o'clock we finally arrived in Sölden. We were disappointed to see that there was no snow at all. Our hotel was a small grey building. The town itself looked quite nice. Well, as nice as it could look in the rain. There were only a few shops and bars ,it seemed. And hardly any people were to be seen. Anne, Carla and I got one room which was surprisingly nice but had only one large bed. Which meant that I had to sleep on the sofa bed.
We learned that, in order to have dinner, we had to leave the house. Another hotel across the street would be the place where we were able to eat every night. Dinner on that first evening was not very comfortable for me. Nobody talked to me. On the other hand, I didn't feel the urge to start a conversation with anyone there, except Anne maybe. My whole attitude was so negative that the only urge I felt was the one to cry. Loudly. I will freely admit that I was homesick already. I WAS a little mummy's girl…
Day 1
A wonderful surprise greeted us the next morning. Stepping out onto our balcony we saw that it had snowed during the night. Suddenly everything looked romantic and those mountains you could see from our window had a beautiful white coat on them . We got dressed and rushed down for breakfast (which we could "enjoy" at our hotel). Dry bread and cold coffee convinced us how lucky we were not to have dinner at this hotel…
After putting our ski suits on we went outside to wait for the bus which would take us up to the slopes. When we arrived at the lifts we saw that there were already lots of people up there. The weather was great: it was sunny and cold. Because of my glasses I couldn't wear normal ski goggles, so I had two separate pieces of sun-glass to put on my regular glasses. I was the only one who was going to have lessons so Mrs Maus ( who turned out to be not that strict) came with me to rent skis, ski boots and poles for me. The people at the shop were very nice but they asked me how much I weighed because they had to give me the correct skies and boots. Being embarrassed, I lied to them, which they probably noticed. Oh, well, you have to have some secrets, right (even at the age of thirteen) ? Mrs Maus took me to my skiing course and left me at last. My teacher was not the attractive young ski hero I had been hoping for ,but a tanned man in his forties with a strong Austrian accent making it almost impossible for me to understand a word he was saying. The other people in my class were quite nice and everyone was excited. I have to say that we didn't do much on that first day, except learning how to fall and what to do when your ski comes off. We went down the so-called "idiot-slope" several times and then it was already time for me to meet the others. There were two slopes, one was the easy one, the other one was supposed to be really difficult. Everyone told me this, or let's say: I heard them talking about how exciting it was and how much fun it had been. There was this one group of boys from Anne and Carla's school. Boys who were a bit older than us and it was clear to me that Carla was determined to impress them. At dinner she couldn't stop boasting about her skiing skills. And she didn't get tired of pointing out that I was the only one who had spent the day on the "idiot-slope". It left me wondering who the idiot was. But I said nothing. Instead I just ignored her and her fabulous friends.
Day 2
Another surprise was awaiting me the next morning when we arrived at the ski runs. I got into a new skiing course ( I never learned the reason why) which meant that I got a new teacher and a new group. I got my equipment and this time we were allowed to go up to the easy slope. I got on the ski lift, which was basically a seat for three people and you had to sit on it with the skis on. It was a fun ride up with two nice girls from my course but once we arrived at the top I just wanted to disappear. What a mean trick: you had to jump up from your seat as soon as you arrived and ski down a small hill, from which you got to the real slope. I was scared and, of course, I practically fell out of the seat and slid down the hill with my skis coming off. Needless to say, this was the cause for much laughter. After happily (and healthily!) getting to the point where the skiing course had met, we tried to get down the ski run very slowly. This time I wasn't the only one who fell. It took us ages to get down and lots of very fast people skied by. But I have to say that it was fun despite the snow which constantly got on my glasses. I was really in need of a windscreen-wiper. Well, a windscreen-wiper for glasses.
Being happy that I survived my first experience on a ski run, I got into a very foolish mood that evening. Even Carla was being nice to me and so I didn't care what she would think of me. I had a little tape recorder with me and with that we recorded our conversation. We talked nonsense, but it was me who really lost control a bit and so I started talking about the boys, my family, school, crushes and, yes, for some crazy reason about gynaecologists and urologists ( my father IS a urologist). I don't know what had got into me, I was crazy. But I didn't think that anyone but us would ever get to hear this tape…
Later that evening the "cool boys" - Thilo, David, Nabil and Stefan - came to our room. They did talk to me and secretly I recorded our conversation, too. They laughed about my jokes, I laughed about their jokes, it was fun and I started to think that maybe they weren't that nasty after all. Well, only until they ripped off my cuddle mouse's tail!!! Oh, well.
