I may tarry a while...

"If I'm late, don't wait

Go home without me

I may tarry a while

'Cause I need to know

Before I go :

How come the devil smiles"

I have not been writing here in forever, and I'm kind of missing my blog. Actually, I think what I'm missing is inspiration. And I mean that as in "I miss you" not as in "there's no coffee left" (I am making very little sense, and hope that you can read my mind...)

In any case, part of the things I do when I want inspiration is I go for a walk. Nothing new, of course, but walking tends to help me think clearer. Or maybe not clearer, but in a more focused manner.

So this summer, in order to look for inspiration, I've been going for walks in the night. Yeah, because I'm too cool for school, and walking during the day is so yesterday. Actually, here is a list of 5 good reasons to go have a nice walk by night, especially if you live in Cologne.

1. It prevents you from being reduced to a smouldering mess on the pavement. After a long, hot day of summer, when it's time to go to bed, but you don't want to get between the sheets because they're going to be sticky and you'll be too warm, just turn all the lights off, open the window very wide, put on a t-shirt, and walk off for an hour. Things will be much better when you come back (supposedly. Sometimes, a giant moth may decide to settle in while you're away, and then you'll have to chase it through the room, which will help you build out a nice little sweat, and then you're doomed to go back and have another little walk.)

2. There's no better opportunity to pretend you're a ninja fighter. Or a medieval princess. Or a gothic vampire warrior. Or a drug dealer. No one's on the streets, and you can just go ahead and be whatever you like. Depending on what your MP3 player decided to choose. (Respectively the Kung Fu Panda soundtrack, Emily Portman, weird techno stuff roommate N gave me or the "The Wire" soundtrack).

3. There's no better opportunity to be cheesy. If you're alone. Because in fact, it's not a necessary condition. Sometimes, going for a walk at night WITH someone is even cooler. But if that option's out, then you can go alone and have the cheeziest thoughts ever. You know, some of the thoughts when you're convinced you've found some Sacred Snippet of Truth. Actually, you've forgotten all about them by the time you reach your front door again, but still, it's nice.

4. It's cheap and romantic. It's actually not romantic at all, it's just walking in the night, but then you can claim that you "like to take long walks in the night". Kind of like "I'm writing a novel actually" or something. And it's sport without being sport, as well, which is wonderful. Ok, it's not sport at all, but calory-wise, it's still better than to sit on my couch, I guess.

5. It gets you acquainted with your neighbourhood in a very different way. It's in the dark, and there's no one around, so if you like you can stop and have a closer look at the grafiti, or maybe even stop and READ them (in my neighbourhood in Cologne, we've got a crazy person writing whole political pamphlets on the walls... Very strange. I don't understand anything, I just wonder where the guy came from, because he seems to know what he's talking about. I'd bet on a rogue European MP, driven mad by a 5 hours meeting on the correct length of shoe laces.) I'd say "you can stop in your tracks and look at the stars" as well, only I tried that the other day, and it turns out there actually was someone on the street and he stared at me like I was nuts (some people just don't get cheaply romantic, do they??)

Anyway. It's time for me to get back to my vocab list for my contract tomorrow (which, as it turns out, is much cooler than I expected it to be, so life's good). Have a nice night, and sweet dreams, reader!

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!

Shore to shore

I'm back from working in Dakar. I'm sick, I'm sunburnt and I'm exhausted, but it was pretty cool nontheless, when I think back on it. So here are 5 things I learnt over the week I spent there...

1. I can get culture shock. It takes me 2 days to get over it, and then I feel much better. But it has weird consequences : I get scared of everything... cockroaches, people, cars, getting my bag stolen, getting sick from the food, getting sick from the mosquitoes, getting sick from the mosquito repellent, getting lost... 2 days, then I feel much better, but it really had consequences on me that I would never have thought it'd have. It turned me into a real sissy, is what I mean. For 2 days. Then I was just a regular sissy, but at least I started talking to people and enjoying myself.

Still, I'm really angry at myself about the cockroach issue. A big, red one with large antennaes, on the wall in the bathroom. I'm NOT SCARED OF SCORPIONS, but a stupid cockroach nearly got me screaming like a girl! Ok, I am a girl, but you see what I mean. Stupid crap animal jumped on the toilet seat, then on the floor, then ran away between my feet, making awful, terrible little clicking noises on the tiles with its gross little legs. I might have gone : "meeeeeeeeeeeek", but it was just ultrasound, and I don't think my roommates noticed anything.

2. Opening the blinds, and having a gorgeous view of the sea is all I need to be in a good mood in the morning. Was that so very complicated? Is that too much to ask? Honestly?

3. I cannot negociate. I've heard on my last day that when someone offers 20 000 FCFA as a price, you need to say "5000" and then reach 10 000 in the end, halving the difference everytime. I tended to say"19000", then the guy would say "you're robbing me!" and I'd end up paying 22000 and leaving a tip. If I had stayed a few more weeks, I'd have had the GDP triple.

4. I found a cause I'm willing to fight for. I saw a guy, alone, with a sheet of paper (a sheet of paper, a regular one, not a banner or anything). He'd written "I'm fed up" on it, with a red sharpie, and was marching down the alleys screaming "I'm FED UP!". I wanted to get his contacts and become a fan on Facebook, but I was in awe, and did not have the presence of mind to go and talk to him.

