Dear K(oward).

It was on this sunday 1 year ago, 52 weeks ago, 364 days ago, that you chose the easy way out, the cowardly way out – blocking, ghosting, deleting me. When, after a terrible mistake I made, you didn’t find enough love and care still there for me after over 9 years of friendship to at least try and give us another chance. Don’t get me wrong – I didn’t expect you to forget about it and move on as if nothing happened. In fact, I expected you to AT LEAST say “Sorry, but I can’t trust you anymore or forgive you, I want to end this friendship.”, that would have been just the normal thing to do after so many years of friendship. Instead, just like you had done for over 2 years since you got divorced, you distanced yourself even more from me than you had already done for 24 months. I’ll give it to you – in over 9 years since we met, we NEVER fought even once, not even about the smallest, most idiotic thing. And I always felt lucky to have you as my – what I at least thought – best friend, that there was everything next to perfect between us, that we cared so much about each other that there was never any reason for any kind of dispute. We were annoyed about the same things, we liked the same things (hell, Conventions won’t ever be the same without you), and even if we didn’t talk every day or even every week over the years, when we did, it always felt like we talked just yesterday – and there was barely anything I looked forward more to than whenever I visited you in your hometown; those 4 hours of trainride always felt like coming home to me.

Then everything changed, and maybe it was MY fault for not addressing it right away, for not risking a dispute or a fight about how you changed, how you suddenly seemed to not really need or want me in your life anymore. Maybe then my worries and anger wouldn’t have piled up over the 2 years it took until I made the mistake that led to the end of our friendship. It’s easy to think of the “What If”s when you can’t change a fucking thing, but still – what if I wouldn’t have cursed so much when I was annoyed in London or at Rogue Events, which obviously made you being embarrassed by me? What If I would’ve never tried to bring you and my dear friends from the UK together when you so clearly didn’t want anything to do with them? What If I would’ve learned during the almost 10 years of friendship to just trust you’d always be in my life, that I didn’t need to feel bad if I did more to keep in touch, when it was clear that with me being single, and you in a relationship and, later, in a marriage, it would always be the natural way because I had more time to myself?

Then again, after realizing you deleted my number last year just 3 days before my birthday, and blocking me on social media, I had a lot of time to think, and to let my anger not longer being suppressed. WHY did I have to feel I had to stop cursing and basically being myself around you when I thought of you as my best friend, with whom one should feel the most comfortable around? WHY should I feel so bad that you didn’t want to spend time with my UK friends when in London that I rather chose you than them a lot of times because I didn’t want you to be angry at me? WHY did I always feel bad when I mentioned my IBS problems to you when they have been one of the biggest and sadly, most important parts of my life for the past few years, instead always trying to stop mentioning it because you gave me the feeling it made you feel uncomfortable? And hell, WHY did I never truly want to accept the fact that with me mostly contacting you first, it was because you were obviously more important to me than I was to you?

Because the truth is – I wasn’t. Because if I would’ve meant as much to you did to me (until a few months before my mistake), then you would’ve ALWAYS made the effort to read my short stories (which I always write in english because it feels more natural to me) when I finished one or needed someone I trusted to read it and give me honest feedback during the writing process. You wouldn’t have had to keep reminding me that your english wasn’t good enough or that you couldn’t read it because you didn’t have an E-Reader. IF you truly ever cared that much about me, then you WOULD HAVE made an effort; you would’ve been so proud of me for writing that you, as a true friend, would’ve sat down and at least TRIED to read my words, even if it meant looking up every 2nd word in a dictionary. But the truth was – you just couldn’t give enough shit to support my hobby/dream.

And as much as I wanted to turn back time, to never have been pissed enough to write that tweet, to go back to where we were 364 days ago, to take back all the tears I cried over my fucking mistake and losing you in the days after that, I have to admit that this past year has been the best year I have had in a very, very long time – despite Covid-19. Or maybe, BECAUSE of Covid-19, because if that wouldn’t have happened, we would’ve probably never had fallen out with each other at all. But as more time passes, I feel somewhat more free – without you, I don’t feel like I often have to pretend to be fine with stuff, I don’t have to hide some of my characteristics because you might feel embarrassed or anything. I didn’t have the picture perfect upbringing that you had – both parents alive, a great relationship to your sister, grown up in a big house with a garden, never having any money issues growing up and later, being pretty and obviously popular in school and with boys/guys. Instead, I am loud when I am pissed off, I use the worse language a woman could probably use, I am easily annoyed by the tiniest things, and I am mostly a very negative person because overall, I did not have a lot of good experiences in my life.

