P!nk Prüfungen

I hate P!nk. I hate her ruining a perfectly good exclamation mark, I hate her pretentious try-hard uplifting songs like Bridge of light and god knows what else, but mostly I hate that her music actually challenges the position of most hated song in my head (at the moment it's Miley's new one - We can't stop - please, for the love of god STOP). Seriously P!nk - stop wearing low cut clothes, you look like a man and quit it with the 'I will save you with my intensely meaningful song" music.

I hate it.

Ok now that is over I can admit that I have my first exam in German next week and am having mild-panic attacks. Mostly due to the fact that I have never had to write an exam in German - well except for the German as a foreign language tests - but this is real this time - I can't pull Puss-in-Boots eyes and pray for the best this time, plus my classmates aren't from Equador and Bora Bora this time - they're real Germs....like the ones you see in movies eating Bratwurst and wearing Lederhosen.

So my plan of attack is to learn all the material before the exam, then go talk to the Professor and tell him everything I know (and use Puss-in-Boots eyes) so that in the case that I epically mess up in the exam and freak out- he knows I know it and gives me an excellent mark anyway, and then if all else fails - I can always call him racist and run out crying. That'd also be an option....

Just kidding, actually it should be fine. I feel about ready to write an essay on it now really, I speak more German than English nowadays anyway - surely it can't be too hard to write what I say, just gotta get that  general habit of talking nonsense two-thirds of the time under control... That being said I had an exam in English the other day and realised how terrible my english has gotten after I couldn't remember the word for exclusion and wrote 'not allowed to join in' instead. I'm hoping that particular prof thinks I'm foreign too - racist...

Anyways study to do, snacks to eat.

Hope all is well.

P.S. New haircut

Just a little tip...

My housemate is a notorious note-leaver. I only have to start scaling the stairs to see the first helpful little post-it note sticking out the door, which if I were the hulk, would almost definitely make me go green with anger. Frankly I'm always surprised when I open the door to fnd that she hasn't gone on a rampage and simply post-it-noted the walls to oblivion - at least not yet...

Ohhhhh they're always such passive aggressive commands great little tips though - Giorgia it would be LOVELY if you would take out the rubbish, Giorgia it would MAKE MY DAY if you'd mop the floor, Can't WAIT for the microwave to be cleaned when I get home - p.s. Don't use the sink - YOU blocked it with YOUR scraps.

I hate notes. They make me want to passive aggressively set fire to her basil plant that sits on the kitchen table, that or sun-dry the those food scraps she hates so much on the kitchen bench...

Actually I really like both of my housemates though, they leave me alone when I need to study, eat their healthy salads whilst I sit there scoffing pasta and icecream for the fouth day running and only complain minimally when I start accidental parties...which happens more often than accidents really should.

They're clean which I am...well, ok maybe the post-it notes are warranted...but at least I am direct and tell my house mates when something is not up to my very low house-keeping standards - but these post-it notes have now started teaching me to be passive aggressive about these things. Last week I even did one of my housemate's dishes rather than ask her to clean up the mess that had been sitting in the sink for two days -

So I have begun collecting the post-it notes, sooner or later she'll run out and then she'll have no way of communicating except to speak directly to me. She'll come to my door and ask how my day was, we'll chat for a while before she gets to the real point - a complaint friendly suggestion, at which point I will look her in the eye and reply....in post-it notes.


Hope all is well.

Nickleback-itis

In the history of music, many artists have suffered from the terrible Nickleback fever - it starts with a hit and then turns into album upon album of the same song with slightly altered lyrics. Whilst others take a long time to develop the disease (take Greenday's awful new album(s) and Bon Jovi for example), some bands - the Prodigy for instance (the band that brought us hits such as firestarter and voodoo - a mixture of drug-fueled shouting and someone banging whatever instrument they find within arm's length), have seemingly been founded with the disease.

That being said, I still love Greenday and no amount of excessive German radio time for Bon Jovi is going to make them any less excellent....

This time last year I was preparing for my first festival ever. Actually, I think I was trying to sell my ticket in a facebook group to avoid having to go to my first festival ever. Funny that, becaue instead of selling the ticket, a girl by the name of Eva responded to my frantic "SOMEONE BUY MY TICKET FOR A FESTIVAL THAT STARTS IN THREE DAYS OMG OMG OMG" post with the suggestion that I go with her - a random - to a three day festival - and so I did.

I was useless at that first festival. I only brought bread, cheese and poptarts with me to eat, bought my sleeping bag on the day, forgot sunscreen, wore the ugliest clothing imaginable (not to mention that my hair was actually sticking to my face) and I did not know any one; but I did meet Pascal - who seems to be into greasy hair and snakeskin gumboots, because he gave me real food to eat and sunscreen so that I made it through that first festival alive.

My point in telling you this is not to get all lovey dovey, it's just to point out that he is a festival lifesaver - and he possibly saved two more people this year when we went to Rock im Park.

I'm not sure if Joe ever quite knew what was going on - the fact that the first question after buying a ticket to this festival was "where do we sleep?" followed by "how do we get there?" would suggest not...but I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. I certainly enjoyed the excitement on he and Basti's face at the suggestion of breakfast - as if Pascal had to offer first in order for them to be allowed to raid the groceries. Basti, a die-hard metal-head made the mistake of following Pascal and I to watch bands to "see something new," - I took him to Dizzee Rascal...He looked a little confused and a lot horrified. That, along with us never finding Joe again whenever he wandered off (until that night at the tents) and then on the last day after he'd left, finding a stockpile of his rubbish in the corner of his tent like a little magpie's nest, not to mention the fail BBQ that took at least an hour to get going (I have no Aussie BBQing prowess I'm sorry to say) made for an interesting festival. It was great though and  highly recommend Aussie's check out Volbeat, Royal Republic and Bastille...assuming they haven't made it to our little island home yet...

Well, that's it for the day. I have to study for upcoming exams.

Hope all is well.

P.S. Trying to get home next March for six weeks.