5. What EVER happens : Sunscreen.

So yeah. I had a pretty good time in Senegal, ate a lot of grilled fish, talked to a bunch of really cool people that I would never have had the opportunity to meet otherwise (the interpreting team really was very, very cool, and I do hope I'll get to see them again at some point).

I'm my own grand'pa

Hullo reader ! Well, I haven't been writing here in forever, so I thought I'd drop by, and keep you updated on my status, because, as is famously known, my life is rivetting. So here are 5 random news from Cologne.

1. I still love it here. I love my room (which is actually furnished now, and very comfy too, thanks to the generosity of... we'll say Santa Claus, but you know who you are), my flatmates are still great, and if only I could manage to drag my butt out there, I'm pretty sure I'd even enjoy the city in itself. I've been a little short on time, in fact, these days, and haven't been to the city center this week. Maybe it would be a good idea to get some fresh air. And ice cold wind. And rain.

2. I went to a techno party with flatmate N the other day. I went mostly out of curiosity, but I really did love it. I think it's not really music. And I don't mean that in a grandmother "that's not music it's noise" kind of way, obviously. It's just, it doesn't talk to your ears so much as to your ribcage. It's music that you can actually (cheesy-alert) listen with your heart. I mean that literally. Because it vibrates. Follows that you can also listen to it with your lower intestine, but that's a really cheap joke. "Bässe massieren eure Seele" I guess is what I mean, but Peter Fox said it better than I can, though it's a little pompous for my purpose, I guess.

3. I'm going to Senegal next month, to work. I'm kind of scared. I don't know what to expect, there are going to be hundreds of us out there, and I don't generally like such huge gatherings, but I'm still very excited and can't wait to be there. It's probably going to be sunny as well, which really will be a nice change, the weather here is just plain depressing. I already got my shots and my passport, and my plane ticket and all, but I still feel like there's no way I'm going to Senegal in a week or so. Still, it's going to be very cool, and my friend J is going too, so I'm guaranteed to have a lot of fun.

4. I've been watching too many stupid videos on the internet lately. Especially Muppets video. Therefore, I've had stupid songs stuck in my head for days, like the Manah manah song, or the one that goes "I'm my own grandpa ! I'm my own grandpa ! It sounds silly I know, but it really is so, oh I'm my own grandpa". It has been a constant and conscious effort not to start yelling them out in the kitchen randomly. I'm holding on. I think it may burst out of me some time, and then, though I will still find my roommates great, they might change their mind and throw me out on the streets. Thanks for nothing, Jim Henson!

5. I've bought a salad today (rivetting, I told you). One of these pre-mixed, ready to eat things with mayonnaise in them. I thought it was perfectly innocent coleslaw, carrot-free and delicious. It actually containted PINEAPPLE. PINE-APPLE in COLESLAW. Germans are mad.

Well, that's it from here, I believe. I hope you're well. As for me, I'm going to go have a look in the kitchen, see if there's something reasonable I can scavenge.

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.

So many possibilities

I'm in Cologne, reader! For real! I moved in! \o/

So here are 5 things that I love about my new appartment, and 5 things that slightly worry, or worried me.

1. Worrying: my roommate's e-mail the day before I arrived, suitcase already packed and all: "You are aware, of course that the room is not furnished?!" I wasn't.

1. Cool: my roommates (N and I) are very helpful and provided a blanket and a matress for my hopeless self. (Yes, for my hopeless self. I played it Jane Eyre style the whole week through. I read Jane Eyre again, and it's still as good as ever. I especially enjoyed the part where she said mother nature would have to provide her with lodging free of charge. I could rely... ok, right, I'm overdoing it again, now...)

2. Worrying: The heater doesn't really work, and I'm freezing... my... bottom... off. (Actually, apparently, it's not that the heater doesn't work, but that there is, litterally, no isolation whatsoever.)

2. Cool: I'm actually OK since yesterday's trip to Ikea. I bought a nice warm blanket and I slept much better last night. I nearly never came out of the Ikea Köln alive, reader. I might have died in there. I went back in to eat köttbullar once I had paid for everything, and I had my blanket with me, and I figured, of course, I can get to the exit directly through the restaurant. I couldn't, and had to go back to the checkout counter. I ran through the whole Ikea again, explained my situation to the security manager, and looked absolutely ridiculous (and like an evil blanket-thief, as well. Blanket-thieves are the worst kind there is. Despicable really). BUT I did manage to get out, with my blanket and all, and now I have a nice cozy room, with a bed and curtains, and life is beautiful.

3. Worrying: There's a cow's head on a stick in the garden. One of them skeleton heads. And its horns are painted bright orange. I am slightly worried by this. I think anyone would be, really. It is a slightly worring fact, by all accounts.

3. I haven't found the bright side to having a dead cow's head on a stick in your backyard, but I'll keep you informed. Meanwhile, let me mention my cool roommates again (I cooked for all of us yesterday evening (ha ha. I the roomate. Not I me. Ok, for the sake of clarity, we'll call him Ing)... where was I? Yes : Ing cooked for all of us yesterday, and we all seem to be getting along really well). Also worth mentioning in the cool category : though really cold, my room is very pretty, with little golden things painted in the corners, and real floorboards. I love my room.