Day 3
After we arrived at the ski station as we did every morning, I realised that I had forgotten my ski pass. I didn't have enough money with me to buy a ski pass for one day and, to be honest, I was glad to have a "day off". I stayed at the restaurant that was there as well and I met a few people from my first skiing course. Nothing spectacular happened that day and when we sat down for dinner I really felt as if I was part of the group. Not that it was very important to me to belong to this particular group, but it felt good.
Day 4
Another day on the mountain, another teacher for me! A very good-looking one, too! His name was Patrick and he was very nice. We met Anne, who wanted to get up on the easy slope with us. Patrick, Anne and I took a ski lift together. But the nearer we got to the top, the more my anxiety grew. When we arrived, Anne jumped off first, then Patrick and then… well, that should have been me, of course, but in my state of panic I stayed in my seat!!!!!!!!!
What then happened was the biggest embarrassment ever (up to that point at least!). The lift turned around a corner and I thought I would just go back down to the start. Instead a loud alarm signal could be heard and the lift ( and about a hundred people on the seats) stopped. I felt as if all people were looking at me, the fool who had caused this. Then the lift went backwards until it was in the normal "leaving" position. Luckily the very nice Patrick was waiting for me to help me out of the seat. Yes, I did feel like an 87-year old woman who needed some help! But the embarrassment didn't stop there:
After a few minutes on the slope, I fell flat on my face! Luckily my glasses didn't break entirely, but they were askew enough so that they wouldn't stay on my nose without me holding them up. I'm practically blind without glasses so it wouldn't have made much sense to take them off. That meant that I had to walk down the slope!!! All the people who were on the lift were laughing and shouting their little comments at me. Must have been funny for them. Not for me, though.
That evening I was the laughing stock of the group at dinner. They had all either seen me or had heard about my adventures. My glasses were alright again after a visit to the optician. I mean, normally I might have laughed with them, I CAN laugh about myself, but I felt such a fool!!
Unbelievably my torture wasn't over yet. The boys invited Anne and Carla to their room. I stayed in our room and read "The Thornbirds". I wanted to be Meggie Cleary, even if that meant that I had to live in the Australian desert. At least I would do it with grace.
Out of loneliness I decided to face the enemy and made my way to the boys' room. I arrived at their door and tried to hear what they were doing and saying. Then I could hear Carla's voice. And what I heard was this: "It's on the other side of the tape, guys!!" They had the tape. That tape, with all those terrible and humiliating things I had said that one evening. I couldn't believe it. But I heard them laughing and I knew that it was true. I left. I mean, I left the building and walked through the village. I decided to visit the girls I had met at my skiing course. They were so nice to me, I almost cried. I wanted to go home to my family, be with my friends and forget what had happened. I stayed a few hours before going back. Anne and Carla were still at the boys' room apparently. I went to bed.
Day 5
Next morning: the first thing Carla told me about was how much I had embarrassed myself the previous evening when the boys had heard the tape. Anne looked at her angrily and said: "That is not true, Carla! You embarrassed yourself!" I could have kissed her. Carla seemed to be astonished. I smiled at Anne and forgave her immediately that she was friends with this beast. Maybe Carla did have her nice side….Unfortunately I never got to know it!
The boys, especially Thilo grinned at me. I tried to ignore them despite their comments about gynaecologists and urologists. Only two more days and I would never have to see these people again, I thought.
Arriving at the slopes, I was very happy to see that I still had Patrick as my teacher. And this day was much more fun than the one before. Anne stayed with me and together with Patrick we managed the task of getting me off the lift seat without me falling or losing my skis. I fell only a few times but that was alright since everyone else did so, too. I noticed something that I hadn't noticed all those days, because I didn't give myself a chance: I quite liked skiing and despite being not very athletic, I wasn't too bad at it! Carla had gone with the boys to a really difficult slope. When we returned to the bus that would take us back down to Sölden we learned that Carla had had a "little" accident: a broken ankle after two minutes on the ski run! Later that day it turned out that it wasn't a complicated fracture, but it meant that she had to stay at the hotel the next day!!!
Anne and I had dinner with the girls from my course and we had a great time.
Last day
The last day up on the mountain was fantastic. I don't know why I could ski but I could and it was so much fun! Unfortunately, our Carla had to stay at home, while Mrs Maus invited the rest of us for lunch at the restaurant. I later found out that Mrs Maus had told the boys off because they had got drunk the night before. She said she would never let them come with her on a skiing holiday again! Well, I thought there is justice after all. I knew there was a strict side in this woman!