And therefor, you choosing the cowardly way out – deleting, blocking and ghosting me on Sunday, May 3rd, 2020, was the best thing that could’ve probably happened to me at that time, as now, I feel more confident now that I don’t have to feel like I have to compete with you killing it with your diet, keeping healthy, having a strong enough mindset to set yourself goals – despite knowing full well that that was toxic thinking because I obviously had a very difficult relationship with my body, sliding into some sort of anorexia/bulimia, and thinking I had to keep up with you losing weight, becoming thinner and looking even more prettier than you did before triggered me more than I will probably ever be able to admit.

So you throwing me away, out of your life like the trash you clearly thought I was last year maybe saved my mindset, and maybe, somehow, my life, because ever since, I feel more comfortable with 2kg more on me, not having to think “Fuck, K keeps losing weight, looking good, I’ll kill myself if I someday become the fat friend.” Plus, over the course of this pandemic that now lasts for almost 14 months, I have learned to truly appreciate the friends I had in my life along with you, and whom I always somehow didn’t cherish as much as I should. I’m closer to one of them especially since then, because I know that no matter what – I can be who I am around them at all times, cursing and shouting and whatnot.

So this is MY final goodbye. I won’t waste another thought on somebody who for the last 2 years of our friendship so obviously didn’t care enough about the over 7 years before that, about all the travels, experiences and memories that she couldn’t even at least TRY to forgive me, to give us another chance. I won’t wish bad things on anybody except my mother’s horrible husband, but…one day, I hope you’ll somehow walk a mile in my shoes, with the personal and health and mental problems and realize that all you sometimes need to get through that is to let it out, be yourself and unload your shit to your best friend because that’s what best – or very, very close – friends are actually for.

(Hopefully) Beating IBS or How I Got My Life Quality Back

Anyone suffering from IBS knows exactly what I’m talking about. The constant issues, often coming out of the blue, when you least expect or need it.

I first came in touch with this illness three years ago while on my first trip to a friend who lives in Scotland. The day we planned on going to explore beautiful Edinburgh (which required a car drive of about one and a half hours from where she lives), I suddenly had those symptoms – I could barely get out of the bathroom, thinking maybe the cereal I ate that morning was the problem, that my digestive tract didn’t like what it was given, that it couldn’t cope with the dietary fibre inside it. Today I know that I actually am not able to actually digest the dietary fibres and other stuff that’s in oatmeal, for example, but back then, it was all new. I felt so tired the entire morning that I felt like sleeping for the rest of my life. And even though it was sort of embarrassing to talk about that stuff with one of the most important people/friends in my life, face to face, when she asked me about all the symptoms I had had before and that day, it was soon clear that I obviously suffered from IBS. And though it was a bit of a shock to have a name for it, it was also a relief knowing that I might be able to do something about it, because ever since knowing, I realized how limited my life had become.

I finally knew what happened when I was in new or uncomfortable (e.g. nervousness because of dates or job interviews, meeting new people for the first time, doctor’s appointments), or, especially recently, psychologically stressful and challenging situations (my current work situation, constant worries that “something” will happen while I’m out and can’t go to a bathroom I’m comfortable with, hygiene-wise). It went so far that ever since I had a protracted stomach bug last december, my every day life was often a fight. I basically lived on rusk, Perenterol, charcoal tablets and Loperamide for months – with especially the latter not being healthy if you take it longer than two days in a row, but I felt like I had no choice. I popped those things like Tic Tac’s, and I ate even less than I already do (due to a slight eating disorder) because I felt like no matter what I put into my mouth, it would result in new issues all over again, and even the slightest weird feeling in my stomach made me start to panic – resulting in me weighing as little as I ever have in the past couple of years (46,7kg at 1,71m). I have lost count of the number of sick days I pulled at work because I was feeling like “something was coming on”, and though my boss always seems understanding about it (because he claims having similar problems), there’s only so much understanding a boss can feign and have.

I avoided my beloved Latte Macchiato or cereal in the mornings because the milk and/or the caffeine would result in hours of feeling uncomfortable and the urge to run to the bathroom, “just in case”. I stopped eating pizza and cake/pie because I was paranoid that those things also made me react with IBS symptoms (especially the cake, it seemed, when it came out of a freezer). I even went to a gastroenterologist to test whether it was actually a lactose/fructose/gluten intolerance, and the results of all of them came back negative, which left me absolutely desperate and hopeless, because I just didn’t know what to do to stop this.

This was the moment I decided that no matter how skint I was, how little I should and could actually afford it, I needed to take action and get a special medication from the pharmacy called “Kijimea”, which is known to be quite expensive, but the only REAL help with IBS if you take it constantly every day for at least 4 weeks, better 6 weeks. It is proven that after that time, the IBS symptoms and whatever comes with it disappear for good, and though I never actually believed it, I found myself at a point where I was so desperate and trapped in some sort of depression because of my limited life quality that I decided to give it a shot. And today, after two weeks and one day, I can honestly say: FUCK, IT WORKS.

