Comme envie de crever ton chat...

Reader, I can't take any more. I'm not like that, usually, I don't ever talk about politics, not here, at least, but well, this is the Internet, and on the Internet, any fool can express their opinion, whether sufficiently informed or not, so this here is mine. The opinion of an uninformed fool. Here are 5 things that, truly, really, profoundly and deeply annoy me about France these days.

1. I cannot deal with the blatant populist crap that's been vented by the people in power over the past few months. We are dealing with all kinds of troubles, these times, a terrible economic crisis, war in Lybia, it's not like it's a light news week, and yet, what do we talk about? We go on and on about state subsidies for the poor and how that's too much already. We start a 20th debate about Islam in France. As if that was going to make anything better. As if the problem with Islam and France was not that we talk about it as if it were a bloody problem.

2. Follows on 1.'s heels: Why can't they see that it doesn't work? Why can the moderate right-wing people not just wake up already: the number of their supporters are plummeting, the extreme-right party is getting more and more successful... Maybe it's time for a change in strategy, what do you think? Come on! Come on! I listen to them and they remind me of Fox News maniacs. I like my country better when it's lukewarm. The outdated racism we are dealing with these days makes me want to come home and fight. It makes ME! want to go home and fight. You might not really know me, reader, but I'm one of them half-hearted, don't really give a damn kind of people. What I'm saying is: It's bad.

3. That thing with the head of the IMF. I don't know if it's a terrible ploy against him as a person or if he just snapped, I don't really care, to be honest, it's a sad story either way. But in any case, that's one more interesting candidate for the French presidential election 2012 down, and it's depressing.

4. Follows from 1 and 2 as well: people are getting louder and louder and feel less and less guilty about voicing hateful, racist points of view. I've seen a piece on TV today, a typical xenophobic rant, things that I might have found... well in a way normal from an 80-year-old, because well, it takes time to know enough to not fear the people coming over to your country. From a bus driver. He might have been 40 something. Is that really what it's all coming to? Are we not a little bit cleverer?

5. The media, too. I'm not really blaming it on the reporters, they do their job and report, but maybe, maybe if we did not jump on every occasion to broadcast racist rants and backward remarks, we would have less of a problem with people broadcasting their own racist rants and backward remarks on the bus. But then I might be wrong about that, because, as they say, know your enemy.

Well, I sound just like the holier than thou pains-in-the-butt that I would like not to become, but it just had to come out. I just had to say it. This is NOT GOOD, and I really, really wish it would stop. Self-righteous rage is not a good look for me.

Ja, dieses Schunkeln kann ich nicht ausstehn

Oh Lord. OK. This is probably my very last post. I'm scared. The city is under siege, shops are closing down and the enemies are about to attack. It will start. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, the end begins. I shake in my boots, and fill jute-bags with sand, I stopped showering with water three weeks ago and use Früh beer instead, hoping against hope that they might not smell me, yet I cannot but shiver at the mere evocation of the word :

Carneval

Carneval is upon us, my friends, and we'll need all the support we can get. My sister's coming over with her husband V, and if that cannot trump the odds and help me have a cool week-end nonetheless, then I'm sure that nothing can.

I do not understand carneval. I am scared of the drunken packs roaming the streets. I do not like to dress up, and have a (I believe very healthy) severe dislike to Volksmusik. I do not understand it, and I do not mean that in a metaphorical way. I asked my roommates the other day about the posters that you can see all over the city, with "Kölle Alaaf" written on them. Roommate 1 said : "I don't think it means anything, I think it's just an exclamation, kinda like "yay" or something". To which roommate 2 answered "Yeah, arschloch is an exclamation too, it still means something". I feel very close to roommate 2's Carneval-spiritedness, these days.

But I'm sure we can overcome. I'm sure we can manage to avoid the worst part of it and just enjoy the fun. Because I've heard of a few sane people who actually enjoy Carneval. A few cool bars, and a few parades are supposed to be quite pretty and colorful, and even, on occasions, fun. I'm scared because when I ask people how to avoid the worst parts, I'm generally laughed at. I don't get any anwer. Just ominous giggles, and, when I'm real lucky, a look of amused pity. But I'm sure we can manage.

If we don't, well, we'll just go home and hide under my bed, all three of us. Whatever happens, I'm pretty sure we'll have a laugh!

Living in a Winter Wonderland

Oh man. I'm slowly defrosting on my bed, and my fingers are still numb from the coldness outside. I did nothing at all yesterday, so today I figured, it doesn't matter if it snows, I'm going into town. I'm a tough polar bear. I'm so hot I never get cold. Something like that. Didn't quite work out, and I ended up in Starbucks, hugging my white chocolate mocha as if it were my true love come back from the war. Now that I come to think of it, it is very possible that white chocolate mocha's my true love. Anyway.

I did nothing at all yesterday, except for chatting with my sisters on Skype (I love Skype. I love Skype and white chocolate mochas) and I talked to them about my new appartment, and my sister F said that sharing a flat was often awkward. You can count on my sister F to find the exact, perfect word. AWKWARD is what it is. And fun. But also awkward. So here are my top 5 awkward things about the first days you spend in a new flat. May not be the most christmas-y or the most refined and ladylike post ever, but hell.

