I had my little revenge for destroying my clip tuner. He was not amused. I know I should not be vindictive, but – ah, screw it, I was being vindictive and I like it.

(´∀｀)♡

Rembetika

Ave you beautiful people,

the Christmas concert is over and I’m slowly returning to ordinary craziness mode. I didn’t feel very well the night before the concert; I was actually convinced about the fact that I infected myself with a rare form of Nigerian Swamp Fever, which would make me eventually die on stage.

When I got up the next morning there was a quite nice surprise waiting for me in the living room.

Yes, dog, a clip tuner is a nice toy. Your behaviour is bad, and you should feel bad! This almost caused me a serious heart attack, it felt so much like a bad omen. But luckily it was not. My friend Thomas picked me up at home and we met my family in the train. We were a bit too early, so I still had time for an anti stage fright cocoa. Later the Captain joined, and – to my great surprise – my cousin as well. He promised me that he would throw support stockings to express his great enthusiasm for my brilliant performance.

My brother joined the cocoa feast. We are way too much alike. My mother is highly concerned about this.

The stage. My biggest concern was that I wouldn’t get on it. The stairs seem to lead directly to inferno.

I played two songs: The real chart-stormer from 1816 Study in G composed by Ferdinando Carulli, and The First Noel together with my guitar teacher (she played the chords).

A pure overdose of harmony.

The best friend one can possibly have. And no, nobody got friendzoned here, he is a family father.

To sum it up: None of the disaster scenarios my scumbag brain created happened and I personally got rewarded for my tenacity. Now I’m preparing myself for the Spring concert and I already now that I will drive myself crazy again. I demand high standards out of myself and easily push me to the edge of reason. That’s fine. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose, but at the end of the day I unlock all the Fuck Yeah Achievements I’m aiming for.
And I do not regret it.

Am. G. Em. Da capo.

Ave you beautiful people!

The last few weeks had been a difficult experience for me and my nerves. The Christmas concert jumpiness has reached a critical level far beyond 9000; fueled by the rage flames of not having a proper guitar on which you can actually play on and not just mauling your fingers into pieces.

But now those rage flames have gone out and made space for a dark, apocalyptical triumph.

I had to wait a long time till I could finally embrace my baby. Had to summon a tiny bit of YOLO, loads of FISH (*) and a grain of criminal energy first to get access to my inner Vic Mackey spirit.

Her sound is just so beautiful… Haven’t been so much in love since ages. I think I’ll name her Shepard.
Oh, there’s a That Guy update by the way:

I went to that store where he works to buy coffee and toilet paper but since he was at the check out I passed on the latter (I wanted to pay my family a visit anyway, always a good opportunity to refill those trivial everyday objects…)

So I stood there, waiting, then he noticed me and gave me that smirk, that activated my minx modus…

And even better – my coffee and I were the last customers. It was clearly a sign. Master Cthulhu lead me into that situation, so he could finally ask me out. Or I would ask him out. Hell, yeah, I restarted playing guitar on a darn f*cking broken instrument, so I could also open my own path into the Garden of Delight.

Well, what shall I say, I guess Master Cthulhu mislead me. He was about to say something, I was about to say something, when an elderly Lady suddenly came to the checkout to ask some very, very significant question. She pushed me away with her cane, giving me a glare that told me she knew that something lecherous was going on.

I felt completely caught in the act, like eating the Forbidden Fruit or like my dog when he tried to bang the dog draught excluder.

I didn’t dare to revolt in this situation, since she clearly survived the Thirty Years’ War and the sweet Lord Cthulhu knows what else.

But I’ll be back. I’m so into that guy that I will mobilize all that unholy, dark, abysmal Vic Mackey shit. Da capo, mazzafakkas.

Da capo.

(* FISH = Fuck It Shit Happens)

Remember, Remember

I am back from London. Shattered but okay.

We were in that crowd. Somewhere. And later that happened:

What a memorable day.

Procul o procul este profani!

Ave you beautiful people!

It’s been a while because I was dragged to R’lyeh and held kept as housewife for Cthulhu. That’s the only lucid explanation I have, the real story is far more disturbing and I honestly don’t want to talk about it again.

It was just slightly amazing when I was diving through all my unread e-mails telling me that I wouldn’t answer the phone.

