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♥ all the things that happen when you least expect them ♥ not having any cash & still getting by, it’s refreshing to go out with only five cents in my pocket & still have a good time ♥ leaving a lame party & sit in the back of a Spätkauf instead, drinking beer & talking about the most random things ♥ ordering my food online & allowing myself to indulge in fast food every other week ♥ meeting new, interesting people ♥ playing all my old, much-loved DOS games in Boxer – this was one of my childhood favourites ♥ the first snow, even though it means it’s fucking freezing outside & I don’t want to leave the house ♥ making memes and rage comics about situations in our flat ♥ my flatmate putting the “Let the garbage Jenga begin!” one up on the wall above our impressive garbage bag collection ♥ catching up on the latest episodes of Fringe & I don’t even know why ♥ finally having a washing machine in the flat ♥ dressing up ♥ Plants vs. Zombies ♥ very slowly making bigger future plans ♥ massive Sunday brunch at a nice restaurant with lovely people, followed by a walk through the snowy city, a short flea market visit and hot chocolate ♥ this web comic, I’m not gonna lie, it freaks me out every time ♥ sleepyti.me – it works, I swear! ♥ typography ♥ planning my next tattoo (standard!), collecting images & notes and taking them to my artist soon ♥ being ridiculously boring without feeling too guilty, lame and old ♥ messy weekends and productive weeks ♥ feeling alright and getting by ♥

Sorry for the lack of updates, I just don’t know what to write about.

Finally got more photos developed – some from this year and last year with mainly the same people in them.

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Fashion Week is over and I’m exhausted. And I don’t even care too much about fashion. The thing is, like everyone else I would always dress somehow, buy things I like and save up to buy even more things I like, but I never cared about the industry at all. I don’t find designers or models particularly glamorous, I never actively cared about trends, fabrics or even quality as I would just naturally go for the cheapest. It has changed a slight bit over the years and that’s clearly something Berlin, growing up and the internet did for me.

After doing the whole round of trade fair madness for the past couple of days, the party atmosphere at Bread & Butter and a more professional vibe at Premium, I made my way down to Toast & Jam on Thursday which had a pretty successful first day, too. Of course I didn’t say no to helping a little with the catwalk show and I always love a bit of stress, so I ended up helping my beautiful model into her vintage secretary outfit within split seconds, only to help her undress again and zip up her original 1950′s dress. It went surprisingly well, considering I normally barely manage to even dress myself. The rest of the time I spent working, looking at clothes and going out.

From a professional point of view, there’s clearly something about it. The rest is overshadowed by the idea of a fake exclusiveness, everyone trying their best to represent this big industry of the rich and beautiful by throwing free cocktails around, goodie bags, shows, music, bigger, better, brighter.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s fun and I’m grateful, but unimpressed.

I think the true reason we’re so indifferent is that we still wonder how to fit into that whole thing. We grew up learning that consumerism is boring and superficial, we used to be poor students, now we have jobs and we still can’t decide where we belong. We’re downing bottles of Sternburg on the streets and drinking free cocktails with a view over the nightly Berlin, surrounded by Italian fashion people in suits. We’re not hip, we’re not glamorous and decadence doesn’t suit us very well, neither does a plain working life. We’re part of something and part of nothing and as long as it’s fun, I don’t even care.

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A quick life update, and again, I’m in bed. A few days ago my right ear stopped working properly and it turned out there’s fluid behind my eardrum and I will have to have it cut open in a minor operation to be able to hear properly again. Being German I shouldn’t complain about the healthcare system but finding a doctor was kind of a nightmare, having my insurance cover the whole thing another one and besides the fact I can’t work and concentrate and now have a shitload of work to catch up with, I am on antibiotics, drowsy, nauseous and just generally annoyed. The other day I was joking about it being yet another cheesy life lesson, something like “Don’t ever take your senses for granted.” and to whoever thought I had to learn this lesson, trust me, I have.

In other news, Fashion Week is coming up again next week, and even though I don’t care too much about the actual fashion or the runway shows, I guess it should be fun. Ridiculously overdressed people all over the city, desperately hoping to get their photo taken by as many street style blogs as possible, people fighting over dead-ugly brand tote bags at Bread & Butter and the like, free food and drinks everywhere, random events, fairs and parties… And a nice change of scenery and routines for me, especially after a weekend like this one which I’m going to spend at home with the company of nose spray, antibiotics and my bed.