The pharmacist said it would still take quite a while for my body/digestive tract to get used to it and regenerate completely, but that the first results will already be palpable after two or three days. I never believed that kind of stuff, but in that case, I say it again: FUCK IT WORKS. It’s not completely gone yet, but I can say with pride and relief that I already got back some of my life quality. I barely take the fore mentioned pills anymore, I feel more relaxed (although almost every morning when I’m almost at the office, I have a short, tiny setback, but that’s probably due to the current stressful situation) and safer about it than I have in years. I even feel happier and calmer when I’m out for a walk through the city, or meeting up with friends, or walk home for one and a half hours instead of taking the tube where I can sit safely. There are still days that I feel the bubbling in my stomach and am slightly worried what is going on, but those moments have become a bit rarer in the past two weeks.

And though there are still two weeks left of the Kijimea treatment, I can actually say that I have part of my life quality back, and there’s barely anything these days that leaves me happier and more satisfied than that. They say that health is the most important thing, that it doesn’t matter whether you’re rich of have loads of friends or a loving boyfriend/husband. I never believed that before, I admit that, but ever since that treatment is actually helping, I do.

There’s nothing more important than health, and you have to cherish it as long as you can possibly do, because you only have this one life.

Female, Single, 31, looks for…

nothing anymore.

I recently, after years of absence, decided to register again on an online dating website that I had been a member of a couple of years back. I’m not even sure what exactly it was that I was looking for, or if I was actually truly interested in starting it again after my last date will be 10 years ago in January 2018. In truth, I somewhat “miss” the feeling when you get to know someone, when you text each other, have long phonecalls, the likes (Obviously, I dated before facebook, instagram, Snapchat and all became a real thing). It’s that phase that somehow has always kept me wanting to get back into it, this feeling of butterflies beginning to built inside your stomach, and constant goofy grins on your face when you think or talk about the other person.

But this experiment ended just as quickly as it started again, and this time, it will be for good. Because once again, my eyes have been opened widely.

You see, I’m not like normal 31-year old women. I don’t have a defect, I have two eyes, a nose, mouth, two hands, two feet, 10 fingers and 10 toes. There’s nothing physically wrong with me despite my horribly crooked teeth. I am not lesbian or bisexual.

But still – and this is a confession that I am making because I am SICK of the questions, of the astonishment, of the shock, and above all, of explaining myself! – I’ve not only never had a relationship with a boy/man in my entire life, no. I also have never kissed a guy in all my years. And to top it all – I am a virgin.

A 31-year-old virgin.

Whenever this comes up, I’m asked the same stupid questions: “Don’t you miss something in your life, then?” Well…no. Because how can you miss something you know jack squad about? And this one: “Well, being close to somebody, intimate. Don’t you miss/want that?” Well, duh, part of the answer I have just mentioned. And the other part…I’m not really a people’s person, so…no. Not really.

I feel uncomfortable when there are intimate scenes on TV or in movies, and I don’t get why nowadays, in all shows on TV there always have to be sex scenes between the actors, always making out scenes, to solve problems, to make up again and what not. Over and over and over, as if there is not enough other content to feel the minutes and hours with. I feel uncomfortable when friends talk about sex, about private parts and all those names that come up over and over again, because I have to pretend that I know what they are talking about, that I can easily be part of that conversation, though I somehow feel like I’m not part of the group during that time.

And up until one and a half years ago I never really thought about what that meant to people my age, what it meant for me and my future relationship status. But I had a facebook conversation with a guy that I got to know through a group on there, a guy I kind of clicked with quickly, we thought similar, and we both seemed to have gone through a lot in our life so far. It was just a matter of time until the conversation would switch to my relationship status and how long I had been single. And to be honest – I absolutely HATE that part of a conversation, with anyone, friends or strangers. I feel like an absolute weirdo, and I always picture their face when they hear it for the first time, that the only experience I have on the relationship and sex side is one single hug from a man who had such a huge impact on me 10 years ago that I have not considered serious dating ever since. The disbelieve, and, sometimes, disgust, like I am not normal. And sometimes, I think so myself, because I know it’s not “normal” in the sense of the word and in our society. And I think I know the reason why I can’t seem to go beyond that first stage of getting to know a guy before I am too scared to go further, decline dates and break up the contact. It lies in my family and school situation back when I was a teenager, and no therapy in the world will probably be able to get rid of it. And that guy on facebook? As much of an asshole some might think he has been for saying that so bluntly, I have to give him credit that he was brutally honest when he said:

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to offend you, but if you haven’t had any experience whatsoever so far, what with being 30 and all, I don’t think there’ll ever be any experience at all for you. Because the older you become, the more difficult it will get.”