I said goodbye to my friends from the course and to Patrick who complimented me on my skiing skills! Well, thanks to a very good teacher I'd say! Or to be more precise, thanks to three different teachers in six days!
The last dinner in Sölden was nice. Thilo and the other boys came up to me afterwards and apologised for their behaviour the past few days. I don't know what made them do that. And I didn't care about their apology. These people weren't my friends but they had been close to demolishing all my self-confidence. Okay, I had made a fool of myself but I had done that before and I would probably do it sometime again as well. Nobody's perfect, but at least my character is nothing I have to be ashamed of.
By the way: I haven't been skiing again since then. I prefer throwing snow balls or building snow men instead. Try it, it's fun.
Donnerstag, 6. September 2007
The most awesome thing
....on German TV is a daily soap opera called "Verbotene Liebe" which translates to Forbidden Love. And verboten it is. Verbotenly bad and cheesy and full of amateur actors and atrocious writing. Which makes it the most awesome thing because it's must-see trainwreck TV. I've been watching this for more than ten years. I know no shame.
The original forbidden love was (of course) between twins Jan and Julia -ew- who first met when they were 21 and had no idea that they were related when they fell in love. That little info only leaked after Julia got leukemia and their mother finally told the truth so that Jan could be a blood (or something) donor. Whatever. After that they continued for years to make sad puppy eyes at each other and longing for some sibling sex. Yes, I just grossed myself out by writing that. They eventually left my TV screen never to be seen again. The quality of the show took an unexpected turn into a better direction. It seemed that once the writers were free of the explosive incest love story they started coming up with stories of couples we could actually root for. Because, honestly: who wants to see brother and sister riding happily ever after into the sunset. These ones didn't, thanks Xenu.
Which brings me to my current problem with the show. And I've had many over the years, trust me. There's another forbidden love at the moment between siblings Leo and Sarah. Except they're not. Siblings, that is. Which us viewers have known for ages but we were still forced to watch some tragic scenes (tragic in every sense) and were supposed to feel sorry for the two most unlikable characters on the show. Who are both engaged to other people. Sarah's engaged to a man who's been left at the altar once before and it's clear that the writers are determined to fuck with this character again. Since he's an idiot (whose last name means "man") I'll be fine with that. Leo of course is engaged to a saint-like nurse in her late teens who is blissfully ignorant of all the looks exchanged between her fianceé and her (of course!) BFF Sarah. I feel like shooting her every time she says "we're the perfect couple! And our BFFs are a perfect couple too! Let's all get married on the same day!"
So you see, it's a typical soap opera just with more lesbians and murderers than your usual soap. (Not that I put those two into the same category!!)
Not sure why I wrote so much about this, this is going nowhere, sorry. And I'm off now to watch the latest episode. But watch this space for more random rants about the most awesome thing on German TV.
The original forbidden love was (of course) between twins Jan and Julia -ew- who first met when they were 21 and had no idea that they were related when they fell in love. That little info only leaked after Julia got leukemia and their mother finally told the truth so that Jan could be a blood (or something) donor. Whatever. After that they continued for years to make sad puppy eyes at each other and longing for some sibling sex. Yes, I just grossed myself out by writing that. They eventually left my TV screen never to be seen again. The quality of the show took an unexpected turn into a better direction. It seemed that once the writers were free of the explosive incest love story they started coming up with stories of couples we could actually root for. Because, honestly: who wants to see brother and sister riding happily ever after into the sunset. These ones didn't, thanks Xenu.
Which brings me to my current problem with the show. And I've had many over the years, trust me. There's another forbidden love at the moment between siblings Leo and Sarah. Except they're not. Siblings, that is. Which us viewers have known for ages but we were still forced to watch some tragic scenes (tragic in every sense) and were supposed to feel sorry for the two most unlikable characters on the show. Who are both engaged to other people. Sarah's engaged to a man who's been left at the altar once before and it's clear that the writers are determined to fuck with this character again. Since he's an idiot (whose last name means "man") I'll be fine with that. Leo of course is engaged to a saint-like nurse in her late teens who is blissfully ignorant of all the looks exchanged between her fianceé and her (of course!) BFF Sarah. I feel like shooting her every time she says "we're the perfect couple! And our BFFs are a perfect couple too! Let's all get married on the same day!"
So you see, it's a typical soap opera just with more lesbians and murderers than your usual soap. (Not that I put those two into the same category!!)
Not sure why I wrote so much about this, this is going nowhere, sorry. And I'm off now to watch the latest episode. But watch this space for more random rants about the most awesome thing on German TV.
