Gene Roddenberry was right!

Wormholes! They exist!
Monday morning woke me up (at half seven by the way, aaaaaaaahhthangyouverymuch) with a bright and sunny sky, the birds singing (or rather choking and puking or whatever it is that seagulls do) and the Lady and I in the mood for shopping. I left my jacket at home, because it was sooooooooooo sunny, but by the time Rach and I had met in front of the Balmoral, it started ... not exactly raining ... snowing!
So we decided to take shelter (and a coffee) in the Princes Mall, the sorry shabby shopping center next to the train station. We entered at the wrong entry and reached Costa about thirty seconds later, only to come out towards Princes Street again, where the coffe place's huge glass front revealed broad daylight and bright sunshine. Without noticing, we must have slipped into a parallel universe, somewhere along the way through Princes Mall.
So, Trekkies of all nations, genders and species, wear your supersize mustard coloured Captain James Tiberius Kirk Uniform with pride! And watch your step.






Although: I've never been a Trekkie. I always hung around in the other camp; thats why I shall continue this entry in the following way:

Weather Wars

Episode IV: A New Hope

It is winter in the galaxy. In a grim and adamant battle, the sun managed to win a first victory. Encouraged by sunny spells, the rebel vessels Rach1 and Fleck Falcon are careening through the city to savour the vital rays of sun and save them deep inside their Vitamin B ports.
Engines screech and wings are brought into sun bathing position when they reach their destination, the beach of Cramond.
On they go, onto the satellite Cramond Island. They know they might not have much time before the imperial bad weather front tracks them down to destroy their hopes.
Yet, on the way back from the satellite, voctory strikes! They take off their top layers of clothing and stop for a sunning session. Back on shore, they refuel their tanks with the season's first dairy ice cream cones.
The grey Imperial Fleet is nowhere to be seen. The sun is victorious in her fight to restore spring to the galaxy. Or so it seems.
Save for now, the two Pilotesses make their way back to the Rebel Base to celebrate their good fortune.
May the tan be with you!

Good Ones

Just to give you an insight to what usually happens Thursday fifth period, when Sharon and I have the staff base to ourselves:

What's the definition of the bravest man in the world??
The man who comes home drunk, covered in lipstick and smelling of perfume, then slaps his wife on the backside and says: "You're next, fatty".

Man walks into the bedroom with a sheep under his arm while his wife is lying in bed reading. Man says: "This is the pig I have sex with when you've got a headache." Wife replies: "I think you'll find, that is a sheep." Man replies: "I think you'll find I was talking to the sheep."

A man walks into his bedroom and sees his wife packing a suitcase. He asks, "What are you doing?" She answers, "I'm moving to Sydney. I heard prostitutes there get paid $400 for doing what I do for you for free."

Later that night, on her way out, the wife walks into the bedroom and sees her husband packing his suitcase. When she asks him where he's going, he replies, "I'm coming too I want to see how you live on $800 a year".

A woman was shopping at her local supermarket where she selected:
2 litres of low fat milk
2 litres of orange juice
A carton of eggs
A head of lettuce
Half a dozen tomatoes
A 500g jar of coffee
A 250g pack of bacon
As she was unloading her items on the conveyor belt to check out, a drunk standing behind her watched as she placed the items in front of the cashier. While the cashier was ringing up her purchases, the drunk calmly stated, "You must be single." The woman was a bit startled by this proclamation, but she was intrigued by the derelict's intuition, since she was indeed single. She looked at her six items on the belt and saw nothing particularly unusual about her selections that could have tipped off the drunk to her marital status. Curiosity getting the better of her, she said, "Well, you know what, you're absolutely correct. But how on earth did you know that?"

The Drunk replied, "Cause you're ugly."

Neandertal Newsflash

Do you know these kind of people ... massive skulls with pea-sized brains in them? I've got one of those right here, across the hall.
Everytime I think he can't possibly say anything that is more stupid or unreflected ... he does!

