A million miles through space and time

I love my new kindle. I read more books in the last month than in any month before. This week I also found out that AO3 lets you download fanfiction in the right format for kindle. It's glorious. Not least because the Thor fandom has produced some extraordinarily well-written storie with 2o.ooo words or more.

My dreams are getting exhausting again. *le sigh* Last night I dreamt of mini!Breckin and his mini!wife on a stage (I have no idea what they did there, but I was excited to see Breckin and he was really tiny), of meeting Tine So. and janiebj in a commuter train, of my grandma having a new, fluffly dog, of my brother being stuck in another commuter train, and some more stuff I don't really remember.

My cold still isn't done with me. I woke up today and my throat hurt. I'm still going to Halle to go shopping and watch Anonymus in the cinema. It's part of my agenda to get over my aversion for Jamie Whatshisname -- the guy who's supposed to play Jace in the Mortal Instruments movie.

It's three o'clock in the morning, and for once I'm not wide awake because I couldn't stop reading something or because I couldn't fall asleep. No, this time I went to bed before midnight and was sound asleep when a really loud noise made me snap out of sleep. At first I thought it was a burglar alarm on a car, and I went to close the window. Imagine my surprise when that didn't stop the noise. My sleep-addled brain needed a few precious minutes to figure out that it was the fire alarm in my dorm ringing.

Let me tell you, I wouldn't survive an actual fire.

I went out on the floor to see if it was only my side of the building with the alarm, but the noise just grew louder, and then a girl from another floor told me I had to leave the building.

Um ... okay.

I went back to my room, still in my pajamas, and thought about what to pack in case the building burnt down.

I'm not sure that packing in case of a real fire should take so long, or that I packed the right things (my two external harddrives, my wallet, the keys, my cellphone, my iPod, my necklace with the irish cross, two earrings, the book with all the proof for my credits, one library book [wtf?] and a spare change of clothes -- but I forgot to pack the pillow my mom made me. I'm now thinking I'd really want that if all my other belongings burn.), but eventually I got out of the building.

We were a surprisingly small group of students standing around in front of the building. So, it's the term break and a lot of people (all of those who hoard my parcels among them -- I want my Richard Hammond books! Now! *shakes her fists at them*) are away, but still. I bet half of us just stayed in their rooms, but how they could do that with all the noise is beyond me. It was so freaking loud.

And because my brain was still not functioning properly due to the time, I didn't realize in due time that the cute guy I told you earlier about was also standing outside. Darn. But alas, he stood apart from the rest of us, further cementing my belief he's a bit shy. At least now I know that he actually lives on the same floor as I do. That's something, right?

And now I'm off to bed, the second try. Sleep well!

Ianto, my external harddrive doesn't work anymore. ;___; All my pictures, my stories, my university documents, my videos and my extensive music collection are on this thing. I'll lose half my memories if I can't access it anymore. I'll bring it to a store this week and see if they can do anything to at least salvage my data. At least I called my other harddrive Jack, and we all know he can't die.

And because technology wasn't done with me yet, I have all my tv channels back, but Pro7 doesn't have any sound. Yeah ... I dunno either.



But there are good news as well. I'm gonna be a godmother to my cousin's little girl. I'm totally excited and feel so honored.



PS: Oh, that's what they meant by the lj editor screws all editing once you actually have to edit something.

I'm quite obviously back from the weekend with my parents, and it was nice.

I now have more mosquito bites on my legs than fingers on my hands, and on Sunday my legs were swollen and hurt like nobody's business, but it's getting better now. And how did I get the bites, you may ask? By standing outside the church in Koserow waiting for the play "The Visit" (Der Besuch der alten Dame) by Dürrenmatt to start on Friday evening. The play itself was pretty intense and disturbing. We had seats in the first row, so seeing the actors from only a meter (if at all) away definitely added to the intensity. And I don't mean "disturbing" in the blood and gore kinda way, but that the ideas presented in the play were disturbing: The old lady offers her poor home town 1 billion if one of the town's people kills her former lover who had once made her leave the town in shame. It's a play about the alluring power of money, and how people slowly but surely fall victim to it. The really disturbing part here is that I can't find it in me to say that this would never happen in real life.

I spent nearly the whole Saturday in a Strandkorb on the beach, which was all kinds of amazing. It didn't rain for once (apparently, according to the local channels, we had more rain in July than on the average in 6 months), but it was sunny and warm. I even bought ice cream for me and my brother. I also finished rereading Sean Astin's There and back again, and I still like it quite a lot, because it just feels very honest. There are some passages in the book when I thought "Oh my ... you're an idiot and an asshole!", and he didn't try to find any excuses for his behavior because he knows it was wrong how he behaved back then. Where John Barrowman's biographies are all about TMI (one day, John, one day we'll find out how that thing in the tree worked!) and how amazing he is (and I love that about him, just so you know, John finding himself amazing is one of my favorite things in the entertainment business), Sean Astin's is all about honesty.