4. Worrying: My roommates asked me yesterday if I had any plans for the evening. I did not. I do not have plans. They have an actual word for it in German, "Planlos" (Planless, obviously, though I never heard it used in English and they use it a lot in German. Mostly in my presence. Somehow).

4. Cool: No plans = an infinite choice of possibilities. So I'll just be not lazy for once, and maybe go for a drink and have a look at the christmas markets (and eat apple-sauce and drink some glühwein), and then maybe I'll go to the movies. I'd like to see Tangled, and I figure it's OK to watch animation in something else than the original version.

5. Worrying: I'm a little roommate-shy. I'm catching myself not getting out of my room when there's someone in the kitchen, and I keep checking everything I say twice before saying it out loud, and end up staying silent.

5. Cool: I know I am roommmate-shy, it's OK to be like that for the first two day, so I'll just get used to things and remember that if anything I want to say does not bear to be thought about twice (that's not English, I know, but you get my meaning anyway), I'd actually better stay silent. Maybe I should do that more often even in French... And as for roommate shyness, I just now went to the kitchen to have a coffee, and my problem is nearly solved. Life's schön.

So basically : some freaky points, but the cool side is winning by far, and I can't wait to know a little more about the city and to go have one more look around this afternoon. I think maybe I'll go take a walk along the Rhein as well, though I have no idea if it's more a "take a walk along the Rhein and be a pretty princess" area or rather a "take a walk in the industrial port and get murdered" area. I'll keep you informed.

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 ?

Almost happy

I went to the movies yesterday, reader. I had a feeling I was not going to like it, but I still went, because I really like Julia Roberts, and because there's been NOTHING interesting at all to see over the last few weeks, so I was kind of desperate. So there we go, I saw Eat Pray Love. I didn't like it. It was not completely crap, I admit. Julia Roberts is a good actress, it was good quality, the music was great and all...

But sometimes I figured, oh, come on. She's got a cool husband, and a great job, she creates problems where there aren't any, and then she tells us all how to live our lives... Go pray in India, wear a perfectly folded sari, go eat pizza in Italy and gain about a pound (because, I mean, Julia Roberts? Telling us it's OK to be a little chubby and you should just enjoy life, one spaghetti at a time?)... Oh! And go fall in love with a sexy brazilian guy in Bali, people! What are you waiting for? It's not that tough! All you need is to have 50.000$ handy, don't be chicken!

Ok, I might be a little intolerant, because I know you're not always happy even though you supposedly have everything it takes. Happiness is not a recipe and stuff, the right ingredients do not always amount to a big pink happiness cake, but still. In this precise case, it was all a little bit too much.

I know it's supposed to be a true story and all, but come on. She goes to Italy (first problem THERE, mate, if you want to go eat some place, go to France, who are you kidding?). There, she meets a cool swedish girl, and her super-sexy friend, and then they have great fun, the sun shines all the time, and it's all either quaint or perfect and funny, then she goes to India, and things go great and she doesn't get stomach flu but she's invited to a wedding, and then she goes to Bali, and she meets Javier Bloody Bardem.

On that note, though, I have to say, the Brazilian accent of Javier Bardem's French voice made me shiver. Not in a good way. Everytime he appeared on screen, an alarm sounded in my head : "He's going to talk! He's going to talk! Please, make him not talk! Maybe he's got a flu today! Maybe a vesicular pharyngitis!" but he never did. I suppose he was dubbed by a real brazilian, but somehow, it sounded like he came from Marseille and had a giant tongue or something...

Anyway. I did not like it very much, though the soundtrack was really good (so many movies saved from total wreckage by their soundtracks, when you think about it...) and the actors all played well, I was really moved sometimes. Richard Jenkins was in it. I haven't seen him in many movies, but he really is a good actor. If I were to shoot my bollywood-style musical about Scottish and English victorian vampires wearing capes, he'd be in it. It's really just a matter of time, really, and of me finding Spielberg's phone number...

Basket case

Hey reader...

Well, I'm back from Belgium, where I've worked a little (not too much) and had a nice time with my sister M and my sister F whom I visited in Paris, managed not to melt completely in the process, and now I'm back in Colmar, wondering about Fate and Destiny. It's kinda nice, having time to wonder about Fate and Destiny.

I think my Fate and Destiny will be to go to Berlin next year, for a year. What do you think about that, reader? One year in Berlin... I think it's exciting. I think they have Dunkin Donuts, in Berlin...

Anyway. I was looking through my stuff the other day, and found a bunch of doodles I did while working over the last two years. Since I haven't posted anything here in a while, I figured I might as well share, and also, maybe it will reassure you as to my ability to draw. It's not always as bad as what I manage to do with Paint. Sometimes, it's worse (ha ha ha)...



















That's an owl. It's trying to keep its eyes wide open during a particularly boring speech.

That's a bunch of jellyfish. And an octopus.



That's me at different times of the day. Really cool job, this one, but a little... let's say intensive.




































That's a dragon and his big dragon buddy...