It all started with his tirade about how gay guys (in general) don't respect lesbians (as such) because the latter don't have proper sex (because obviously sex and penetration are the same), just all that emotional stuff and, erm, what's the word, right: foreplay.
It left me with an all time big YeahManWha'Ever on my lips and my head automatically shaking whenever he opened his mouth.

Then last week I asked him to clean the bathroom we share because he never once did it in all the time I live here. What I got was "I've never done it in the three years I live here, I'm not starting now because I don't mind it being dirty and generally speaking cleaning the bathroom (or anything for that matter, Anm.d.Red) is just something I don't do."
Right. What happened to living together with people is a commitment and it's not like cleaning is my favourite pastime but you just have to do it and all that Grown Ups Stuff?

My latest fave is him thinking the best time to wash the laundry in a building with paper thin walls is five in the morning. Guess how I found out about this newest twist of his mind...

So. Could somebody send him back to Neandertal and hit him over the head with a big heavy wooden club or a dinosaur's thigh bone? I'll pay.

Wedding is everywhere

For example just down the road from my flat, opposite the pear tree:


And right next to that:


Good to see the world is nicely balanced everywhere...
Cheerio, babes!

Things I definitely definitely WON'T miss

Numero Uno:
This horrible horrible "Sheila's Wheels" advert.
"For Ladies who insure their caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaars,
Sheila's Wheels are superstaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaars -
women make the safer drivers, we can safe a bunch of fivers -
for bonzer car insurance deeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaals
girls get on to Sheila's Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeels!"

Deine Mudder, eh; safer drivers my ass, you bitches in your horrible pink dresses with your horrible blond hairdoes trying to redo your lipstick while driving, aarrr-r-r-r-gh!!!
If ever I see Sheila on the Street I'll run her over with my truck. Twice.
And what the heck do you mean by bonzer, anyway?

Der Feiiiiiind! Mach sie tot!!!

Paranoia Galore

I know this country is over careful in dealing with its citizens' potential stupidity; browsing through the products on the supermarkets' shelves or just keepin an eye open in general, one can find plenty of evidence for that.
The authorities advise their subjects not to drink more than 3 units of alcohol (men), respectively 2 units (women) per day, to be aware of "elderly people" crossing the street, to be a considerate driver at all times and to remember that "Edinburgh is not an ashtray - stub it and bin it".
They direct the consumers attention to the fact that peanut butter contains nuts and that, aufgemerkt, milk contains milk and that, if you're not being careful, you're gonna fucking die.
After all this raising awareness frenzy, it's nice to see the authorities being reassuring at times:

Celebrated St Patrick's Day

Now all I need is a bucket of camomile tea and a nice cottage pie. ... Waiter...!!! Over an out.

Just in case you're wonderin'...

...this is where we're going in four weeks' time:

Things I am going to miss (part two)

1. TV programmes called things like "Fat Pets", "The Woman With The 1000 Organsms a Day" or "Plastic Surgery Live"


2. Sharon and her extraordinaryly delightening gossiping in the ModLan Staffbase (preferred subjec: Guidance teacher McDonald or Fattie from Downstairs:)


3. Having conversations with the Lady in fake french accent.

Psychological studies in the kitchenlab

Talking shoes today after work, Pav confirmed what we all suspected:
I have a male brain.
That's why I find pink converse with silvery bits on 'em disgusting but on the other hand am able to park a car.
(That's me in my "ugly italian guy with moustache" outfit after parking said car.)
Weell. Took the Pav a while to find THAT out, though.
Also I seem to have male hands.
The rest of me, let me assure you, is still pretty much girl.
(But, after all, I prefer my car UNparked, don't I?!)

Reality and her sledgehammer

Oh, deary me, it's starting already. Talking to Sharon I realized that ist's only two and a half months to go! When school starts again after the easter break that I'm currently planning, its gonna be a mere six weeks till unemployment and uni calling. This is all still pretty remote, though, but this afternoon, Amit told me that he is already looking for my replacement.
TERROR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So in order to prepare myself and to savour every bit of the remaining time, I herby start a new blog series to be upheld regularly forthwith.
Eheheheheeeem... I present:

Things I'm going to miss (part one):

1. the Reporting Scotland anchorman.
...dunno why. Like his voice and he reminds me of somebody. I just never figured out whom.