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It’s a Sunday night and I’m sitting downstairs at the Chinese & Thai takeway, wearing a combination of ridiculous fake leather leggins and white trainers, the first and and most comfortable clothes I could find. I’m waiting for my food and staring at the pastel-coloured neon signs with badly photoshopped images of the different dishes. It’s the best you can get on a Sunday around here if you want to keep the walking distance to a minimum. The guy prepares my food, he’s singing a song in a language I don’t understand and I sip on an artificially red softdrink. I think the guy’s actually Vietnamese.

It reminds me of that short story by Wladimir Kaminer where he’s out on a mission on the streets of Berlin to find out where the people who run the restaurants and takeaways are really from, and finds out the people from the kebab shop are actually Greek and the Greek restaurant is run by Yugoslavs. Or something like that. They’ve simply realised that the Germans don’t seem to notice a difference anyway, as long as the place looks authentic enough and the music is right so they decided to make a profit from it.

I eat my dinner upstairs in the flat, rice and duck and some coconut milk sauce with vegetables, by far the best you can get on a Sunday. I scoff the food wile sitting on my bed, thinking about life and staring into space. I’ve been back here for over a week now and I don’t feel like I’ve ever left the city. I’m too exhausted to make big changes and I wonder if it’s weird that sometimes I just want to switch off and not live but only exist for a while.

I‘m really bad at catching up with all the new flatmates but after some moving in and moving out over the past couple of months I thought I’d do a litte update on my current flatmate situation. I already mentioned Michi a while ago, I’m still not over the fact we probably knew eachother over the internet when we were like fourteen and I might do a post on him, too, if he allows me to. But for now, meet the new girl, Irina. She’s American with Kazakh roots which makes our flat so much more international again. We share a love for nights out and gay clubs, she owns some of the coolest collections I’ve seen in a long time and she’s also doing some pretty amazing art (my favourite is clearly the orgy series!). Hello Irina!

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Where did you beging 2011? In front of some random person’s house somewhere around Tempelhof with friends and fireworks. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before? I got another tattoo in a very visible place, went on a Beer Bike, finally did the Teufelsberg excursion and I guess quite a few other things that I don’t remember. I’m not that boring. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions and will you make more for next year? I didn’t have any, like last year, so there was nothing to keep. I won’t make any new ones, either. Were you in school anytime this year? No, I got the results of my Bachelor thesis and my BA degree at some point in spring so I’m done for now. Did anyone close to you give birth? No. Did anyone close to you die? No. What countries did you visit? England in the summer. How did you earn money? I still worked in my retail job in  January and then started my new sales and marketing job in March which is my main source of income. I’m also doing a bit of freelance web design work at the moment. Where did most of your money go? Food & drink, clothes, shoes and to my savings account. Did you have any encounters with the police? A neighbour called the police when we had our Halloween party – they were pretty relaxed, though. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011? A free mind and the ability to simply enjoy myself, regardless of external circumstances. What date from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? 11.11.11., for obvious reasons. And I’m originally from Cologne so it’s a pretty important date for the carnival, too. What was your biggest achievement of the year? My BA degree and my current job in terms of education and my career, I’ve also been even more independent and learned to say no more often. What was your biggest failure? I’ve had some bad days of course that made me feel like the biggest failure on the planet, not even for any specific reasons. Where did you go on holidays? I spent around two weeks at my parents’ place near Cologne in February to relax and recharge my batteries, I went to London in July to visit friends and now I’m back in the West for Christmas and New Year’s. What was the best thing you bought? My favourite leather jacket, OSX Lion, this perfume, these shoes, and these & various gig and flight tickets. What did you get really, really excited about? I always get excited about going away. Did you move anywhere? Not this year, no. I’ve been living in my flat for 15 months now. Where do you live now? Germany, Berlin, Neukölln. What songs will always remind you of 2011? David Bowie – We Are The Dead, Frank Turner – I Am Disappeared, Solomun – The Way Back. What do you wish you’d done more of? Listening to what I really want and doing things I actually enjoy. What do you wish you’d done less of? Feeling miserable. How did you spend Christmas? Like every year, with my parents, my brother and my grandparents, church, presents, dinner, cookies, sleep. What did you get for Christmas? Bedclothes and sheets, a towel, tea, money and a lot of candy. Where are you spending New Year’s? In Cologne, I guess, or at least in the area. Did you fall in love in 2011? No. How many one-night stands? I don’t kiss and tell. What was your favourite TV program? I don’t have a TV anymore but I’ve watched Tatort religiously. What books did you read? The ones I remember are Tony O’Neill – Sick City and Irvine Welsh – If You Liked School You’ll Love Work. What was your favourite film of this year? I don’t recall watching any new films except for the weekly Tatort. What did you want and get? A new tattoo on my forearm and a new job. What did you want and not get? Satisfaction. What did you do on your birthday and how old were you? I turned 22 this year and I went out with friends the night before for a drink, had cake in the office and a quiet night at home with a nice dinner. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011? Lots of black, as always, fringe leather jackets, high wedge heels, sheer blouses, tights, dark makeup and straight hair. It’s not exactly a concept, though. What kept you sane? Working. What concerts and shows did you go to? Over 30 in total, the best ones being Frank Turner @ White Trash, Patrick Wolf @ Lido, Deichkind @ Bread & Butter and Primal Scream @ Berlin Festival. What political issues stirred you the most? The Berlin elections in September. What has been your favourite moment? This is hard, I don’t think I’ve had one favourite moment – maybe the moments that I actually felt good and when I made plans and got excited about them. Favourite night out? There have been some good ones, no doubt. Tell us a valuable life lesson your learned in 2011. Don’t get involved too much, sometimes it’s better to keep quiet and don’t say anything. Don’t trust anyone, life is weird sometimes and takes even weirder turns. What’s something you learned about yourself? I ultimately learned it doesn’t matter where I am, I will always be myself and this shouldn’t upset me too much, in the end it’s ok and it won’t help to run away. What lyrics sum up your year of 2011? “She woke up screaming in the middle of the night, terrified of her own insides, dreams of pirate ships and Patty Hearst breaking through a life over rehearsed, she can’t remember which came first, the house, the home or the terrible thirst, she keeps having dreams. And on the worst days when it feels like life weighs ten thousand tonnes, she’s got her cowboy boots and car keys on the bed stand so she can always run.”