That's when life's tough

That's when it's time to go home


I have no idea what that is. It says "let's talk about shrimp". NO IDEA. No memories about it whatsoever. This is very strange.

Sadly, I lost my notepad from Copenhaguen, into which I had drawn a lot. I also complained about people dressed as yaks, the fact that no one was listening and the cold, and wrote down some of the weirdest things I heard over there. And I did hear some really really weird stuff.

If I ever find it again, I'll be sure to share what I find in it with you...

Sense and...

Well reader, there we are, I am back to France for a little while before going to Belgium on brand new adventures! Wonder what will happen when I come back from there, I tell you... I have so no plans at all, I am starting to make some to move to New Zealand and become a sheep farmer.

So, yeah. Over and done with Stuttgart, where I actually spent about three days over the two and a half months I was in Germany, since I actually lived nearer Böblingen. Still, I'll say Stuttgart, it's bigger and more well known.

I hate leaving. I hate packing, I hate saying goodbye, I know it's not very original, but it's true. I've kind of had enough saying "see you soon" to people while knowing I won't, actually. I've had enough of leaving, but I've not had enough of going places, and I still am always happy to come home, so I guess I'll have to deal with some more of that sooner or later...

Still, as you say goodbye, you like to look back on the good things that happened while you were away, so here are 5 things I loved about living in Germany over the past two and a half months.

1. My roommate. Now it would be a long post if I had to go over the details, but my roommate was great. He enlightened me about Bärchenwurst (sausage shaped as a little smiling bear. Would you agree to say it's a little wrong?), Dosenwurst (tinned sausage --very wrong, no argument there), Schweinskopfsülze (you don't even want to know), powdered little bugs swimming in vitamin-flour (still not over this one), death metal underground punk dark clubs, how to use my blinker, cinema from modern-time eastern Germany, quite a lot of music, the difference between Abend and Nacht, Nacktschnecken (a slug, in German, is actually officially called "a naked snail". Is it not great, reader?) the difference between a star and a faraway plane and many, many other things. For all this thanks, very sincerely. And if you hear me, which you don't, mach's gut. Please.

2. The cool people I met. An incredible quantity of cool people. A special mention to H. our really great "nearly-neighbour", fun and interesting and welcoming, and his friends B and G with whom I had many great evenings, to B, my roommate's best friend, who is quite simply amazing and whom I wish I had had time to know better, here's to V, also, who was very drunk and said, "I am full wie die Badewanne" the night I met him (in so many words, half English, half German. A Badewanne is a bathtub. I suspect it was close to reality). Won me over. And to R, as well, who had, weirdly, an é in his first name, and who made me feel at home even though I was not, and to all those who were patient and OK with repeating things when I had to ask them to. I appreciate it very much. Once again, thanks go to M, my roommate, for helping me meet them all.

3. Much less important, but Subway. We don't have Subways in France (at least, not in my region). We should.

4. The culture of Barbecue. How great is that? I love barbecue as it is, but in Germany, they take it to a whole new level. Marinated meat, amazing sauces, incredible amounts of so called "baguettes", salads and potatoes and potato salads and hanging around in gardens with your friends... What's not to love, I ask you? Ok, maybe smoke and bug bites and smelling like bacon for days, but even smelling like bacon for days can be seen as an advantage. Who doesn't love bacon, honestly?

5. The faraway-so close aspect of Germany. Germany's abroad, there's not denying it, however close the Alsacian culture may be to that of our neighbors to the East, and yet I feel weirdly at ease over there. Also the fact that I could go home and see my friends and my family whenever I wanted was nice. Maybe I'll go back there soon, and visit some other part of the country... More preparation for the European tests in April might still be a very good plan... I heard Hamburg was wonderful... Any advice?

What it's for, or what it's about...

I’ve been working reader! Real-working! A mission! Cool and interesting!

I met another one of those guys. Did I ever tell you about the volunteer interpreter guy from Copenhaguen? I think not. He was a volunteer interpreter. From Spain. Very tall, lean, handsome, with the whitest set of teeth and the nicest, brightest smile I’ve ever seen. Cultivated and funny, and he could play the guitar and sing. And then someone said he had trained as a doctor. I’m pretty sure the man’s hobby was saving kittens from fires. Made me want to go back to bed.
Well I met another one of those, yesterday. Same kind. Organic farmer, sporty, looked like a hippie, taller version of Edouard Baer (if you are not French, you might not know, but I do. And it’s a good thing, to look like Edouard Baer in my book). Then he said he was also into music. Then he said he had worked with orphans in the Himalayas. I hesitated, and then I grunted and decided I found them both annoying. Do you think it’s a healthy reaction?

Anyway. Over the course of the week, I found out one more thing to tell to my imaginary group of students about being an interpreter (yes. I’ve got followers in my head. They follow me around and say “yes master, you are wise”. In fact they are mostly a little group of Claires from the future, whom I tell that I am very stupid now, and they’d better improve before their turn comes. It is a little less self-important than it might seem).

Where was I? Oh yeah. One of the things I tell my imaginary group of students about being an interpreter, is that you need to be able to stand alone in the middle of a big, empty hall, and look like you’re OK with it and you belong there and you need no help at all. I believe this to be an impossible task.