2. Having Arthurs Seat literately in front of my doorstep and knowing I could climb it every day for the exercise and the view. ... and never doing it.

3. Minute Maid Orange Juice.
It's just molto delicioso.

4. Dick and Dom in da Bungalooooooow!
Saturday morning kids tv show. They have games like "Make Dick Sick" or "The Baby Race" or trying to put stickers the size of caravans with their faces on it on other people's backs without them noticing. And they speak in silly voices and pull faces. Come to think about it, it's like Sprenglkiez, just without touching, in "the Queen's English" and with more kids.

5. Tesco micro wave curry.
After a day at school when you're too nackered to cook and too hungry not to, it is just unbeatable... gimme more of that shite...

6. Rugby!!
Although Scotland lost today...

...series to be continued.

Na bitte, es geht doch!

Thursday again! Which means Advanced Highers before I leave the place for my well earned weekend.
Normally I have quite a bit of trouble getting something german out of these guys. But today, the new Head teacher unknowingly helped me achieve my goal by looking through the window in the door into my classroom.
Daniel: "Look, the new Head Teacher!"
Andrew (in beautiful german): "Er ist eine Votze."
Aehhhh...jap. I asked them to bring me some STRONG alcohol next week.

Call me Slideshow Bob

Lady Galeano Gimenez and I went to Stirling (the Stirling as in Pound Stirling) the other day. It is a nice place full of history as for example the battle of Bannockburn in 1314. King Robert the Bruce, William Wallace and Rob Roy all got a connection to Stirling.
And this is Stirling Castle:

There are many rooms, a real throne reception hall thingy, plenty of cobblestones and fantastic views.

Stirling wouldn't be Stirling without the Wallace Monument, which looks like that:


And guess who THAT is:

Mel Gibson! Fredoooooooooooooooooooooom! (I especially like the surplus head next to his left foot.)

The Wallace Monument sits on a hill and up there it was quite sunny:


But also really windy - and the evening brought quite a chill.


We held out all the same and watched this lovely nature spectacle: sunset over Gargunnock and, in fact, though you might not see it, Loch Lomond:


I really am into landscapes and that, so here's another one. Note the thistle-shaped bannister:


When dusk had come, we climbed down the hill and made our way back to town, crossing this 16. Century bridge that sits on the same spot as Stirling Bridge, as in the battle of that name ... another one of those William Wallace things, dont'cher know. (Again, that's the castle up on that hill in the background.)


And by nightfall ... it had grown dark - and the night covered Stirling in a thick black velvet cold.


It had been a beautiful but long day...

March is the new April

As it was my day off yesterday and I was able to sleep in until Sankt Nimmerleinstag, of course I awoke at eight in the morning. And this is not the dizzy I'll-just-turn-around-and-start-snoring-again type of awakness, nono, we're talking about the wide awake, ready to take over the world kind of awakeness. Shit.
So I turned on the radio, just in time to hear Robin Galloway talking about "sunny spells, no snow, maximum temperatures of 5".
"Fine", I thought, "I might just as well go outside and take a walk." It was beautiful and sunny indeed, so I took the bus to go to, wossname, Craiglockhart to walk down the Water of Leith Walkway to Colinton and the proceed as far towards Balerno as I could, a stretch of the Walkway that I didn't know yet.
Of course, Murphy rides beside me, and by the time I got off the bus, it was grey and cloudy. But I didn't let that put me off walking. After about 20 Minutes, it startet to snow gently. And then a bit more.
(voll der Schnee, ey)
And the even more.
When I had reached Colinton, the little white flakes had devellopped into a fully blown blizzard.
The snow was blowing vertically into my face and every crevice of my clothing. So I decided to go back home. By bus. Which operates every half hour. Guess how long I had to wait.
When the bus finally came (and I've almost never been so thankful for one of those), Craiglockhart, along with the rest of the town, had transformed into Minsk, and meself into a living Snowman.