It shocked me to the core then, and I guess that is the reason I stopped being a member of the forementioned dating website. I stopped believing that what that guy said was utter bullshit, and just wanted to forget it. And so a couple of days ago, I signed up again and quickly started talking to somebody who was nice, someone it was easy to talk to, but after a couple of days, the conversation swerved in the direction I feared the most, and once again, by his reaction, my eyes were opened for a second time, and this time?

They’re open for good. I’m not looking anymore for the “man of my dreams”, for dates or relationships or whatnot. And somehow I’m okay with it, made my peace with it for now. Maybe the future has a different plan for me some day. We’ll see, won’t we?

 

Book Review: Adi Alsaid – “Let’s Get Lost”

Five strangers. Countless adventures.One epic way to get lost.
Four teens across the country have only one thing in common: a girl named LEILA. She crashes into their lives in her absurdly red car at the moment they need someone the most.  
There’s HUDSON, a small-town mechanic who is willing to throw away his dreams for true love. And BREE, a runaway who seizes every Tuesday—and a few stolen goods along the way. ELLIOT believes in happy endings…until his own life goes off-script. And SONIA worries that when she lost her boyfriend, she also lost the ability to love. 
Hudson, Bree, Elliot and Sonia find a friend in Leila. And when Leila leaves them, their lives are forever changed. But it is during Leila’s own 4,268-mile journey that she discovers the most important truth— sometimes, what you need most is right where you started. And maybe the only way to find what you’re looking for is to get lost along the way. (Source: amazon.com)

I got this book quite a while ago and finally read it – and I am more than glad that I did so. It may “only” been Alsaid’s debut novel, but to be honest, he did a pretty damn good job on it, and I am looking forward to read more of him in the future.

The story itself is segmented into 4 completely different storylines – Hudson, Bree, Elliot & Sonia – but they all have one thing in common: despite the fact that they are the main characters, the girl named Leila has been written so amazingly well by Alsaid that she really (at least for me) is what captures the reader when reading each of the chapters.

Hudson
Hudson works at his father’s garage, fixing cars, and when Leila shows up in his life, she turns it upside down in a way that everyone has probably seen at least once in movies or read about in other books – some kind of Hollywood-like love story-thing. It was easy for me to warm up to Hudson, because I could relate to a person who falls helplessly for someone at first sight (don’t let me get started about how much it has happened to myself!). I loved how Leila came crashing into his little, normal life, its path predestined, his future all laid out in front of him by his father, and makes Hudson question his life choices, thinking deeply about his dreams and fears. And she’s doing it with such an easy-going attitude that might make the reader, when being in a dark chapter in their life, wish, that kind of person would crash into it and help them turning it around, changing it forever. And when that first storyline ends, I found myself thinking “That can’t just be it, can it?”, wishing for the entire rest of the book that there will be more of it. And is there? Well, to know that, you should probably go and read it 🙂

Bree
Bree’s storyline is the one I didn’t really like at all. Bree is a runaway girl who left her home to hitchhike across the country, due to her older sister babying her all the time after their parents died of cancer. Just to get away from facing her worries and fears. I didn’t like that part that much, because with all that happens inside of it – Bree convincing Leila of shoplifting, both of them ending up in jail, all the teenage-like fighting with Bree’s sister when she comes bailing them out, – is too…”forced” for me. It’s like Alsaid tries to stretch out every single one of teenage clichés, and the only thing missing would be Bree stomping with her feet, screaming “I hate you, you ruined my life!” at her sister. It was too predictable for me what would come next on Bree’s road trip, to be fair. The only thing that made up for the lack of surprise – once again – was Leila. Her role in the storyline was a beautiful one, what with her being the thing that makes Bree do the right life choice for herself after such a long time of running away from it.

Elliot
I have nothing else than praise for this storyline, and it was by far my absolute favourite. Of course, if I talked about teenage clichés in the “Bree” part, I have to speak about them in this one, too. Elliot, on his prom night, having the worst moment of his life when he confessed his love to his best friend and is clearly rejected (she runs away), is the picture perfect example of a lot of young teenage boys in any Hollywood movie anybody could possibly ever think of. The story itself reeks of “Happy Ending”. And yet, Alsaid understands how to play it out, throwing obstacle after obstacle inbetween Elliot’s feet, and every single time you think that now, he’ll give up. I loved it. I loved that Leila made Elliot go on, no matter what, how she keeps him strong. During that chapter, the positive energy that the reader gets from Leila is inspiring to feel, making me, personally, wish again that there was someone like that in my life, someone who lifts you up like that even if you can’t fight anymore, and who changes your life forever in a heartbeat without expecting anything back. And maybe, the fact that I could picture every single scene of their story in my head, as if it was my own, or that every station Leila & Elliot reach on their way reminded me alot of the relationship between Margo & Quentin in John Green’s book “Paper Towns”, captured me even more in this particular chapter that as soon as I had finished it, I wanted to go back and read it all over again.