1. Food. It's awkward having everyone know what you eat. I decided this time I would only ever eat my meals in the kitchen, because I need to socialize, and because it's going to help me not gain 10 pounds (because when in the kitchen, I tend to get nervous and think things like "I'm sure they think I eat all the time. I'm sure they noticed the lack of greens in my diet, I'm sure they JUDGE me. Because obviously, my flatmates have nothing better to do with their time than watch my diet)... But the amount of question it raises is staggering. Do I cook just for me, do I make enough for the others as well, even though we're not eating together, do I knock on their door and tell them I've made some food, or do I leave people alone? Awkward.

2. Laundry. Now, here, in this appartment, the wire-thingy on which you hang your clothes to dry is located in the kitchen. This is a problem for underwear-wearing people, like me. I generally solve this problem by hanging things in my closet, except, obviously, I don't have a closet, because my room contains... well a bed, and nothing else. So I opened up a cardboard box, and made a nice little underwear tree, that I hid behind my bedroom door. It looked comical. And slightly embarrassing. But it's already disappeared, as if nothing had ever been there.

3. The passive-agressive quality of washing the dishes. Because I'm fine with washing the dishes in the sink when I wash my own dishes. I don't think my roommates are sloppy, and I'm very happy for them to leave a few plates in the sink. I'm no clean freak (understatement of the century), and it's all perfectly OK. However, I have noticed in the past, that people tend to understand you washing their dishes as a message to wash their own dishes in the future. It's a little bit awkward.

4. Getting up late in the morning. Getting up at all. In fact, my problem, I think, is that I'm always trying to pretend I'm a pretty princess that doesn't ever sleep and that looks fresh as a rose at all times. And eats healthy food and gets up at 6 every morning to go jogging in the snow. So when I open my left eye at 11:30, and figure it's time to roll off my bed, looking like I've been trampled by a horse, you better hope there's no one in the kitchen. Worse of all is when there's someone LURKING in the kitchen (like I do), sitting at the table and silently drinking some silent coffee. Awkward.

5. Music. Ok, in our case here, it seems pretty straightforward. I know what they like and don't like, they know I'm the folk/pop kind of person. BUT: can I play a CD in the kitchen while making cookies? Do they hear my music when I play it in my room? More importantly, do they hear me laughing out loud when watching Craig Ferguson alone in my room? Awkward again.

Anyway. Here you are. Ever experienced flat-sharing awkwardness yourself, reader? By the way, I hope you like the pictures in this post, absolutely nothing to do with anything, but I took them here over the last few days, so I figured I might as well post them.

It makes me smile...

Now, I know this is pathetic, I put it on Facebook already and all, but I'm sorry, any pink truck called tro-con deserves a bit more advertisement. For any non-French-speaking reader I may have: it means "totally stupid" in French, or something close. Makes me happy. One of these schadenfreude things...

Too cool for school

Hej reader.

I'm in Köln again, looking for a flat, and I couldn't resist the impulse to come over here and blog a little bit, to fight off the panic attack.

I HATE looking for flats. I'm no good at looking cool. Especially not at looking cool on purpose. I have three visits planned so far, and they all seem like nice people, but I always go giggly and daft when I meet potential roommates (or, more generally, people) for the first time, and then I panick, and it makes everything worse. I have terrible, terrible giggly-issues.

So here I am, the incarnation of misery, lying on my hostel bed, trembling and lightly drooling, saucepan-eyed and looking like someone who's in the queue to see Saw 3D. I mean, honestly, who wants to see Saw 3D?

Anyway... I don't really look like the incarnation of misery, tough, I look more like Frankenstein's bride, because I saw the Rocky Horror Picture Show yesterday, and it made me want to wear bright red lipstick, which is a weird idea, especially when you're me. But I figured, bright red lipstick is cool, a little bit like me, Claire, the Ideal Flatmate. I'm FlatGirl, the superhero who's great at sharing flats. Actually, I might stick to that name. I'm FLATWOMAN!! BOW TO ME!!

See? See what room hunting's done to me? I'm losing it!! Losing my last marbles!

Anyway. Apart from that, everything's fine, and be sure that I'll keep you posted on my flat-hunt. Who knows what I'll find this time! Probably a Plutonian or something. At least one of the flats I am going to visit already told me they were "alternative" and the kitchen was "somewhat less than perfectly equipped". I bet this is the one...

Anyway, sorry for being all crazy, I thought maybe a non-top-five post would do me good, and I do feel a little better now. Less panicky. More professional. I'm like a bounty hunter. I'm like Trinity, only cooler... My my... This is going to be fun...

It's just a thought...

Fiiieeeeeewwwh!