Now I have to tell you that people here aren't really used to snow. You get it in the Highlands, where it has been the worst winter in 40 years, but here in the Central Belt, we saw snow for about two days in December and that's it.
So people startet throwing slushballs at each other, at buses, houses, lamp posts, old women with dogs and what have you.
Luckily I was in the bus.
Or should I say unluckily...
As you know, Edinburgh is not the most ... even of towns. There is your occasional hill, mountain, ascend here and there, and while some people might consider it unpleasant to go up a steep hill on a narrow road in the bus in good weather conditions, driving to the city centre in fresh snow is downright frightening. The wheels didn't have any grip any more and we were sliding around on the street. I grew at leat 3 grey hairs, I'm sure.
People took their sleds and toboggans out to what was by then hardly an icing of snow (wahaaaa, a pun, a pun!) on Arthur's Seat. (The stuff melts pretty quickly, don'tcher know.)
The Lady was in overwhelmed excitement and kept me from cooking dinner by dragging me out in the open to get some ot the snow in me shoes.
But on the other hand, it IS beautiful in't it? Look you here:

So, that's what happens to Edinburgh when Frau Holle takes her mid-season break in Scotland.
And what do I do? What I do best. Pull a face and be amazed...

As promised:

O Flower of Scotland,
When will we see
Your like again,
That fought and died for,
Your wee bit Hill and Glen,
And stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
Tae think again.

The Hills are bare now,
And Autumn leaves
lie thick and still,
O'er land that is lost now,
Which those so dearly held,
That stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
Tae think again.

Those days are past now,
And in the past
they must remain,
But we can still rise now,
And be the nation again,
That stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
Tae think again.

0 Flower of Scotland,
When will we see
your like again,
That fought and died for,
Your wee bit Hill and Glen,
And stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
Tae think again.

Monday morning, 11 am...

Today, I took the Second Years one step further into the mysterious realm of german grammer (brrrrr). Mr Campbell had written the day's schedule on the board, referring to me as "Assistentin" (which I am).
So, later on, Haylie asked me what the word meant and I told her that, just as the word "Assistent", it means "assistant".
I asked the kids "So, why am I an "Assistentin" and not an "Assistent", what do you think?"
Whereupon Conner (my personal nightmare) fixed me and, very calmly, replied:

"Because you don't have a penis."

Haylie began to scream histerically and asked me wether she should slap Connor for me.
Of course I told her she couldn't, as he was absolutely correct.

I love kids...

Hadden's Heroes send England home tae think again

Oh Flower of Scooootlaaaaand...
...die Buzze is voll, Murrayfield Stadium is almost completely sold out, there's only two empty seats in the house and they are in front of me. Suits me magnificently. What a fine day for rugby! It is freezing, the wind rattles in the gates and, actually, in our faces and the rain drizzles down ever so slightly and ever so incessantly.
I just wonder who let all those ... english people in here...disgusting!
When the teams enter we let the guys in white and red know they're not the All Blacks, don't get too comfortable, this will not be a walk in the park, we're gonna put up a hell of a fight. The battle of Bannochburn is shortly reinacted on the pitch for that purpose, battledrums, speers, torches and all.

After that, we let them sing their song about their queen. Then, a second of silence, before the 100 or so bagpipers give'em a taste of their lungs, the Higland Clan Battledrummerboys and girls screem along as 30 015 people (half of the spectators + 15 players on the pitch) stretch their vocal chords for the Flower of Scotland. With the last word the gun is fired and, BANG, here we go again.
(die Wumme)

It has to be said that as a Scotland supporter, the belief in your team and the willingness to scream your lungs out for them is often the one thing you can cling to, especially when these folks from south of the border are at Murrayfield.
But three minutes into the game, there is a defening uproar, as Scotland TAKE THE LEAD!!!!
And they were determined to not give it away too easily. By half time whistle, 40 minutes later, the score is an amazing