I'm also still lacking half of my tv channels thanks to the big thunderstorm a few weeks back, and of course my janitor can't do a thing. Why would he, right? Apparently, I'm not the only one missing ARD and quite a few other channels, and none of the people responsible for our dorm have any idea why. *le sigh* Thank goodness ARD is doing a livestream for the football match Germany vs. Brazil.

PS: leviathans_moon linked me to these pictures: here and here. I'm slightly freaked out now. Also, I'm really, really in favor of penguin world domination. Just so you know.

realizing I have to take my bike to college in the freaking rain again to spend the morning translating Old Greek, I feel like this:

Es regnet und stürmt seit fast zwei Tagen. Ich vergess langsam, wie die Sonne aussieht. Gab es sie jemals? Inziwschen unterscheide ich die Nuancen der einen großen Wolke die über uns liegt in steingrau und aschgrau und mausgrau. Und keine der Farben ist auch nur in irgendeiner Art und Weise frisch.

Heute wurde ich von furchtbar lautem Donner geweckt und habe mich tierisch erschrocken. Keine schöne Art aufzuwachen. Und es hört einfach nicht auf ...

Ich hab wieder wesentlich bessere Laune heute.

Dafür hab ich ne Lebensmittelvergiftung und den Porzellangott angebetet. Inzwischen geht's mir aber wieder einigermaßen und ich knabbere an Weißbrot. Außerdem hat mir meine Mutti am Telefon mein allerliebstes Märchen vorgelesen, "König Drosselbart". Dankeschön!

Und sie besagt, dass Pinguine die Weltherrschaft übernehmen und mir Darren Criss verspätet zum Geburtstag schenken werden dass wir unseren Uni-Abschluss nicht bekommen, weil wir mehr oder weniger wach in mehr oder weniger sinnlosen Seminaren sitzen, mehr oder weniger brilliante Hausarbeiten schreiben, mehr oder weniger professionell dämliche Gruppenmitglieder ertragen (und oh mein Gott!! Was machst du in nem Hauptseminar wenn du immer noch nicht weißt, dass man nie, nie, nie alles aufs Arbeitsblatt schreibt weil das a) Platzverschwendung ist und b) dir dann niemand mehr zuhören muss?? Und man liest auch nicht jeden ausformulierten Satz vom Blatt ab und schaut seine Zuhörer nicht an. Und man sagt auch /igzaemina(r)/ und nicht dieses Wort mit zu vielen /i/ was du die ganze Zeit verwendet hast. Und wenn ich um 8 sage, dann meine ich auch um 8, nicht halb 1o Uhr abends) oder mehr oder weniger phänomenale Klausurergebnisse haben, nein, wir bekommen unseren Uni-Abschluss nur, weil wir es schaffen, in dem ganzen Wirrwarr aus sich ständig ändernden Prüfungsordnungen, zwei Dozenten mit drei Meinungen, fies versteckten Hinweisen zu Anmeldedaten, nichts sagenden Anmeldebögen (mein Favorit: "Ich soll hier meine Teilnahme an einem Seminar zur Sozialpsychologie nachweisen -- wir haben das Fach doch gar nicht!" "Damit meinen sie Entwicklungspsychologie, schreib das hin." " o_O?!?") und Instituten so gut organisiert wie mein Krimskramsregal uns überhaupt für irgendetwas anzumelden!

Heute morgen machte mir die Bildungswissenschaftenseite Angst, weil sie aussagte, dass man sich ab dem 14. Juli 2o11 für die Staatsexamensprüfungen in Pädagogik im Sommersemester 2o12 anmelden muss. Mein Herz machte ungefähr das:



Und ja, ich habe offenbar ein Glee!gif für jede Gelegenheit. Das ist noch nen Jahr hin und ich hab noch keine Ahnung, wen ich als Prüfer will und wie das ganze überhaupt funktioniert und HOLY CRAP und überhaupt -- wieso gibt es eigentlich nicht so nen Leitfaden "Prüfungsanmeldung für Dummies"? Das wär doch der Kassenschlager. Ich also hin zur Studienberaterin für den Lehrstuhl und ich erwähne jetzt nicht, dass sie mit ihrem "Bin gleich zurück" -Zettel eigentlich "Bin in 2o Minuten zurück obwohl ich gerade Sprechstunde habe" meinte. Nach ein paar Überlegungen stellten wir schließlich fest, dass dieses Anmeldedatum nicht für mich gilt und ich für Erziehungswissenschaften schon alle erforderlichen Scheine habe. Puuh, wenigstens etwas.

Vielleicht sollte ich denen vom Prüfungsamt sagen, dass ich schon mit Herzproblemen im Krankenhaus lag, vielleicht machen sie's einem dann einfacher? 

Dear Deutsche Bahn,

you suck.

With no love,
Hope