I'm back home, and what a week (or a couple of weeks) it's been. I've been to Lyon, Paris, Limoges, Metz, Chalons en Champagne, Troyes, then back home for a night, then Cologne, then Lille, then back home, where I am right now, sitting on my parent's couch, as usual. It's been crazy and exciting and cool, and I wish I had that much to do more often. Maybe not all the time, but it definitely was cool. Maybe all the time would be ok once I get used to the rythm.

Anyway. What I wanted to tell you about today, reader, is Cologne. I don't know if I already told you this, but I intend to go there for a while. As in I don't really know how long. Maybe a few months, maybe a year, maybe less, maybe more, in any case, I want to go there for a while.

Might never even happen, who knows, but it's the plan. And here's why. It's going to be a long post, but there's very little to read. I'm very sorry about the quality, all pictures were taken from my iPhone, and I'm not quite used to it yet. By the way: Thanks go to my best friend V for giving me her iPhone, it's so cool to have an internet access all the time! I love it.

There. Is it not nice? The Rhein, the big bridge and the Cathedral? I like it. The light was a little strange, half grey, half twilight, half sunset (Ok, that would be thirds, then, but you see what I mean). There was a big crowd there, and everyone was rushing back to the city and trying to see the view at the same time, and for a second, I had a weird feeling that all these people, coming directly from the Koelnmesse, men in suits and women in high heels, were about to jump in the river like lemmings. They did not. Anticlimax of the century.

There seems to be quite a lot of things going on as well. Ok, Kylie Minogue and Wir sind Helden may not be my all time favourites, but still. Plenty of concerts. And Charlie Winston was there just yesterday. Besides, I don't really know Wir sind Helden that well, and I'm ready to believe they really are heroes. Who knows.

Also, Cologne is apparently in Mordor. And if that's true, then Aragorn can't be far. And that's good, isn't it?

They are not completely barbaric. They know how to live (that's a Comptoir des Cotonniers shop and an "elsässisch" restaurant in case you can't read. It really is very blurry, but it makes me very self conscious to take photographs of ridiculous things when I'm on my own, so I did not take more than one shot.)

My sister M, who likes this kind of things, will have reason to come and visit me. Is this big guy not awesome? I find him awesome.

And also, also :

Need I say more? If I ever go, I will come back a different woman. As in 80 pounds heavier.

I have to show you this however. I am sorry, but I have to. Germans will be Germans...

Several things spring to mind when seeing something like this. Things like, "oh Lord, that laughing piglet wants my soul". Things like "A bag full of lard? Really, Deutschland? Is that a marketing concept?". And in case you were wondering, I did buy the bag. I could not bring myself to take a picture of such a ludicrous thing in the shop. So I spent good money on it. Then I figured, hell, it's just marshmallow, and I opened it. And I ate it all. I am full of shame and fake lard.

Have a nice day, now, reader.

Unrockbar

Today, in order to fight boredom and try and have an adventure, I comandeered my father's car and set off to the wonderful, amazing, dazzling and sexy town of Breisach am Rhein. It was a weird idea, one which I do not, however, regret, insofar as I got myself a nice piece of blackberry pie in the bargain. Oh, and I bought a book, which doesn't seem to be as bad as the previous 13 I bought in Germany. I also figured out a new list, while I was there, looking around and wondering: the top 3 weird things that puzzle me about Germany.

1. What is with Germany and weird shops that sell things that have nothing to do with one another? I don't mean a regular kind of general store. I mean plain weird things. Today, I got into one shop that sold clothes and pans. PANS. What do PANS have to do in a clothes shop? What do clothes have to do in a pan shop? They also sold vases (!) and socks, but mostly clothes, and pans. They did not sell other kitchen equipment. Just pans, and clothes. Flabbergasting. I know that's not a verb, but you get my meaning. Why?

2. They seem to take the law of comparative advantages reaaaaaally seriouly. Ok, this is not just about Germany, it also includes the majestic city of Graz, where I started this blog. I'd like to know why there are about 90 opticians in Saarbrücken (can't even type that name without starting to shake again), 500 pharmacies in Breisach, and why one shop in two in Graz, Austria, is actually selling carpets. Do they have like a weird rate of eye diseases in Saarbrücken? Are all Graz-ians yogis? Oh, and also ice-cream shops in Baden-Baden, and bookstores in Stuttgart. Why, reader, WHY??

3. When you go to Germany, people are dressed pretty much like we are in France. Maybe a little bit more gothic people, maybe (probably) a higher rate of tattooed people, but still... it's pretty much the same all over. HOWEVER, when you go into German clothes shops, (except for Freiburg and Berlin) it looks a lot like a Damart catalogue. Weird dresses that would look good in an episode of Murder, she wrote* and that are altogether unsightly, leopard-print scarves, extremely strange shoes (and when I say strange, I do mean ugly) can be found in shops, but nowhere on the streets. This might be just Western Germany, though, I haven't noticed the same in Berlin. Puzzlement ensues.

So here I am, puzzled and with no hope of ever finding an answer. I will, however, continue this list once I find more information. I intend to set off for Köln soon, and continue my inquiries. I will keep you posted.

*Has there been a murder ?