Sonia
This storyline was a bit hard for me to grasp, as it is said that Sonia and Leila are about the same age, but from the style of writing, it seems as if Sonia is at least 5 or 6 years older – she has lost her boyfriend to a heart failure 7 months back, leaving her with a constant hate for herself because she has fallen in love with somebody else just shortly after said boyfriend died, struggling with going public with it, scared of hurting and disappointing his family who have taken her in with open arms. The problems Sonia is facing are probably the most grown-up throughout the entire book, and maybe the ones I can relate the least to. Not because I am not grown-up myself, but because I have never been in a situation like she is. And the connection Leila and she made seemed somewhat “misplaced” to me, because it felt more like two sisters – Sonia the older, settled one, Leila the younger, wild one, – than two total strangers meeting, with one of them changing the other one’s life forever. And somehow, that storyline didn’t fit in with the other three for me. I loved the outcome of it, nevertheless – I even shed one or two tears, so that has to count for something.

And then, there is…Leila
I have to admit, I was a bit surprised when I reached the book at about 85% (I read it on my Kindle), and the last chapter was all about her. I was wondering what exactly would come up now except the fact that Leila had, in fact, finally gotten to see the Northern Lights. But I was pleasantly surprised with one last, very touching storyline, maybe the one some readers waited for ever since they started this book. Leila’s does one last “road trip”, encounters total strangers one last time, is greeted by the same amount of kindness that she seemed to have dedicated her life to herself, and during it, finally finds herself, where she truly belongs to. And Alsaid saved up to solve the mystery about her until that last storyline/chapter – which is probably one of the smartest things he could have done, and one of the things that made his debut novel such an amazing one. And once again – a few tears wanted to escape my eyes at the end.

All in all, this book (to me) was totally riveting, thrilling, absolutely touching and above all, a very very enjoyable piece of literature.

Remember your very first story?

I do remember it, vividly. It was something that was placed in the “Star Wars” universe just after the 2nd prequel back in 2002″, and after I read a novel that was centered inbetween “The Phantom Menace” and “Attack Of The Clones”. I remember reading that book and somehow ended up writing my own short story. When I remenisce now, and when I look back at what and how I was writing back then, a shiver goes through me. It was bad. Like, really bad. I can’t believe the grammar I used back then. But still, they were my first attempts in writing, and I still remember the vivid fantasy I had back then, making things up that would probably never happen (welcome to my life).

But what I remember more vividly is 5 years back. I had just finished my job training 2 years earlier, and I was massively unhappy with where I’ve worked. Since those first tries in writing as a teenager, with all the “Star Wars” centered stories, my biggest dream had been to become a professional writer one day. I knew I wasn’t even close to be as good as others were, and maybe never would be, but that never diminished my love for books or texts. On the contrary: somehow, I felt challenged. Then, one day, I got my hands on a copy of “Face Of Death” by Cody McFadyen, and soon after (just because this is one of the goddamn best books that have ever been written in the history of books and writing), “Shadow Man”, which was the first book of the series. And when I was finished, I knew what I wanted to do.

Writing my own story.

Not a short story this time, like all those years before, no. A long one. A real book.

And thanks to these two amazing books, my brain was practically overflowing with ideas. I had no idea where to put them, because they were so many and they came to me in such a rush that I didn’t know what to write first. Before I knew, I had finished 9 or 10 chapters. I was on a roll, how writers like to describe their very inspirational phase. I had quite a few people/friends read a few excerpts of what I had written down so far, and everyone of them was pleasantly surprised of what I had brought to paper. They urged me to go on, telling me they wanted to read more (which, of course, I couldn’t do because I still had planned to one day publish that exact piece of work, and what good would it do if a lot of people already knew every single bit of it?). That was most likely my biggest and most productive time in the writing process. Whenever I got a good comment or critics, it kept me going, kept inspirations, ideas and motivation flow into my head like a river. I had even created my own cover (see picture above) and had researched about certain places and death methods in the USA, etc. I loved this process.

