Not that big on shopping

But sometimes a girl just gets drawn to a special piece of clothing, you know what I mean, nay?

Well, as you probably understood, this now happened to me. And I figured I'd share it with the rest of the world, somehow I'm not big on sharing, but this... it's too beautiful to keep to myself. Take a firm grip on your desk/chair/tree/whatever you find good, and look at this.

Ladies and transvestites, I give you...

Hood Thong!

How many times did you put on a thong and think "damn, why doesn't this thing have a hood on". Exactly, right? You can't even count. It's like God is a marvellous designer that sent us this gift from heaven. Thank you God.

Heartattack

This weekend was the two-year anniversary with my boyfriend, it was yesterday, and it was the greatest day ever. This, cause my boyfriend flew in from Germany to meet me this weekend. However, it wasn't only red roses and [insert clichès]. I might have been put into more stress than I can handle in one weekend. It started on Friday, listen to this.

I wake up, shower, and go down to the living-room to watch some news before getting off to work. The first thing I hear, is that it will be strike in airports, some will close. Note that Friday was the day my love was flying in. So, as you can imagine, I get kinda stressed out. My love comes visit for our two-year anniversary weekend, and strike in the world of the planes. Woho! Day can't start better, or? Work goes rather slow, and I would lie if I said that I didn't think of it every second of the day. But, good news! As I come back and watch the news, it turns out that the airport he is flying to won't feel anything from this strike, so he's coming after all, ne?

Some hours later my boyfriend is going to the train-station in Germany, to get his cute ass to Berlin and the airport. I wait for an SMS confirming that he got on the train, and everything is good. My phone beeps, and I take up the phone already smiling, cause I knew he'd be getting closer every second. But no. The train was 80 minutes late. Eighty minutes! This would result in him probably not reaching the flight, and after crying my eyes out sending smses, receiving smses, I kinda gave up... It was too good to be true after all.

An SMS ticks in, and the crows in my tummy really hurt. But it's good news. Deutsche Bahn sets up a taxi to the airport (almost 200 km), and the chance that he'll reach it is a lot bigger than 10 seconds ago. So hope comes back, and I sit darned nervous for hours, until it finally ticks in that he reached it. Needless to say, it was never better getting to see him again.

Today, about 1 hour ago, he had to get to the airport nearby, so he could get back to Germany again. My aunt drives us to the airport, and before we come on the motorway, we see that the traffic is going awfully slow. In the roundabout before entering the motorway we observe that no traffic is moving. It's still, completely still. It was no way at all that we would get anywhere. So my aunt took another way, hoping it would matter. We were already running late, and the fact that the road was kinda not functioning didn't make it better. So we had to take a detour, my aunt even called "experts" to hear where we could drive to actually reach it. At a certain point we do arrive at the airport (not exactly early, I should add). I rushed my boyfriend to the security-check and really hoped everything would be fine. Some minutes later he sends me a text-message saying that he just reached it, they were about to close the gate.

I think both of us experienced more stress this weekend, than ever. Of course I don't care now that I was closer to heartattacks than ever before, since I had one of the best weekends in my life. It was worth all the worries, and all the stress. Maybe my heart begs to differ, luckily it can't type. Thank you to my boyfriend for being the veryvery best, and thank you to whatever is sitting in heaven and pointing with fingers, for giving us luck in the bad luck.

Now I really need to relax my head. Tudelu!

On my pink cloud

Not metal, but black clouds are full of rain, and rain is shit. So I guess it will remain pink.

I did it, peeps! I fulfilled the TestDaF, I did it! And I did it with style... my own twisted one anyway. I cannot explain how good it feels now, and even though I thought I did really poopy on the oral part, I got a small comment that changed my mind.

