Day 13-15 Germans - so annoying. (13.09.10 - 15.09.10 and thoughts blended in that are not bound to any date)

Where should I begin. I am already sitting here for about 15 minutes not knowing how to start. What a waste of precious time I actually get to rest.

While there is always some kind of input everyday - let it only be these little impressions you get while being on the tube -I often just get home from work, have a little chat with my host for maybe 10 or 15 minutes or so, do this and that, skype home and fall asleep while watching an episode of The Sopranos. Friday is Pub day with the colleagues, and sometimes I actually manage to eat dinner. I posted a picture of every dinner I've had so far except the two times I ate fish and chips, but that's really not worth posting and I'll try to avoid that in the future as it is soggy, rather greasy and not really tasty (it's at least that way where get here). But I still need time and energy to find a good place for a take away in this area and as you get that right at he station here it's a save choice when close to starvation. So you can actually see how little I usually eat here so far (just saying, not complaining). I would LOVE to cook, but then again I find it rather difficult for one person alone and the kitchen is not too inviting. I could use it if I wanted to, but... no. And I could get TONS of microwaveable stuff, what I actually try to avoid as well. And the energy again. Can a person be too exhausted for cooking? Yes. Definitely.
My diet mainly consists of one slice of toast in the morning (which I slowly can't stand anymore - every bloody day the same sh*t. White bread, peanut butter, orange and strawberry jam as well as chocolate-hazelnut spread.), a pack of sandwiches for lunch along with a portion of fruits - mostly fruit salads (no sugar added) or grapes - some crisps and/or some kind of little sweet treat. Mostly something different everyday so I get to try new things. I theoretically COULD store something in the kitchen but the cupboards are filled with Bisto (instant sauce/spice you can get here for a variety of dishes), canned food and old shit. I COULD use the fridge but then again it's stuffed and filthy. Again, I am not complaining as I already came to terms with that, just saying how it is. I am a (paying) guest in this house, renting a room and being allowed to use the bathroom (where she is leaving her pink plastic shavers including hair everywhere). The rest is extra. If I start cleaning (really noticable - I do clean little parts every day) she'll think that I think she is messy. What she is. But I am going to stay here for 2 1/2 months still and we get along pretty good so far. But don't let me do her wrong. She DOES hoover regularly and there sometimes seems to be some chlorinated cleaner in the toilet. But still.

And why AM I taking and posting pictures of food? Who cares? I do.

Beside of the practical aspect of posting food - it actually encourages me to try eating something else each time - there is so much more about. I won't sit down now and copiously ponder about what food means to me - which would be interesting another time actually (oh I miss cooking...) - I'll just put it like this for now: Do you remember that one time in summer when you were a child you ate at you grandparents'?  See.

I had venus clams once in my life when I was ten in a restaurant in Italy and I still remember how they tasted, who was with me, how the location was and how it made me feel.
We link scents, textures and tastes (basically everything we prerceive with our senses) with memories and vice versa (nothing new, I know) so I hopefully will remember eating that delicious bowl of hoisin duck soup (lots of ginger again - yum) along wish frozen yoghurt and strawberries as dessert at itsu I had last Thursday (16.09) , the vegan falafel wrap I had at Portobello Market on Saturday (18.09) and the simmered goat I had on Sunday (19.09) when I was with Katja in Brixton again. (All this will be included in the next post.)

Now I still don't seem to have written a lot about the actual week. Well. I'll come to it.

Wednesday 15th was the complete waste of time I expected it to be. Actually - it was worse.
A few days prior I got that mail from the internship agency inviting me to a meeting with other German interns in London together with the "Germanic Society of London" or some bullshit along those lines. At first, I did not want to go at all (I'm not here for meeting even more Germans...) but then I thought I could just give it a try as there was nothing I could have lost and maybe there would have been some nice people after all I could do something with at the weekends as I don't know too many people yet yada-yada-yada. Waste of time.

South Kensington - posh.

When I saw the the bar we were supposed to meet at was located in South Kenstington I just thought "Hmmm, rather posh. But they know we are interns - we cannot afford that much.". Uh-huh. Small water: 3 Pound. Gin-Tonic: 7.30 Pounds. I even missed the place at first as that tiny little logo thay have is perfectly covered by the marquise as you get close enough to actually read it. It was dark, small and smelled like dirty dishwasher everytime they opened the door as they put us down the stairs right next to the kitchen ( their "meeting room" - according to them). When I arrived, I sceptically looked at a tall blonde girl waving at me with some kind of paper having a logo on it or something like that from the "basement". Down there were the agency's boss giving a shit about any intern, talking with members of that society who equally gave a shit, their interns and a guy having an internship in the same building. After the obligatory who I am, how my internship is, where I stay and so on, two other interns came along. Both blonde, one starting, the other finishing her internship (same company I think it was - something with fashion events). One from Austria, the other from Bavaria. Pu-LEEZ-ah.

I immediately shut myself down. All of them were giggly, moaning self-obsessed Wendys. It's actually rather difficult to explain what a Wendy is. Wendy is actually a German, horse-centred girl's magazine/comic with its main protagonist - Wendy, duh - epitomising that "Heile Welt" (ideal world) "Ponyhof" (pony stables) persona. (take a look: http://www.wendy.kessybabe.de/wendyframe.html ).

All they did was whining about how hot and crowded it is in the tube, how many people there are in London (uh-huh, you don't say...), how slutty girls dress when they go out and that they don't bother dressing up anymore as there 'is always someone dressed worse around'. "Deutsches Kälteempfinden" bla bla. They all agreed that they could not live here. Who would have seen THAT one coming...

I could. And that is pretty much all I need to say about it.

I my me mine all night. Superficial, dumb, obnoxious Wendys, hysterically laughing when realising that they all agree to everything they say. If they can't handle being here, maybe they should have settled on Dartford instead.
That guy was talking with an englishman who happened to work at the agency about German beer the whole time- not one of my favourite topics either.

I politely finished my drink and left together with too other girls from the Cologne area that turned up after a while and seemed to enjoy themselves as little as I did.

Maybe a revised version of this entry may come, who knows. I may manage to finally catch up. Who knows.