Then time took its toll, and things in my life happened that stopped me being able to write anymore. By then, I had already started on writing the very last chapter (without even knowing much about what was happening inbetween – I had stopped writing the “normal” chapters in a row when I reached the 15th chapter, then started on the final chapter because I had a great idea of revealing everything), and without sounding bigheaded: it was amazing. I absolutely loved it. But somehow, I had lost my spirit. I just stopped writing because I didn’t get any feedbacks anymore. I didn’t ask people to read what I had written down because I had started doubting myself. My ability to write anything decent that I could live with had slowly faded, and whenever I read back what I had put onto paper, I wanted to take it and crumple it up, burn it immediately, because I thought “What kind of crap is that?”. I know I was in a self-destructive phase, concerning my writing career. I went from having the brightest future planned ahead in my mind from zero ability and motivation to write whatsoever. Years passed where I regretted bygone times, where I dearly missed the times where I could write all day and night and didn’t think I would ever be able to go to bed without writing at least one whole chapter, and I have never been able to relive those times, I was caught in such massive self-doubts that I stopped believing that I would ever start writing again, let alone on that long story I had done so far – because I had started to despise it.

And then last year happened, when I started this blog. First meant as nothing but a theatre based blog where I could write down my experiences in german and London theatres/musicals, or travel experiences, it soon turned into a blog where I first started writing about books I’ve read – until I published my first Short Story on here. I don’t know how it happened – it was probably one of my friends starting publishing short stories on her own wordpress blog, too, – but that was the moment I slowly stopped thinking I wasn’t capable of writing anymore. I didn’t get much feedback on what I expressed on here, but the few things I got from some people motivated me. I was back on a roll, even if only very slowly, and I’m not even close to be back where I used to be 5 years ago.

Today, I have published 4 whole Short Stories on here, but somehow, I could never forget that first story I wrote. The first real story. The one that I originally had planned and dreamed of being published. The one where I had put in so much love and sweat and work and inspiration and effort. It always drifted around in the back of my head whenever I sat down to write a blog or a story or even a letter to a friend. I could never forget it, like a long lost love. And still, for 5 years, I hated it after I had given up on it, and whenever I re-read it, I was hating myself for the crap I had written down. But somehow, I could never throw it away or delete it from my harddrive, even if I would maybe never look at it or take it into my hands again. But two days ago, I took all my courage and will and got it out.

Since then, I have made a promise to myself: write at least 1.000 words a day after work. I have begun to translate it into english (as I had originally written it in my native language, german, but now prefer the english language way more), and re-write it anew. Putting in some changes here and there, especially the parts where it lacked a lot of logic in retrospect (which was probably the reason why I hated it so much). Right now, every day there is enough in my head to keep to my daily goal of 1.000 words, today it were even 1.800, and I feel like this time, I can really finish what I’ve started. After all, that one story had been my baby. The one thing that back then meant more than anything to me. It had held the promise of a better life for me, for my biggest dream to come true, to escape the dull and lonely life I was living and nowadays somehow have come to live again, because hands down: life and people never stop changing, the world never stops turning just because you need it to stop.

And the thought of finally giving that one dream that I gave up on 5 years ago another chance of coming true is beautiful. I know I am by far not a good writer, there are loads and loads of good writers out there, who have more potential than me and do not need a dictionary by their side while they’re typing. But I also know that I finally found some confidence again to fulfil my dream, to trust myself again with the feeling that I actually CAN do it this time. That I can finish what I started, no matter how long it will take. And that this time, hopefully, I will not let myself doubt my abilities because of the lack of feedback or support I get, because of so-called friends’ ignorance and lack of caring for what means a hell of a lot to me. I feel motivated again to start all over with what I have started 5 years back, with finding that one special potential in my 1st real story that I have seen in it all these years back.

And I hope to one day being able to present my story to the world.

Book Review: Jenny Lawson – “Let’s Pretend This Never Happened”

Jenny Lawson realized that the most mortifying moments of our lives—the ones we’d like to pretend never happened—are in fact the ones that define us.
In the #1 New York Times bestseller, “Let’s Pretend This Never Happened”, Lawson takes readers on a hilarious journey recalling her bizarre upbringing in rural Texas, her devastatingly awkward high school years, and her relationship with her long-suffering husband, Victor. Chapters include: “Stanley the Magical, Talking Squirrel”; “A Series of Angry Post-It Notes to My Husband”; “My Vagina Is Fine. Thanks for Asking”; “And Then I Snuck a Dead Cuban Alligator on an Airplane.” Pictures with captions (no one would believe these things without proof) accompany the text. (Source: goodreads.com)

How do you explain this book to anybody who has neither heard of it nor read it themselves? Answer: you can’t, which will make this blog post a lot of fun. Two things that are for sure about it, though: 1. I have never read a better and more entertaining book than this one, having me more than once in stitches including stupid grinning on the bus home and, as a result of that, weird looks from my felllow bus companions. And 2., never in my life have I used so many bookmarks in a book before (thank God I have it as a Kindle version, I guess. Would be funny to look at if on my bookshelf otherwise). There’s not one page in this book that will not make your fingers wanting to switch over to the “Put to bookmarks” button, I guarantee you.