The break gives us time to gather our strenght and give our voices a little rest. Meaning singing "Flower of Scotland" kind of quietly this time, as you can see here:

During the second half, there's more strain to be put on the voicebox, so that after another 20 minutes or so, I finally get from shouting things like "Comeooooooooon!!!!!", "Gie'magoodoooooone!!!!" or "Downwi'em!!!!!" to a mere "Hsaaaaaaaaaaadf -rgh!!!!!". The Lady next to me kept on shouting "Stop'emstp'emstop'emstop'em", and the boy in the seat in front of her seemed to be kind of concerned about that. In return, he stuck his giant blue wave-finger-what-do-you-call-those-thingys in my face a couple of times.
Much of the game took place only half a yard away from both of the try lines, but none of the teams actually GOT to try. There were a few more penalties throughout the match though, so that at full time, Scotland had actually beaten England

FRAKING OUT GALORE!!!! (on both sides of the Tweed, I guess)
The English were gutted, having been sure of a victory, as can be seen in this picture:

HAHAAAA!!!IN YER FACE!!!
Now, let us put this in historic perspective;
The last time that Scotland beat England in a Rugby match was in 1999. The last time before THAT was in 1990. So, it doesn't happen all too often, to put it that way, that's why the whole city (and, thinking of it, probably the whole COUNTRY including every single island) went celebrating in the pubs. You actually had to queue to get into the Last Drop and the likes, so we went celebrating with chips from the chippie and Whisky from Tattie's Cupboard.
For the next match, I am determined to stock up on the three lines of "Flower of Scotland" I know by heart, ("Oh, Flower of Scotland, ...something something something something about fighting and King Edward, something, ...and sent them home, tae think again" Ende.) and as I am a teacher and you're not (at least most of you), I'll put it on the blog for you to learn, too.
Das wird dann aber auch abgefragt!
Hefte raus, Klassenarbeit!

Police called after pupils go on strike over uniform crackdown

GARETH ROSE

POLICE were called to a city high school after pupils staged a walkout in protest at a crackdown on uniform.

About 100 youngsters, aged from 11 to 14, wore casual clothes to Craigmount High School on Friday, flouting an instruction to adhere to school dress codes.

An undisclosed number refused to go back to class after the morning break after they were given a dressing down. Police were called as the demo threatened to get out of hand.

The stunt had been organised via e-mail the previous day, in response to a letter sent home by headteacher Dr John Campbell asking parents to make sure pupils obeyed the dress code.

Children at Craigmount, in Corstorphine, may wear a white or blue polo shirt, or the more formal white or black shirt with the school tie. They must, however, wear black trousers.

Dr Campbell is understood to have warned youngsters who failed to do so that a letter would be sent to their parents.

This prompted an angry stand-off between pupils and staff on Friday, just hours before the school broke up for the half-term holiday. Most of the children were coaxed back into class, but a minority did not return.

Education chiefs say their parents have been contacted and the pupils face possible disciplinary action on their return next week.

Dr Campbell attempted to capture the youngsters on film, so the protestors and their actions would be on record when the time came to dish out punishments - but his video camera did not work. However, the pupils were caught on CCTV and may face disciplinary action on their return next week.

One parent claimed the children had been spurred into action by the "heavy-handed" approach taken by Dr Campbell.

She said: "The new headmaster wants them all to wear school uniform at all times. The kids got together and decided they would have a day of protest and most of them wore jeans on Friday.

"All the kids got letters home to give their parents and this sparked a riot. They were all outside, rampaging along Craigs Road.

"Dr Campbell has just come in and laid down the law without any consultation with staff or pupils. I don't like the fact that the kids were rampaging about, but he has brought it on himself."

Another parent added: "My son said there had practically been a riot at the school. Some pupils seem determined to resist."

A council spokeswoman said: "A small number of pupils left early on Friday without permission. Appropriate action will be taken against them upon their return from the February break."