The exam-guard, or whatever they are, started chit-chatting when I was done with the exam, and she really flattered me in so many ways. So she talked a lil about the test, that they look more if I understand things, and manage to ask questions, and form sentences, rather than picking out small mistakes, then she said out of nowhere, that "you grew up with German, right". I asked whooot, she said "your mother or father is German?". I was like nooo, and then she looked impressed, telling me that I did very good then. HELLO WORLD! A German woman thought I grew up with German around me all the time. How big is that compliment? Exactly, huge. So, see you around as soon as I landed from this cloud of mine, I'm afraid it's not that good internet connection up here!

Tudelu then!

Good mornin'

Na, up for some of my stupidity? If not, then tudelu and see you later, if, then read the following:

To understand this, you need a look at my daily routines:

6.30             waking up
7.00             walking to bus
7.15             bus leaves

Na, after being in dreamland my eyes opened at XX.56. This would give me four minutes to get ready, before walking to the bus. As you can imagine, I was rather stressed out. I'm not the person that shows up too late for work, I just aint. So, with a incredible speed, and multitasking from heaven, I was out the door by XY.02. This was good, I would reach the bus now. But when finding out the current time, I had to double-check the clock, something just wasn't right.

And it was wrong, oh, so wrong. As you probably already predicted XX and XY is not, which I would prefer it 6 and 7. Rather.. 5 and 6. Ladies and gentlemen, today I "overslept" one hour too early. In a normal (lovely) world, I would have slept for half an hour longer, but look, I even write a blog before going to work! Kudos for getting ready in 6 minutes, though? I'm the speed-queen!

Have a great day everyone! I know the people I live with got the best start ever, bet they'll laugh the whole day. Ah, I love being the spreader of joy.

Upper age-limit for owning a cell-phone?

People are weird. Just as easy as that, people are weird.

For those of you who doesn't know yet, I currently work in a call-centre for a Norwegian phone-company, one day more interesting than the next. This was the most interesting customer of the day: 

Today I got a customer who was born in the 1920ies. Yes, truth. And this woman, she spoke to some other dude before, let's call him Alexander. The five first minutes of the conversation she really wanted to speak to this Alexander, I explained her no, but she kept on asking. Eventually I got to know her problem, so that I could help her. Ready?

Alexander had promised her an easy deal, he would order the phone for her, and it would come in the mail. She's an old woman, she wants everything served on a silver plate. Nothing more complicated than that. So he got her a phone, promising it would be easy for her, and she called in again cause it turned out it wasn't easy at all. This was her problems. "I got papers in the mail, there are so many, what do I do. There are codes on them, do I need to enter the code every time I turn on the phone?". (Warning: If you don't want to see the selfish side of me, then please skip the next lines. Thank you!). I came in a position where I had  think hard, really hard, on what was easiest to explain. Was it a smart move to try to explain her that she could change the settings on her phone, so that she did no longer have to enter PIN, or would it be better if I... twisted the truth, and told her it's best that way, best with pin-codes. Her (lack of) technical abilities will shine later in this blog-post.

Problem number two "I got a small.. thing... I don't know where to put it.". This thing turned out to be a sim-card, ladies and gentlemen. Now, as I tried to go through the whole process together with her, it turns out she doesn't understand my dialect. She informs me of this first after I gave her the whole instruction. I talk slowly, and try again. But it's like she doesn't wanna understand.

I fastly find out how impossible it is to tell her how to do it. Impossible. I bet she didn't even know what's up or down on the phone, and don't even get me started on front vs back. So (without backthoughts, I promise, I promise!!) I explain her very slowly, and very clearly that she should take it to an electronic store, so they could show her.


I didn't get anywhere with this woman., to be honest. Eventually she just hung up, no matter how many times I tried to explain her (in an easy and understandable way) what to do, and how to do it. My condolences to who gets her next time. And good luck!

Upper age-limit for owning a cell-phone? Would make my job hellofalot easier, at least!

Go Lena!

My dignity might disappear now, but it can be the same.

Eurovision Song Contest is today, and I am gonna vote for Lena, who I previously also blogged about. I dig her, and I really, really hope she wins.

So.. GO LENA!

Cause it fits

It's totally like this in reality. 

http://www.thedoghousediaries.com/?p=1764