KNITTING!

So on Friday lovely Camilla taught me to knit. First we went to the most amazing wool shop way out West. The U-Bahn stop was Guentzelstrasse, other than that I have little idea where exactly it was. But good golly, it was amazing. A lovely room with really high ceilings all full of lovely, lovely wool. So much lovely wool. And I was really quite over hung, it was so soothing. It took all my self restraint not to climb into their display wagon thing and go to sleep. Almost as soothing as that room with all the model ships in the Technik Museum. But yes, anyway, lovely Camilla sorted me out with wool and needles and then we went and sat in a cafe in F'hain and she taught me to cast on and knit. It was super exciting. Unfortunately I have decided what I want is a really big scarf made from really fine wool so it's going to take me until next Christmas to actually finish it, but still. It's very fun and satisfying, even though I have only knitted about a centimetre. But mark my words, in eighteen months or so I am going to have one freakin' cool scarf.

Other things that have made me happy this weekend:

Discovering (again thanks to Lovely Camilla, who is all kinds of awesome) Nil on Gruenberger Strasse which does these amazing chicken kebab things with peanut sauce. Heavens above.

Having a McDonalds. Yup, it was great and I don't regret eating it one bit. Sometimes (by which I mean those times you've been sicking up last night's fucking Corona ALL DAY) only McDonalds will do.

Getting an hour's extra kip last night, I don't know about you but I really, really needed that.

And, and, AND tonight I'm goingto White Trash for lots of yummy food and giggage.

Great weekend!!!

Rosie, Queen of Corona...

...I am certainly not.

So last night we all went to to Tacheles to see our friends play and deejay. Fun times were had all round, fun times and a fuckton of Corona. Dear Lord, how is it legal to make a beer that tastes just like juice? It's hardly normal. Or advisable. But when do I ever stick to what's normal or advisable? Gods, but I wish I would. I was So Sick today. Horribly, horribly so. The whole world now has permission to punch me in the face if they ever see me drinking beer at a rate of more than one an hour. Right in the face, I mean it.

And what do I have to go and do now? Yes, that's it, DRINK. Good God.

Money for nothing and chicks for free...

Ah, Brett Michaels and your Rock of Love, I salute you. The amusement I derive from watching the THIRD season of this genius programme more than compensates for the twinges of pain watching 12 women forced to "compete" for the "affection" of a "man" causes my feminist sensibilities. Not least as the third seasontakes place ON TOUR. There are two buses! One pink (for the slutty ones) and one blue (for the non-slutty ones). As far as I can ascertain, there is no difference between the sluts and the non-sluts. And oh boy oh boy are these gals crazy. One of them, "Ashley", has a naked picture of herself tatooed on her arm. HERSELF. NAKED. ON HER OWN ARM. They get drunk all of the time. And howl abuse at eachother and wear nothing but underwear. It is terrifying but also electrifying. What will they do next?

WEEKENDWEEKENDWEEKEND!

Yes, it's the weekend. Almost halfway through, in fact. Hence the hangover and the fact that I've been wearing the same Klamotten for more than twenty-four hours. I was taken to a new bar (new to me) last night. I liked it a lot. It was cheap (3.50 cocktails, G and T for 2.80) and friendly. I mean, the bar staff were appallingly slow (when oh when are they ever not in this town?) but nice with it. So yeah, Kaptain Mueller's on Simon-Dach, I salute you.

Tonight it is the turn of the Oscar Wilde's and Villa to be graced with my sometimes lovely and always entertaining (at least that's what I tell myself) presence. I can't remember why exactly we're going to the Oscar's but I'm sure it'll be a blast. It smells of home. Well, if home was a dirty, dark and frankly unhygenic toilet, but you know what I mean. Villa should also be pumpin', the Flatmate informs me. I only hope I can stay awake long enough to get there, I'm freakin' exhausted.

Must dash. Body to shower, stomach to line etc etc.

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts.

Good Lord, it is what can only be described as mothafuckin' freezing outside. I mean, I know it's not and things are only (contrary to what East 17/Labour back in its Tony-is-awesome days would have you believe) going to get much worse but STILL. However, the sudden cold snap does have its upsides.

And there is no side more up than GLUEHWEIN's side. Oh yes, mulled wine season is back, kiddies, back with a vengeance. Seriously, I can't remember drinking anything else from October to March last winter. Why the hell would you? Yummy. Fun to make, fun to heat up out of a carton, fun to share, fun to drink a whole fucking saucepan alone. Perfect accompaniment to cake, stew, spag bol, film nights, Christmas markets, nights in, nights out, Wednesdays, Mondays, dinners, lunchtimes, possibly breakfast, definitely brunch. You get the picture.

I have yet to have any yet but mark my words I shall. In fact I may just organise some kind of ceremonial gluehwein party on Saturday to officially mark the start of the season. Invitations are in the post, bring cake and joy.

Confessions of a Dangerous Mind.

So, in my first post in approximately eight years I have a few things to admit.

1) My obsession with Katy Perry's 'Waking up in Vegas' has been replaced by an overwhelming LOVE for the Black Eyed Peas 'I've Got A Feeling'. No, really. The 'Peas. I really have no justification. THE BLACK EYED PEAS, FFS. One of the lines in the song just contains the word 'mozoltov', inexplicably shouted. A word I had to Google to spell, which upset me even further as the first Google result is 'What does the word 'mozoltov' mean? I heard it in that Black Eyed Peas song'. Crikey, what have I become?

2) I have got worryingly involved in the latest MTV 'reality' show thingy, 'Scream Queens', where a bunch of hired maniacs compete for a 'starring' role in Saw VI. I haven't the strength to go in to this any further at this juncture.

3) On Saturday night I literally slept on a doormat. Albeit within an apartment building, but still. Three things you should remember to do when leaving a flat at four in the morning to go on a (frankly unnecessary) wine run 1) BRING YOUR FUCKING KEYS 2) bring enough cash to actually BUY the wine so you don't have to beg for money outside the spaeti (thank you lovely man who gave us two euros) and 3) don't live with people who SLEEP LIKE THE FREAKING DEAD. So yes, four a.m we leave the flat, nine forty-five a.m we re-enter it. I've had more fun.

4) There are six full bin bags on our balcony. SIX. I may well be the most disgusting person I know and I know someone who once used Cillit Bang as antiseptic.