The council has denied reports that children were shouting and climbing fences and that some pupils were knocked down in the rush to leave the school.

A police spokeswoman said: "Community officers were called to the school. However, there were no signs of a disturbance."

Craigmount High School has had a school uniform since 1999, and pupils have had a say in the colours used.

Education chiefs believe uniforms improve behaviour and attainment, and have urged schools and pupils to improve take up to the point that almost all schools in the city now have at least a dress code and in many cases a full school uniform.

The pupils have been backed by the Scottish Parent Teacher Council (SPTC).

Judith Gillespie, development manager of the Scottish Parent Teacher Council, said: "There's no evidence to suggest that everyone wearing the same clothes to school makes a difference to attainment.

"Threatening to report the children back to their parents is an insult to their independence."

(THE SCOTSMAN EVENING NEWS, 14.02.2006) (ZITAT ENDE)

Tja, Leude, so sieht das aus, wo ich so unterrichte.
ROCK AND ROLL HIGHSCHOOL GALORE!!
Da bereut man es fast, freitags frei zu haben. Aber nur fast.

Wat man so alle in der Post kricht!

Ladies and Gentlemen, Lords and Ladies!
Schaut her!
Die Dame, die mich schon im zarten Alter von 16 auf ihrem tuerkis farbenen Roller (Motor-) durch die westbadische Landschaft geheizt hat,
die mir den Beinamen Tequila brachte (don't ask!),
mit der ich unzaehlige Schlachten gegen Horden von Orks, machteifernede Magier und wahnsinnige Passionen kaempfte (again, don't ask),
die ich einst verlor und wiederfand,
diese Dame also...
...traegt jetzt einen fetten Brilli an ihrem Ringfinger! (Zumindest idealerweise, wa, Christian?!)
WOW! HAMMER!
Liebste Jenny, Niniel, Sunrise;
Der Umtrunk, den wir haben werden, der wird sich aber gewaschen haben, das kannste glauben. Kommt mich doch ma besuchen, fuer Gelage ist das hier aber sowas von der richtige Ort.
Ansonsten warte ich gespannt auf die naechste Karte...
Ich wuensch euch alles Liebe und ich glaub, ich ruf gleich ma an.

Die Revue passiert

Oh, Man,
this last week flew by so quickly. I had just stopped minding having to put up with no more than 40 cm of mattress space, and now -WHAM!- I'm alone again. Well, not quite; telly's in the kitchen, the laptop is here and Katie Melua is singing something strange about blue shoes (?).
My nose is red, so are my eyes, I can't breathe properly and I have a V-shaped bit of inflamed skin just between my nostrils. I already used tons of tissues and, quite honestly, I will be running out of them this very evening but I don't see me walking up all the 200 yards to LIDL to get more of them in time like.
I feel miserable. And I've got a cold, too. But also I miss the sonoric voice of Jo ... telling me to switch off the TV and wash the dishes. Also he took my last package of tissues. Or did I take his...??? Dunno.
We did a lot of nice things during this past week, some of which are none of your bloody business, but some others of which I'd love to share with you.

Unfortunately, our little trip to the Highlands didn't happen due to certain circumstances, but I still managed to take the Man to Loch Lomond ("You take the high road and I take the low road and I'll be in Scotland afooooore ye..."eherm. Sorry.)
We found
a castle (with lavatory)
whisky coloured water
picnic benches
a rope attached to a tree
the snow covered Highlands in the distanceaaahwhataview
all kinds of fat water birds

Armed with our cameras the value of a small car as we were, we took tons of pictures. For most of them you'll have to harass Jo, but these are Matilda's words as to what Loch Lomond is like:

(If you click on the pic, you can actually see things.)