For starters, Jenny Lawson didn’t have the best and wealthiest childhood in the world, if you think about money. With what she grew up were experiences. Weird experiences. Loads of them. For example, one day, her father, who was a taxidermist and always brought dead (or almost dead, that is) animals home for Jenny and her sister to play with. One of those lovely things was a little racoon called Rambo who attacked Jenny’s sister when they were little and Jenny described it as “…and it was totally awesome.” Or the part where she says that if the reader can’t take a book as disturbing as hers (with talking about standing in a dead animal in her father’s taxidermy shop), they should “get another book that’s less disturbing than this one. Like one about kittens. Or genocide.” Sadly, I am not making this up, this is exactly how it’s described in the book.

I know that mostly all of the experiences Jenny makes in this book, throughout her life, with a gang of turkeys (or, according to her father, “big quails”) following her around school, wild animals like racoons, cougars or goats showing up right next to your head all of a sudden, being an outcast at school, having more than one miscarriage, experiencing drugs, are not the stuff you should usually laugh about (except for the first two things, maybe). But the thing I personally love about this book is that there is no sugarcoating whatsoever in it. Jenny Lawson describes it as it has happened, as she has experienced and suffered through it, and she does it in the most entertaining way the reader could ever imagine. Her life hasn’t been kind to her all the time, but she got through it, she straightened her back, directed her gaze into the future and never looked back in pity. In fact, she embraced every single episode in her life, no matter how weird and unbelievable it has been. This is an ability I admire more than anything else, because it makes the story itself so vivid, and transfers the book into a complete pageturner, and, also, grabs you by the hand and doesn’t let you go until you’ve finished.

I have read critics about this book where people said they found Jenny Lawson “annoying”, “unbelievable” and “unsympathetic”. I, however, do not understand such an opinion. For me, even during the introduction of the book, she became one of the most sympathetic writers that are out in the world. Maybe it’s the fact that she is exactly like one of my friends, Laura, is, who’s got her own blog on here (mysticmonkey.wordpress.com), and who is the most entertaining writer/person for me. While I was reading, it was like I was reading a book of a friend like Laura. I instantly bonded with Jenny when I read about how her parents once kicked her out a driving car (which was totally an accident, don’t be shocked, you’ll understand it if you read it) in the introduction, and the way she writes and tells her life story…I can’t explain it, it just got to me, and was the foundation for me admiring this author to no end.

The ability to grab a reader by the hand, pulling them in and making them feel like a part of the book, like they can’t put the book down for even a second because they’d feel like a part of them is being put down – that is an ability that is the one that I, myself, strive for one day. Jenny Lawson’s writing talent is absolutely out of this world, she describes simple, normal, yet sometimes horrible facts of life in such a hilarious way that the reader can’t help but enjoy every single word of it. And me, personally, she got to the point where even just a few sentences into the introduction, I wished I wouldn’t have started the book because I knew I would have finished it just far too soon, and that I could read this book for the 1st time again.

There is no way I can give her only 5 out of 5 stars in my rating, so I’ll just say: go, buy this book. It’s worth every penny, and it will make your life brighter and is a true enrichment to every bookshelf.

Simply the BEST. BOOK. EVER. Thank you, Jenny Lawson. Well done. Very well done.

What A Girl Wants

No, this is not another post about Leonardo DiCaprio. I had a long talk last night with one of my best friends, Sarah, about a certain girly stuff: men. And that made me think about a few things that I’d like to get off my chest.

I have always been a loner, concerning friends and relationships with guys I like. I haven’t had a nice past with either of these two groups of people, and maybe that made me a loner…no, it definitely did. But what bugs me is that a while back, and sometimes these days, my (girly) friends of now 7 years seem to think I am missing out on the best thing in life because I am shy and a loner in general. Like having a relationship, getting married, having kids, a house and a labradoodle would be the only thing worth living for. Of course – what a shocker! – all my friends are either in a relationship, married or one of them even has a baby boy now (who’s the sweetest little boy ever, for real, to be girlish here). They all have plans at one point in their life to built a life with their partners, and whenever I don’t feel like meeting up with them because for me, it would somehow feel like a group-couple-meeting, I feel judged in their minds. They are not always saying it, thank God, normally they know better than that, but I know they think my rejection to them has only one reason: ENVY.

And I am so sick of this.

Here’s what I really see as the principal aims in my life:

1. Honest, reliable & true friends
To me, this is actually way more important than being in a relationship with a guy. People you can turn to when you feel like giving up, people you can trust with your whole heart and who, even when there are more than just a few bumps down the road, will always be there to help you when you stumble. And to be honest, whenever I am about to meet my best friend Kim in Hamburg or the friends I now have in the UK – among all of them Susie, Sarah, Noor & Sigal – I get more excited and happy about it than I could ever be with meeting a guy for a date (because hands down, I’m horrible at dating). This it what makes me happy.