How am I supposed to answer the phone when I am not even close to it? What do you fuckers think? That I am sitting at home waiting for trhe phone to ring so I can ignore it? I know some dipshits, it never cease to amaze me!

Anyways, I am really pleased with how everything goes. I will be a part of my music schools Christmas concert in December and play a piece from Ferdinando Carulli on my brand new Yamaha C40M (it’s a “beginners” model, but the sound is fantastic), met some great people and their dogs (it’s a pleasure to spend time with them), and had a great time with the girls in Rome (“That would be far more interesting if Ezio was climbing up that building…”)

Back from the abyss, looking marvellous, ha, fuck you, motherfuckers!

And between all these things I have some That Guy issues. That Guy… that actually means there is someone I have a huge crush on (and vice versa), but unfortunately he works in a store close by, so my windage is limited to the checkout.

Which also means that danger is all around me, when I do my errands there.

I have to avoid all lady bits errands – it disturbs me that he could actually have a detailed picture of my vagina in his head judged by the tampons I buy.

Unfortunately this guy lowers my conversation skills to caveman mode – a dagger thrust for that little glimpse of hope I dare to have when it’s about getting to know him.

My friend Jessica noticed my affection when we bought special offer vino in said store when I was moaning about the fact that reincarnating as a mermaid would be my worst nightmare. That Guy was there, he was smiling like an idiot, I was smiling like a retarded chicken.

She cannot understand my hesitation when it comes about hitting on him (because I could buy my sanitary protection somewhere else, I guess) Let me tell you: It ain’t easy when your vocabulary is limited to “Have a nice day!” and “Receipt please!”

Last time I saw him I had my little bro (10) with me, who was babbling without any breaks. That Guy was laughing about our conversation and flirted with me in a delicate way. My brother later told me, that That Guy has an enormous crush on me, he could tell because he noticed that special look.

He also said that I would not have any chance with That Guy because he is way younger than me (I am 29 and he is about 25…)

“You are too old!”, he said with a darkly triumphant.

“I look way younger than I am!”, I replied and asked his friend Big D (10) how old he thinks I am.

Big D was looking at me in a very serious way and than he replied: “Hmmmm…. Don’t know, maybe 34?!?!?!?!”

After my friends keep annoying me and even my brother’s friends started trolling me I pulled myself together and manned up and went there to get the facts straights. I told myself that I am a wild boar, that I am unstoppable, a titan, a raging wild boar titan.

I went out with a bag of cough candy.

I have not seen him since ages. The lesson I learnt is that hesitation is a bitch. Even if you just want to buy sanitary pads.

At least I am back to sit at home ignoring phone calls from people who can kiss my ass.

That totally frees my mind right now

Crush my heart into embers

Ave everyone,

So it has come to this. After I had successfully avoided everything London related (ex-boyfriend issues) in the past few months I started playing Mass Effect 3 and oh the surprise…

The last battle takes place in the shades of Big Ben, yay, oh yay! Add salt to my wounds, you stupid fags!

So basically every fucking Reaper that came into my way had the face of my stupid ex-boyfriend. The result? Headshot combobreaker.

But she… oh she…

Commander Shepard makes me seriously question my sexuality.

And this is basically an announcement for the next deep and ambitious entry Fifty Shades of WTF?! coming as soon as my blood pressure is back to normal and the galaxy safe from harm.

Between the dying and me

Hail to you beautiful people!

I have been flowing within a wonderful current until my arm start aching again.
Medical outcome: Tendinitis / Carpal Tunnel Syndrom

A G A I N ! !

It’s the third time this year that I am suffering from that shit! I can neither play guitar right now, nor gaming, nor working on my novel, nor going to the gym, nor whatsoever I do in my free time (not to mention my military career).

My doctor mentioned that I might have a chronic problem here – on the left arm. I am f*cking right-handed. So why does this bullsh*t always hit me on the left?

You can imagine that my mood is below America on a scale between Zero to Ten. My friend Jessica dared to surprise me with this:

“Alduin” Plaster! Yay! That honestly made my day!

But nonetheless it seems that I have to be operated on my wrist. Double yay. I could live without it.
But at least I have a nice royal blue bandage this time.