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Life is easy, I eat leftover Christmas cookies and healthy homemade dinners, play silly computer games, watch series, show my brother things on the internet and work on commission websites (I’ve missed coding websites so much and it makes me feel nerdier than ever). There’s a TV in this room which doesn’t work properly, it’s one of these modern mini TV sets, half the size of my computer screen which is tiny considering I’m only on a thirteen-inch laptop. I zapped from one channel to the other, the usual nightly crap that noone cares about, some random German comedy in between and one or two public channels with theatre documentaries too intellectual for my wrecked post-Christmas brain. I used to make fun of people who didn’t watch TV and seemed to pretend they didn’t miss it but now I know exactly what they mean. I just couldn’t care less.

I read and listen to music, sleep until noon, stay in bed, watch the rain outside, have baths & afternoon naps, get lost in my thoughts, make plans for when I get back to Berlin and walk through the cold and wet city wondering whether I grew, the buildings shrank or my perception of cities simply changed so drastically over the years.

The entire fridge in my guest house is stocked with this stuff so all I drink at the moment is coke made in Cologne. My family seems to love it and I’m not sure, I don’t know if I should feel patriotic about it. But it tastes alright and seems like a good alternative to all the Club Mate I usually drink.

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About five or six years ago my life was all about music. It was all I cared about, music and gigs. We would travel all over the country to see our favourite bands, sleep at train stations, collect club stamps on our wrists & bruises on our knees and spend all our money. It was what made my life exciting, while going to school, waiting for my graduation so I could finally move away and live my own life. Looking back, I was very lucky to be able to graduate from school at the age of seventeen, it gave me the chance to be independent a lot earlier and it saved me from the incredible boredom and frustration. I couldn’t have lasted another year in this town, with the same old faces and routines, and while I still had to, I used the music, the gigs and the excitement to get out of it as much as possible.

I was never hopelessly fanatic or a groupie, more a genuine fan who loved the music, the experience of live music and everything that had to do with it. I was a lot more naive at first, no doubt – it’s like that idea of sex, drugs and rock’n'roll, which you find fascinating at first, then you believe you’re oh so mature to realise it’s only a myth only to later find out that well, there clearly is something about it. I mean of course there is, everyone likes being invincible, a good fuck and the hazy state of intoxication.