This is one of the parts of my jobs that I like a little less: arriving at the venue with no idea what to do, who anybody is, where you need to go, and generally what to do with your arms, that are so bloody long, and your mouth, which you suddenly realized is a little frowny, but then you smile, and then you feel stupid, and then you bite your lips, and you look stupid and affected, and then you start frowning again. Sometimes, I try reading, but read what?

The best is when you have something related to the theme of the conference, (not a book, because you don’t want to look like you don’t care, not your vocabulary list, because you don’t want to look like you don’t already know it all by heart). Like maybe an article about the eating habits of penguins if you are going to a Linux conference. Loosely related. Knowing all the while that no one gives a damn what you read, I’m aware of that fact. But I can’t help it. And my little group of followers are still running around in my head, waiting to be impressed by my amazing skills.

In any case, followers or no, when I am sitting alone in an uncomfortable leather chair that is much too close to the ground, studying my shoes and making bets with myself on the number of places where my feet are going to hurt when I take them off tonight, I often wish I just were home. Home sounds nice, at 7.30, when you are alone and embarrassed. So here is a list of things that make me feel like home.

1. Knitwear and jam. Not both together, of course. My mother used to knit (she stopped now, somehow), and all my pullovers when I was a kid smelled like the hospital, because she had knitted them there (my mother’s a nurse). Now I’m the only person in the world who actually likes the smell of hospitals. As for jam, jam makes me feel like home for exactly the same reason. My mother makes jam. It is like a fever, a passion, an industrial endeavor, call it what you like, but it causes my home to smell like hot orange juice or strawberry very late at night. Somehow, jam only works if you make it very late at night. I keep annoying my mother about making crazy sorts of jam and letting the whole fruit in them instead of mashing them up, but the truth is, whatever the shape and form, it’s always nice to have your home smell like jam when you go to bed.
2. Talking about knitwear, that old dark blue pullover which is one of the rare items in my closet that are actually too big for me. Never felt cold in that pullover, and it probably has to do with the fact that it was worn both by my sister and my father. Who could feel cold in a pullover like this? It’s thick and itchy, and it’s got a nice, night color. It weighs about 5 kilos. It is immortal. It is the father of all pullovers. And it still looks new.

3. De Palmas’s “Marcher dans le sable.” Reminds me of when I was in high school in a weird, good old times kind of way. It’s not particularly happy, either, but somehow to me, it will always taste of summer, laughs, running around in fountains and sun.

4. The Star Wars movies. After watching them 678 times each, (probably a little more for episode 6, I guess) they still totally work. (Do I need to specify that I only like episodes 4 to 6? I hardly think I do…) I know the dialogues pretty much by heart, but only in French, because I was too young to read the subtitles when the rage was full on…

5. The Indian restaurant where I helped out when I was at the university. I still go there regularly, and even when I just think about it, it makes me feel like home. I went to a street festival the other day, and there was a stand with Indian cuisine, and it smelled like the restaurant, and I wanted to teleport. I did not, and I still had a great evening, but you get the idea.

I’m leaving Germany next week, and going back home for a while. Well, I’ll be off to Brussels soon, even though the European tests of death are postponed till April next year (Can I swear on the Internet? I believe I cannot. I shall refrain. I already said Arsch last time…), so I won’t stay home very long, but still. Bye bye Stuttgart, live long and prosper etc. Maybe I’ll tell you about homecoming, and leaving places where you settled for a while next time, if I find 5 interesting things to say!

After the storm

Reader, I've officially had enough. I'm a healthy young woman, and I've been sick for one week in a row, that just cannot be tolerated. Back pains, then a really bad cold and temperature, and today, migraines. Now I'm complaining again. Sorry. Still, I figured, while I am sick, why not let others enjoy a bit of what I learnt over my last 5 or 6 migraines. Could be helpful. Most of these 5 hints would be considered common sense by most. But, you never know. Hence: Top 5 things NOT TO DO UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES when you have a migraine, or feel a real bad one coming up.

1. Watch Eyes Wide Shut. Now I would say that one of the things NOT TO DO UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE even when healthy is watch a Stanley Kubrick movie, but I might just be mean. I never could watch any until the end, so I suppose I cannot and should not judge. Still, Eyes Wide Shut with a migraine is an even worse idea than Eyes Wide Shut when healthy, and that's saying something. I stopped understanding anything, saw black patches all over the screen, nearly threw up on my Australian cousin, who was home at the time, and then went to bed and cried myself to sleep. One very, very good night for me.

2. Go to you german sight translation course, even though you know you are the only sucker who goes there every week, and you are bound to end up alone and helpless. But I already told you about that one.

3. Pretend you're fine and go have a friendly chat in German with your roommate and his friends. Who are listening to hard style techno music. Makes your head pop. I've come back from the dead to deliver this message to you : No hard style techno music OR German conversation when you have a migraine. What happened to me is what happens to the aliens in Mars Attacks. T'was not pretty, and from above, I can see my roommate trying to scrub the remains of my brains from his scorpions' terrariums. (Sorry, gross)

4. Go for a walk because you figure maybe fresh air would help. Even though the German countryside is beautiful and the cherry trees in full bloom, it will not improve your situation, you will want the stoopid birds to shut up already, and generally hate anyone driving a car.