On our way we stopped in Glasgow to chase a hat (by the way: I found mine, baby, it was in my desk thingy the whole time!), the results of which can be seen on photos that Jo took, and we didn't actually meet Jamie that day, but this is what HE looks like:



We also went to Craigmillar Castle, but it was closed. And, oh, by the way, I am now an official Friend of Historic Scotland!!, which means that I have free admission to sites like Edinburgh Caslte, Craigmillar Castle, Urquahuahard Caslte on the shore of Loch Ness, a bunch of standing stones on some island or other and loads of other things, because I am a ... (Trommelwirbel, bitte) ... MEMBER!! I am currently waiting for the sticker and the badge.
One other major attraction was Asda at the Jewel, where you can buy things, and a couple of "Accessorize"s, "Next"s, "Topshop"s and the like, where you absolutely can't.

And tomorrow...
it's back to school, where I will blow me nose some more.
Goodnight.

That's a keeper

Conversation between Ian MillerHeadOfDepartment and Lorna Hughes, Lecturer in Recent German, shortly before the end of lunchbreak:

Lorna: "Oh, no. I've got this bunch of nutters now..."
Ian: "Which one? There's so many of those."

and a little later, talking about some behaviourly channlenged pupil with motivation issues and poor social skills:

Ian: "Oh, I want to take a pair of candles, shove them up her bloody nostrils and SET THEM ON FIRE!"

Dear Ian and Lorna, I will keep these words of yours in my heart for evermore.

This one goes out to...

...Ferdi and footie, as a healing charm from the land of druids and strong, strong liquor (Barrels of it. Of both of it.).
Slainte!

For Hobbes

who is in lovable psycho cat heaven, where there are nothing but cosy little spots above eye-level and plastic straws to play with all day...

Thursday morning, 10 am...

...and the guy with the hat strikes again.
I was entering school and once in the building turning right towards the concourse, when out of the janitors' wee box someone was shouting "Heeeey!!". "Not again", I thought and turned back to inquire as to the motivation of the shouter. When I faced the janitor he said "Oh, sorry, I thought you were a student." "Never mind", I said, "it happened before."
I don't know how, but apparently, my backside looks ten years younger then my face. Mh. Well...I guess in another twenty years, me and my toyboy will be drinking to that.
Cheers!

The Royal extra terrestrian alien freaks

On the corner of Nicholson Street and West Richmond Street, just a couple of metres from me hoos and opposite LIDL, there is a branch of the Royal Mail (not to be mixed up with the Royal Mile, which is something completely different, but try explaining that to an Aussie!). In this post office, two guys are working. It's always the same two guys, they must be there 24/7 and probably the two massive shelves of envelopes, thick brown tape, rubber bands (assorted) and childrens scissors really are some kind of fold down beds, so they never leave the place.
Everytime I have to post something, I encounter the two of them. I can't really tell them apart, they're actually quite the same. They look like some Indian underground chainsmoking baked potatoes in beige shirts (ALWAYS beige shirts!!) and knitted waistcoats. Everything about them just melts together, colourwise, like some huge pot of custard that has been left out in the sun.

So when I go there and say:
"I've got a letter here to Edinburgh." (Meaning: just sell me a 42p stamp and let me get on with my life.),
they will always say something like:
"Husssnuwidfasshnu".
"Beg pardon?!"
"Hasfdeehhussim!"
"Whaa? Oh, yes , to Edinburgh."
"Menehessefdrrrrr."
"You shut your trap about my mother!"
"Hassne messsfll brrps. ... S!"
"Oh, yes, the scale, here, I put it on it, don't brain fizzzz me, please."
"Abademsiddfl."
"Hm??"
"Haaaa-asufel*$^"
"Oh, yes, 42p, there you go, keep the change."

I am convinced that these two are some kind of alien brothers from planet Zorrk, sent to earth to spy on our ... postal system?? Really I don't know what the Spaceman Spiff they hope to achieve by sitting in a stuffy little post office all the time, but if I knew, they probably would have brain fried me anyway. Or I found out already and they just had the relevant part of my brain removed surgically in one of their ships orbiting Earth so I wouldn't tell the Earth Government about their plans. Well. I like my brain, so I won't investigate any further. Just so you know: if you never receive any letters from me, it's not because I don't write any; it's because they probably dyed them beige and ate them.