Back in the days we always knew what band was in town and of course we would go see them. It made me feel alive, the excitement before the gig starts, the energy of the crowd and the songs. It makes you feel like you’re part of something, things just come together, eventually you end up hanging out with your favourite band, talking about life and sharing drinks and taxis. And suddenly you sit there on some shabby couch in a club at the other end of the country, sipping jägerbombs, discussing the most random things and you’re like, wow, these are the guys I’ve looked up to for so long, whose songs I know by heart, and tonight we’re all just normal people, they’re just very normal people. Well, of course they are.

I’ve become pretty disillusioned over the years when it comes to the whole concept of “fame”. It just doesn’t impress me. I respect people who have done or created something great and I still get excited if I see one of my early-teen heroes in a club or listen to an amazing song that means a lot to me. But that’s about it. It’s great to do something that you love and be good at it but let’s be honest, if you didn’t do it, someone else would. It’s true, when it comes down to it, noone cares whether you’re David Bowie or the milkman, you’re either cool or you’re not. I’m older now, I still go to gigs every once in a while, I’ve seen more, done more and still I sometimes miss the naive excitement of the whole thing, the spirit of it and all the fun we had.

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So I turned twenty-two yesterday, it’s that time of the year again and I realised I’m not a birthday person at all. I jut can’t help it. I don’t like the attention, I don’t like the pressure to do something special, and it makes me feel like an arsehole because I look like I just don’t appreciate the fact that people think of me on that day and wish me a happy birthday.

But my birthday is still something I remember every year and it makes me realise how much and how little things change. Last year I still worked in retail and had just moved into the our Neukölln flat, I took the day off and got my nose pierced as a surprise present from my friends, ended up at my own a surprise house party, went out to a club and had a small breakdown over the fact that the year that had passed was pretty shit. The year before that I went out for dinner in Berlin, I still lived in Cologne and I decided to not stay with friends for a change but in a hostel on my own, at midnight the waiter brought a chocolate cake and I cried myself to sleep because you know, I just don’t like birthdays. In 2008 I was still a uni student and I celebrated in a club in Cologne I frequented at that time, got presents from friends & free shots from the bar and walked home in the morning. I turned 18 the year before somewhere on the motorway between Cologne and Berlin, we bought champagne at the gas station and the random strangers we were sharing a car with sang Happy Birthday for me.

This year I went out for a drink with friends and went to bed early, I bought cake for the office, made myself some nice dinner and watched random videos in my bed. It’s alright, I don’t mind getting old.

I sold about half of my clothes at Mauerpark flea market today, so much stuff I never wear and still own for some reason. It made me realise I mostly wear the same stuff over and over. I’m probably one of the very few people on the internet who don’t take outfit photos and random full length mirror shots with expensive cameras. But when I’m bored I make random collages and this is a pretty good one of how I actually look like with items I actually really own or that at least look similar.

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December, finally. It’s winter now and cold, twenty-four more days till the end of the year. I spend my days working and my nights curled up in bed. I drink hot chocolate and tea and play silly computer games. It’s my birthday in a week and it scares me. I’m not a birthday person anymore, I don’t enjoy the attention and since my birthdays have become the annual day that I take stock of my life, they scare me even more. It’s not even about the number, I don’t mind it going up. Twenty-two is going to be alright, a lucky number, whatever that means. I really don’t care about numbers and age anymore, it clearly doesn’t say anything about maturity, let alone your character (but we all knew that anyway, didn’t we?).

I’m thinking about moving, again, I keep thinking about topics like that a lot although I know I won’t be doing it for now, simply because I know it wouldn’t change anything. I would love to be somewhere else, more than anything, but I also know I am not willing to give things up here just to start all over again somewhere else, as the same person, with the same mindset, the same everything. I know it wouldn’t be worth it because it wouldn’t change a thing. It might sound a tad depressing but it’s actually a pretty comforting thought: I don’t need to keep running away from everything because it simply doesn’t matter.

I’m leaving Berlin for around ten days on the 23rd of December and I will be spending them celebrating the usual family christmas, holding on to the only routines and traditions that we have left, and I will be spending a lot of time on my own locked in a quiet room waiting for enlightenment, just like last time. I’m looking forward to it, though, and I’m even going to skip New Year’s to have some more time on my own and escape Berlin and any kind of social obligations that come with it. Seven days till my birthday, seventeen days till Christmas and twenty-five days till 2012.

If you ever wondered what and where I like to eat, here you go. This is from the 100th issue of Exberliner.