Melon&Cauli.

Happy endings get me down.
Sad ones, too.
That's why I'm increasingly fond of undemanding, uncomplicated panel shows and quizzes.
No storyline, no emotions, ergo no identification or, worse, dissociation via unelegant, simple jealousy.

Or maybe I'm just totally shallow and can't be bothered.

Ponette.

If you've never seen this film, I urge you to do so. But be warned - you better have a big box of tissues ready... I double dare you not to cry for and along with that little girl. How they got four-year-old Victoire Thivisol to act like that is simply beyond me!

Do what you must do...

Long days,
even longer days ahead,
work piled so high that it seems almost useless to start at all,
a sore neck,
a twitchy eyelid,
palpitations even when lying down (especially then, really),
the head having no influence whatsoever over the body
once the body decided to be a big, fat drama queen.
And all over nothing.

So, time for bed I guess.
(And I've been meaning to watch that Doctor Who series with David Tennant anyway...)

And behold...

...they saw a bright star in the east!
Alright, so that photo doesn't look one bit impressive. But that was one bright star I saw this morning and it was in the south-east, which is roughly where Bethlehem is, right? To a tired, desperate-for-some-cheering-up mind like mine at 6a.m. that was enough of a reason to feel all christmassy and symbolic all of a sudden. (For a short while only, admittedly. Then reality kicked in.)

Thorough googling taught me, of course, that it wasn't a star at all, but none other than good old Venus bidding us a good morning. And she isn't supposed to be the star of Bethlehem, either, that's Jupiter they say. But I'm not too much bothered by facts.

Meanwhile, this morning's clear, starry sky changed its mind big time and turned my window street scene into this:


Or this, depending on the camera mode...


Thank God I don't have anything better to do than mess about with stuff like this!

Was machen wir?

Und damit wären wir mal wieder in der Saison der Durchhalteparolen angelangt.
Noch 8 Wochen bis Weihnachten! (Hm, nicht soo motivierend...)
Nur 6 unvorbereitete, Hammerdidaktik-Schulstunden bis zum langen Wochenende!
(Na, schon eher.)
Vielleicht am allerbesten was Allgemeingültiges:

Good Fridays, Bad Tuesdays.

Ah, see, I knew I was onto something by posting songs instead of everyday trivia:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, there's no news tonight, so here's some music!"
(Well, let's just pretend there wasn't - we'll all be that much happier for it.)

The soul dweller.

The way Mary Fons manages to capture those thoughts and feelings that have been lurking in the deepest corners of my soul, waiting to be set free by a spark of eloquence but in my case always - quite soberingly - stopped short by inability, never ceases to amaze me.

I love you.

The unmitigated fabulousness.

There are a number of people I have adored, revered and cyberstalked so thoroughly and intensely over the years that I feel I know them better than most of my friends and relatives. Or rather, I have that sneaking suspicion that we could really hit it off, become the best of friends if only we could meet and I on that occasion managed more than a few pathetic morsels of awestruck, simpering gibberish.
One of these people is Stephen Fry. And truly, if only! He's the most intelligent, funny, humble, heartbreakingly spot on, entertaining relater of witty anecdotes and profound insights alike I can think of anywhere. Ever. Well, he's just all round lovely and gorgeous and I wish I had a tenth of his intellect, creativity and energy. As it happens, I also think I would fit in perfectly with his circle of friends. I really wouldn't mind grabbing a bite with Emma Thompson, Hugh Laurie, Dawn French and all the rest from time to time... So if you guys read this, gimme a shout - I'll drop over for a quick lunch any day!

Mind you go easy on those mind-altering drugs, kids!

And then, out of the grey, something pops up to brighten up even your dullest, darkest day...

500 (or so) days of summer.

So you wake up on a glorious Sunday morning (well, noon rather) to sun rays warming your feet, swifts screeching, church bells ringing and as you're blinking and wiping your eyes you think: "Ah, well!"
You get up, take an iced coffee from your fridge, take a sip, open your window...
...And creepy, ugly guy across the street is watching hardcore porn again.

Ah...well.


Totally unrelated:
Why it was a wise decision to leave my bike at the institute during that thunderstorm the other day, take the tram to the station instead and not cycle through the alley and park my bike in its usual place, which is this:

Ah, summer, gotta love it!

Speaking of which... That movie... It was one of those films where I saw the trailer and fell in love with it. I was 100% sure that it was going to be one of my favourite films of all times once I'd watched it. So sure that when I happened upon the DVD in a shop the other day, I had to buy it straight away. (Yes, I'm weird that way. I am familiar with the concept of video rental, theoretically, but certain films... I need them on my shelf, available at all times. Just my rodent hoarding mentality I guess.)
So, I watched it. And it's great. No, really, it is. I love it. Will definitely watch it again. Sometime. It's everything the trailer promised. Does exactly what it says on the tin. It's just...
It is exactly like the trailer. Just longer.
And the incurable romantic inside me was shouting at the screen for a last-minute happy twist to the story... But again, that's just me being weird that way. It's the old battle between wanting to watch good films, but at the same time wanting nothing too realistic because, let's face it, I can (and do) have sordid reality right under my nose every day anyway.
The makers of the film are probably laughing their heads off right now, because it seems after all to be made exactly for people like me. Dead-on.
So I better watch it again.
Or... here's a crazy thought: join the other people out there in that...thingy...reality.

Signs.

Well, since we'll all be better off not mentioning today's football match, here's something I came across just now that I'd love to share with you:

Scary movies.

This blog post/article made me think about all the movies that, as a child, scared the living daylights out of me. And I definitely have to concur with the author that, oh yes, The NeverEnding Story and The Wizard of Oz are way up there on top of the list!

Think of the Wicked Witch of the West, her Flying Monkeys, the Swamps of Sadness, the Nothing and Gmork and I doubledare any child not to end up having nightmares. As for the truly scary, disturbing stuff, I somehow must have stumbled across this 1986 cartoon at far too young an age. I guess I thought since it was a cartoon it was children's material. Oh, how wrong! For years the words "When the wind blows" gave me the creeps and the picture of that elderly couple arm in arm in their garden is still firmly imprinted on my mind...

There are no mirrors in the Serengeti.

Billy Connolly has been one of my favourite comedians for years, so in case anyone out there still needs a pretext for a lazy evening of youtube-zapping, here's where to start:
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vItQtTZTcAk&feature=related
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Cracks me up every time...