Breaking News - bulletin

Gotcha!

With the start of the Six Nations Cup, Murrayfield Stadium was sizzling again with a screaming crowd. Scotland enters this competition as an absolute underdog and yesterday, they warmly welcomed one of the best teams of Europe, France.
The Scots weren't expected to stand much of a chance against such a team, as up until the change of Manager a couple of monthes ago, they performed rather poorly recently, BUT: DAMMIT, THEY KICKED ASS!!!!!!
We (!) took the lead only a couple of minutes into the game and two minutes before the half time whistle, the score was Scooooootland: 20 - france: zilch! (vielzuvielscheissverein!)
The French (or Froggies as we lovingly call them) came on violently during the second half, but Scotland didn't give in to even the most ambitious attack. In the end, Scotland had scored 20 points, France 16. WHAT A GAME, MAN!!

My personal Man of the Match: Sean Lamont (right). What a dude! He can only be described with an astonished adoring: geil!

Zur Feier des Tages ging ich heute zu H&M und verprasste £ 54,94, hae-hae!

To the Misty Mountains!

The one thing I regret about living in an place like Berlin is not being able to escape to the woods every once in a while. I mean, technically it's possible; I myself attempted to explore Tegeler Wald a couple of times, being bored of know-every-corner-of-it-Victoriapark or Same Old Trep everytime, but it takes about half a day to get there so that when you arrive you can almost be sure of the sun being gone.
So today, as the bright blue sky reminded me of Damien's words ("saer is a woode in Costorfiinoe. It's wreali bjutifulloe..."), I decided to take Mathilda on a little trip towards the western edge of town. There was the sweet scent of spring in the air, the birds were singing and the sun shone brightly on my face as I was sitting in the bus.
I got off at the zoo and had my ten minutes of exercise while walking up Costorphine Hill towards the woods. I entered the shadow of the trees and followed a well trodden path, past saturday doggie walkers and saturday kiddie walkers. After a couple of hundred metres I came around a bend in the path and saw before me the most phantastic view of the town. To my left there was the hill but to my right there was a steep slope and only a few trees, so that they gave way to overlook silverknowes and, in the distance, the castle, sitting majestically on its hill.
I continued and after a little while noticed a kind of tower or steeple on the hill to my left. The Indiana Jones part of me awoke, I left the main path and went exploring.
Uphill I found what was indeed a tower, sitting on the very summit of Costorphine Hill, surrounded by trees and illuminated by the golden sunlight.

Not far off there were the ruins of some building, but nothing much was left of it, so I cannae really tell what it once was, but this is what it lookes like:

I pondered in the sun for a while and had a closer look at both the tower and the ruined bit.
When I moved on I did't return to the main path but took one of the smaller ones, leading into the woods. I passed many a decaying bit of masonery on my way, the remainders of walls and steps of stone, leading nowhere.

The forest seemed enchanted, with green trees everywhere despite the time of year and myriads of Ivy leaves covering dead trees. The sun shone through the roof of the trees and made everything look so beautiful.

Now had I been an old toothless Scotswoman, I might be able to tell you the stories of the fayries living in these woods, scaring off anyone who wanders astray, keeping the outside world off their premises.
I am not a toothless ols Scotswoman, but I can assure you, the fayries are real!
When I was walking amidst the trees, I could hear them rustling in the undergrowth and whispering to each other, though I couldn't understand what they were saying. But I know for a fact that when they saw me walking all too confidently through their realm, they made the stones move, so that I fell flat on my sun warmed backside.
I took that as a warning and tried to find my way back to the main path. When I had climbed yet another summit, I could see the top of a hill in the distance, overgrown with trees and emerging from the mist like an island out of the see. For a split second I swear I could hear someone say "Avalon!".
I was amazed at the beauty of this place but well aware of its dangers. That and the fact that I was growing hungry made me climb downhill, until I could hear the noise of Queensferry Road not far off. I followed the sound, stepped out fom under the trees and Edinburgh had me back.