Mittwoch, 5. September 2007
AmIAnnoying.com?
youare.net. Or rather: Iam.org. Sorry. See, I am annoying.
I hate it when people are annoyed with me. Because 1) they usually have every right to be and 2) in my pathetic attempts to make them like me again I'm even more annoying.
By the way, the website that gave today's entry's title is still worth a look. Everybody is annoying.
I hate it when people are annoyed with me. Because 1) they usually have every right to be and 2) in my pathetic attempts to make them like me again I'm even more annoying.
By the way, the website that gave today's entry's title is still worth a look. Everybody is annoying.
Dienstag, 4. September 2007
Life's too short not to....
fawn, lust and squee over people.
OK, so just one person in today's post, Lee Mead (and with that - welcome, google user!) but there'll be plenty more. Because - as much as I'd like to pretent that I'm all deep and about life's secrets and philosophy and all that - I'm not. And I'm telling you this in my second post already. Go me.
Begin
Life's too short not to.....
tell your family that you love them. Seriously. Times like these make me realize that I don't do that often enough. But you knew that one already. I'm not going to reveal life's secrets on here. Life has yet to tell me those. Here's a little conversation we had the other day:
Me: Life?
Life: Yeah?
Me: You know how in the beginning I always wanted to know what would happen next and how I couldn't wait for everything and all?
L: Are you quoting that Dawson's Creek theme song?! Fucking hate that one!
M: I am not! And can we please stick to the topic here?
L: Which is...me. Sure, go ahead.
M: Anyway, lately I found that I don't even want to know what will happen next. You haven't made it easy for me in the past few years, you know. And now I don't dare to find out what you will be like for me in the future.
L: That's because you're stupid.
M: Gee, thanks bu....
L: And how would you find out what will happen in the future? You'll only know what I hold for you once it happens. That's the great thing about me. I'm full of surprises you know.
M: Fuck, yeah!
L: It doesn't matter if you want to find out what'll happen or if you don't want to, it'll happen anyway.
M: Ok then, tell me how to have a happy life!
L: What, not content with what you've got?
M: Erm, no.
L: See, that's the problem right there!
M: You mean, I should be happy with the crappy life I've got and then I'll be happy? What kind of logic is that? That's like saying "Ok, I'm happy with the fat body I have right now" and bang! Slim I am! WTF, life, you suck!
L: Oh, get lost.
M: You too.
L: Ah no.
And that was it. No secrets, no wisdom. I have none of that but will write anyway. Maybe life's secrets and wisdom will come to me eventually.
I've become an aunt to a little boy who had the roughest start to life anyone can imagine and I already have so much respect for him. He's fighting to stay with this world and that alone makes me his biggest fan. Life keep that one with you.
tell your family that you love them. Seriously. Times like these make me realize that I don't do that often enough. But you knew that one already. I'm not going to reveal life's secrets on here. Life has yet to tell me those. Here's a little conversation we had the other day:
Me: Life?
Life: Yeah?
Me: You know how in the beginning I always wanted to know what would happen next and how I couldn't wait for everything and all?
L: Are you quoting that Dawson's Creek theme song?! Fucking hate that one!
M: I am not! And can we please stick to the topic here?
L: Which is...me. Sure, go ahead.
M: Anyway, lately I found that I don't even want to know what will happen next. You haven't made it easy for me in the past few years, you know. And now I don't dare to find out what you will be like for me in the future.
L: That's because you're stupid.
M: Gee, thanks bu....
L: And how would you find out what will happen in the future? You'll only know what I hold for you once it happens. That's the great thing about me. I'm full of surprises you know.
M: Fuck, yeah!
L: It doesn't matter if you want to find out what'll happen or if you don't want to, it'll happen anyway.
M: Ok then, tell me how to have a happy life!
L: What, not content with what you've got?
M: Erm, no.
L: See, that's the problem right there!
M: You mean, I should be happy with the crappy life I've got and then I'll be happy? What kind of logic is that? That's like saying "Ok, I'm happy with the fat body I have right now" and bang! Slim I am! WTF, life, you suck!
L: Oh, get lost.
M: You too.
L: Ah no.
And that was it. No secrets, no wisdom. I have none of that but will write anyway. Maybe life's secrets and wisdom will come to me eventually.
I've become an aunt to a little boy who had the roughest start to life anyone can imagine and I already have so much respect for him. He's fighting to stay with this world and that alone makes me his biggest fan. Life keep that one with you.
Abonnieren
Posts (Atom)