5. Read those Harper Connelly books by Charlaine Harris. She's the one who wrote the True Blood books, which are great and very funny. The Harper Connelly series is very good too, but much less funny, and much more Stephen King like. Absolutely gross and very dark and cruel. Bad, bad mix when your head already hurts and you just want soothing. I just want soothing, reader. However, the Charlaine Harris book has got me hooked, and I want to know the ending. Sometimes, you must suffer.

Well, here we are. Yet another self-pitying post. It's actually not so bad, and I'll be much, much better tomorrow, the situation has done nothing but improve over the last few days. I hope that you are doing good!

Life, oh life... [edit]

Well, reader, looks like I lied. I said I'd be writing here much more often now that I am in Germany, but nothing as thrilling as going to a goth club happened to me in a little while now. Here's a 5 steps update on my status, however. Because I'm sure you're dying to know.

1. I have a terrible, terrible backache going on, and I wish it would just stop already, because I'm going slowly crazy. Also, I don't know if you noticed that, but as soon as you back hurts, you want to sneeze every 5 minutes. Which only makes matters worse. Why is that, reader? Why do I have back pains NOW that the allergy season is full on? It is not nice at all.

2. My roommate M went to Switzerland yesterday to pick up the last things that were still missing in the kitchen. This means that we now have a fridge, a stove, cupboards, knives and forks and even sharp knives that you can actually use to cut onions without crying your eyes out. Ever tried to cut up an onion with a butter knife? Don't. But our new kitchen? I like it very much. Kitchens rule. I love cooking. I'll come back in a few days, and say that I don't have any ideas left, but as of right now, I love cooking and I am the stove-queen. I don't know, I seem to have something with royalty these days...

3. I have a truck-load of translations to do, which is great and will help a lot (money-wise) with my "find a dress for you brother's wedding" mission. I can't WAIT to go on THAT mission. A dress! A dress! I get to buy a dress! I love dresses! I'll try not to pick anything with tiny flowers on it. But you never know. Maybe I'll just go crazy and wear a Victorian gown and a gas-mask, like that girl I saw the other day at the gothic thingy. How about that? A Victorian gown and a gas mask... And then, once I have a dress, I'll actually go to my brother's wedding. HA HA! 5th of June! 5th of June! When will it finally be the 5th of June??

4. My room is in a terrible, terrible mess, even though I cleaned it yesterday. I don't know why this keeps happening to me, but I really, really hate it. OK today it does have a little bit to do with all the stuff my roommate brought back from Switzerland, but my "corner" of the room, with my bed in it and all, is in a terrible mess. I think some kind of evil spirit comes up in the night, while I am sleeping, kicks me in the back and messes up all my stuff. I'm pretty sure there is a Japanese ghost who does exactly that. And he's currently on vacation in Holzgerlingen. Stupid bugger.

5. I have been catching up on series the last few days. I now have seen all the latest episodes of Ashes to Ashes (not as good as it used to be, if you want my opinion), Glee (anything that sings hs got my vote) and Dr Who (I'm so glad Matt Smith is good. He really is good. He really is very very good). Series make me unreasonably happy. I still have some catching up to do on the Big Bang Theory and How I Met Your Mother, but I just can't keep up with the breaks and stuff.

Well, here we are, reader, 5 very important news-flashes about me. I hope you are doing good, and wish you sunshine.

And also :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wik2uc69WbU you can no longer live without this. Sing with us !

The Cave

Hi again, reader!

Now that I have moved to Germany, I figured I could try and start blogging a little bit more regularly. It will help with my English, hopefully, since I am speaking German so much lately. Of course, right now, I am back at my parents' place, sitting on the couch, but it won't last, I'm going back tomorrow. In any case: I will try to blog more often now that I am having adventures in a foreign country on a daily basis. First type of adventures I had last week: Spending time in gothic-dark-metal-rock-clubs in Germany.

Now if you know anything about me, (just read the previous post, for example), I am not a gothic-dark-metal-rock-club type of girl. I am a folky-pop kind of girl, and I like to drink herbal tea. I gather, also, that German gothic-dark-metal-rock-clubs are particularly... let's say... radical. I might be wrong, however, as I have no points of comparison whatever. Still, I spent some time in them last week, since it's the type of things my flat-mate M likes to do. It was really great fun, in a Discovery Channel sort of way... Here are 5 things I discovered :

1. You can be the Prince of Darkness and the King of Doom if you wish to. Just do it. It's OK, here. You are among friends. I find it pretty cool. Give me two weeks, and I'll be the Duchess of Night and the Marquise du Désespoir. It sounds so much more gothic in French, I figure...

2. If you wish to be the Prince of Darkness and the King of Doom, however, watch the DJ closely. He might choose to play little pranks on you. Like for example wait until you and your valets are very, very drunk and then play "Walking on sunshine" or even, amazingly "Ca plane pour moi", a weird Belgian hit from the late 70's, by a guy named Plastic Bertrand. (It's in French, but it's still Belgian. :D YOU GUYS NEED TO TAKE YOUR RESPONSIBILITIES). The sheer name of the singer gives you an idea of what it sounds like. It was a very... 4th dimension sort of an experience. Or rather, Close encounters of the 3rd kind, maybe.

3. You will be more noticed wearing a T-shirt and jeans than, say, a tartan skirt, a linen shirt, a jingly little ankle-chain, and a dead racoon hanging from your back. I am not kidding you about the dead racoon part. However, apparently, wearing a washed out 92 Backstreet Boys Tour t-shirt is OK too. Did I ever tell you about Colin Farrell... Crap, no. That was Boyzone....

4. If you are the Prince of Darkness and the King of Despair, you also know how to dance to the music they play in clubs like the ones I was at. I can't. I can dance on Rihanna "Pon De Replay", and I'm not even so sure about that. But: My challenge for next time around: Play "Pon De Replay" in my head, and try and dance to that, while completely ignoring Rammstein in the background. I'm pretty sure it will be a huge win for the Claire Team. I'll keep you informed. ("let the bass from the speakers run through ya sneakers, move both ya feet and run to the beat" \o/ _o_ \o/)

5. Maybe, just maybe, I'm completely losing my marbles. It is a possibility I can't ignore. I'll keep you posted on this one too, I promise.

PS: Another mission for next time: Learn how to spell Marilyn Manson before saving my beautiful Paint illustration.

I'm feeling glad

Reader, I have annoucements and news. Today : Five good news.

1. Spring's come. Definitely. All the signs are here: radish, tulips, cherry blossoms, runny nose, itchy eyes, sunshine, sunshine all around, and I'm feeling happy. I was really, really fed up with the winter and the cold and the crap weather. I had lunch with my friend V today, sitting outside in Kaysersberg, eating a salad in the sun, and I just felt happy that winter's over. (Also we went and partied all night on saturday, and went to a concert, and I had not done any of this in a long time, and that evening was just perfect. I think I really needed to go out and dance all night. I should do this more often. Anyone care to join me? Murder on the dancefloor? Dancing Queen? No? Ok then. I'll just go brush my teeth and listen to Rihanna.)

2. I've watched Dr Who, yesterday. The brand new Dr Who. The one without David Tennant. The one with Matt Smith. And it was absolutely great. Now, I'd hate to rush things, it might still go wrong, but he passed, Matt Smith did. And so did his brilliant Scottish friend Amelia Pond. Way! To! Go! I really missed the one-shot episodes (as I am not a great fan of large-scale plots. It's the same with every series. X-Files more than the others perhaps, because I really, really hate Mulder's little sister, and I wish he'd just give up on her already. Melissa! Melissa! Melissa was eaten by aliens, Fox, get over it, and back to Eugene Tooms. He scares me. He scares me everytime I go to the bathroom, and here's the catch: I've never even seen the bloody episode!)

Anyway, one-shot episodes seem to be back, and it was a really good one at that. I do hope it will go on like this, and stay that cool. He said "Carrots? Are you insane?" about three minutes in, and I was lost. Maybe the BBC can do it again! They made me love David Tennant and Christopher Eccleston, I am willing to love Matt Smith too. And all the new characters that have been added seem really cool too. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!

3. This is my 200th post. I wrote 200 of these (good news to me, not so sure about you :D). I do hope I'll reach 400 and maybe even 1000, as long as you are willing to put up with my grammar mistakes, my constant whining, and stay interested in my slug-filled adventures and detailed classification of post-2000 Hindi musicals, characters with hats, and English actors' backsides. I love blogging, I love the format and the medium, and I love comments, and I'm very, very happy I've got you, reader.

4. I'm going away again. I was born under a wandering star. Maybe. Which is going to take me as far as Stuttgart. I've been spending too much time on my parent's couch doing nothing at all. So I'll be off next week, in one last and desperate attempt to improve my German enough to claim I actually speak it.
I've found a room, a cool flat-mate, and though he also owns a pack of live scorpions, I'm pretty sure I'll feel at home real soon (provided he doesn't choose to lock me up in his basement and feed me beetles, I've only met him twice, you can never be sure). In any case, I'll be going to Stuttgart, and having brand new adventures on German-speaking land. Wish me luck. I will tell you all about it. What I won't do is crawl under my bed and indulge in my most sociophobic behaviors. No watching series all night, sleeping till noon, and hiding away as soon as someone makes a noise in the hallway! No nervous giggling and sudden, shameful silence in the middle of a sentence I am sorry I ever started. Open, sunny, easy-going Claire I'll be, and my brain will have no choice but to remember that it exists and knows better. Mark my words.

5. My brother and his fiancée S are getting married. Two months from now. 5th of June. I'm very, very happy, and I can't wait. Two months! Not even two months! Here are the details. And in my blog-roll. Weeeeeeehehehee! A wedding! Drinks all around! And then guess what? They might even stay in France! No more expat interviews! He he... Happy news \o/

There you go, reader. I have a feeling maybe part of the crap actually is melting away under my very eyes. And it makes me oh-so-happy. I hope you're happy too.

Defying gravity

Hi, reader ! I'm writing this both from my hotel room in Limoges and from my brand new eeePC, so, please forgive the typos, which can tonight be blamed both on the tiny keyboard and on the weird location (is that not a valid excuse for bad spelling ? Ah, well. Will have to do.)

I had a huge allergy problem yesterday night, asthma so bad it made my head hurt, and a terrible case of the sneezes. I learnt my lesson, and will leave my friend A's cat alone next time, even though it's cute and I compensate never having a pet of my own.

Anyway, I felt a little weird when I got up, and today, as I was on my way to my next contract (in Limoges, as I said), many weird things happened to me. I think I saw a baby elephant in a garden on the train (in a garden I saw from the train. Not a baby elephant in a garden on the train), I think I saw the blond woman from Fringe staring very hard at me from an old Renault when I was crossing the street, and I think everyone looked at me in a weird way. Also my brand new eeePC had a terrible blue-screen episode, which I hope won't happen again. I just mean to give you more explanation as to why the following post might be a little weird. Oxygen deprivation and all, I think I may be a little high.

Anyway. Today's top 5 is : "The top 5 questions about books that I asked myself on the train from Colmar" I hope you'll like it, though it is a very self-centered post. If you do not like it, I'm very sorry, I blame it on the boogie.

1. Is it true that I like books written by women more than books written by men? I always thought I did, but come to think of it, some of my favourite books and stories were written by men. Even though Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë will always be my favourite, I really love male authors too. William Goldman's The Princess Bride, Neil Gaiman in general, John Irving, Vikram Seth's A Suitable Boy and Stephen King (though I must admit I mostly only really liked Dolores Claiborne). So I don't really know anymore. And William Shakespeare, though I can't honestly claim I know anything about him. He still wrote that line in Hamlet which is so beautiful it makes me shiver.

2. Would I still love The Princess Bride as much if I read it again now ? Did I only love it that much because it was the first time I really read a book in English ? Did I only love it that much because I liked the movie ? Will I ever be brave enough to read it again to find out, or had I better just let it be, in case I do not love it as much re-reading it ?

3. Can you establish a link between a book's popularity and its quality ? I loved The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society that I just finished on the train, and it was a huge success. I really liked The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie that I read coming back from Finland, and it was a success too, I believe. I kinda like the Charlaine Harris books, and they're very popular. I like to think that when something is really, really popular, it means there is something particularly good in it. Might not be the best thing ever, and all, but I figure there is always a fair reason why people love something.

It's a comforting thought, somehow. Take Brad Pitt, for example : He's a superstar, and though you may like him or not, you can't deny that he's a really good actor. He doesn't owe it all to his good looks. (Then again, Avatar is a huge box-office success, and I think it's a really sucky movie...). My point is : Do I really have abysmal taste in literature, or is there some hope yet ?

4. How much of my liking a book is owing to the environment I'm in when reading it. I told you about reading Jane Austen in an old military club a few months back, and today I read through half of The Guernsey Literary... in the train, while being slowly steam-cooked by the SNCF's crazy heating system, and listening to some classical music on my MP3 player, so focused and so into the book I would not swear I was really conscious. Did I really like the book, or is it only the artificial, heater-and-comfy-jumper-induced fever that made me so enthralled? (How I hate that word...) Is there any way of knowing if a book is really good without reading it twice?

5. I think I should have brought The Shining with me, seing how the hotel I'm in is the perfect location to read it. Would that have been a good idea, do you think ?

Fire and snow

Well, reader, it's me again. Why, you ask ? Because, I've... got... chills, they're multyplyin', and I'm looooooooosing controwowol... No. Sorry.

Actually, it's because I've got... some serious work to do, so it's started an irresistible impulse to come over here and blog. It's pavlovian. In any case, I came over here to tell you about the top 5 things I found out hanging around in temperatures below zero over the last two months. Started in Copenhaguen, went on in Colmar, continued in Berlin, and kept on freezing in Rovaniemi, Finland (which was not so bad, even though it's in the polar circle). Did I tell you I love my job? I do. I'm not being ironic.

1. There are not many things prettier than a tree covered in snow. Not many things prettier than a quiet city street covered in snow. Not many things calmer than the sound of snow falling on snow. Not many things that look more comfy than a newly snowed layer of snow, all puffy and soft under your feet.

2. Even if you are feeling at peace with nature and romantic and ice-princess-like, it's best to resist the impulse of touching the snow, for several reasons : it turns into muck, it's wet, it's cold and it makes you trun lobster red. Also, even though everyone knows that suitable snow-shoes are for cold-footed sissies, it's best not to go out with stupid city-chick boots. Keeping your balance hurts your hips and makes you really tired, really fast. As well as look very stupid. Especially when surrounded with tough Samis who are very, very far from being cold-footed sissies.

3. Even if you are feeling at peace with nature and romantic and ice-princess like, it's best to remember that you have chapped lips, a red nose and that your hair is a mess : in a word, you look more like Rudolf the Reindeer than like the ice-princess. This, to avoid a dreadful shock the next time you encounter a mirror.

4. Forgetting your scarf in Brussels when going to the arctic circle is very, very stupid. Still, I bought a cool new scarf, soft as a feather and warm as... a scarf, which is nice. I now have two of those...

5. Danish socks and my DocMartens are all I need to be happy in the Arctic. And a crash course in deer-hunting, I guess.