2. A good, steady & safe job
This should be kind of a goal for every person to aim for. I could never, and will never, picture myself having no job, sitting at home 24/7, either by choice or not. After more than a week of holidays at home, I always feel like I’m going stir-crazy and wish to go back to work, to my crazy, often annoying colleagues – people who nevertheless often are what keeps me sane 8 hours a day. Plus, even when you get home after an exhausting day, you can look back proudly because you have actually done something, reached something, even if it’s the smallest thing. This is what makes me content.

3. Travelling far, often & with a lot of beautiful memories
Here’s where it gets tricky. Being scared as hell of flying is a huge obstacle on this subject, but due to a lot of beautiful memories over the past 3 years, I have found other ways to travel around, and where I plan on going in the near future, I can go by train or bus – even if it will contain hours and hours of travelling around. And although I know myself and am pretty sure I will never be able to overcome my fear of flying: you never know what might change one day after all. This is what gets me excited.

4. Making different, interesting & nice experiences
Theatre, cinema, musicals, concerts, stand-up comedy, conventions, readings – I haven’t experienced all of the mentioned yet, but basically they are my life. They are what I get excited about, what I enjoy the most, because they combine all of my passions: movies, music, series & books. They are completing me. This is what relaxes me.

5. A nice, lovely & perfect place to live
We all have that one happy place that we want to go and live at for the rest of my life. For most of my life, this place was New Zealand, and since 2012, my new happy place is the UK. I love London to bits, and I have never been really happy to live where I live now, in Germany, in the flat and city I’m currently residing in. I dream and plan to one day leave this godforsaken city and country for good and live somewhere nice in the UK forever. With all external circumstances falling together into one piece, that is. This is what keeps me going.

THESE are the things I want, the things that make me happy, the things that make me who I am. Not a guy, not a marriage, not having a family. I’m not delusional, somewhere in the back of my mind there is the tiny spot that – of course – somehow hopes there’ll be a soulmate at the other end one day. But I am not searching for him. I’m not waiting for him. One of my friends, Laura, is kind of a role model for me in that: she raises her two kids all on her own in the best way a mother could do; her kids are well-educated, polite, nice and lovely. Laura doesn’t need a man to raise them to excellent people one day – she knows women should be more emancipated than a lot of them actually are, and I just know she’ll look back on her life one day and know she doesn’t need to have any regrets (Plus, she’s an amazing writer; one of my dreams is becoming an author one day, but compared to her, I am crap. Really crap. She’s funny, sarcastic, blunt and highly entertaining, in comparison to my poor tries of writing. Check out for yourself: mysticmonkey86.wordpress.com). I’ll be perfectly fine without a partner, if that’s what the rest of my life is holding for me. I have never known anything else, and the sooner people – friends – stop seeing me in a relationship to see me in a happy place and start realizing that what I’m doing and dreaming of is what will REALLY make me happy, the better.

2013 – A Year In Events

As the year now fast comes to an end, I decided to jump onto the known bandwaggon and make some kind of an end-of-year review of what my year has been like (I hear the screams of the “Oh no, not one of those AGAIN!”). If you’ve read this blog before, you’ll be shocked to see that it all mostly consists of me travelling around the world aka London. But anyways, I want to look back at all the lovely things I’ve experienced this year, all the lovely people I met and made friends with. Because this year consisted of so many beautiful memories that no one will ever be able to take away from me.

January
2013 started for me in the worst possible way. I was in a huge fight with a colleague who once had been a very good friend, and I thought about quitting my job due to the fact I couldn’t stand seeing and working with her all day. It was a very fine line these first weeks in the year. But then my life turned with a bang. Literally. Okay, not literally, but you know what I mean. At the end of this month, I was going back to London with my best friend for my 2nd visit – safe to say the moment I first stepped foot on holy british ground three months before, there was no going back. It was more than just a “quick visit”; we had both a full-packed plan. There would be 3 Musicals & 1 Live Concert at the Hippodrome Casino in just 2 days – little did I know back then how much that Casino visit would impress me! I went to see “We Will Rock You” together with a friend I met during my 1st visit in London in September 2012, simply because I was all on my own and back then, she was the biggest fan of Oliver Tompsett (who plays Galileo) I had ever met so far. That night was the first night I actually had a proper chat with him, and also, met the wonderful Katie Paine for the first time. She had been a mindblowing Killer Queen that night and hasn’t been topped by any other Killer Queen I have seen before or after her. She’s amazing. And nothing else but absolutely lovely and kind.

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The 2 other shows that weekend were “Billy Elliott” and “Les Misérables”. It was my first time seeing both shows, and due to a really crap seat (seriously, never, EVER sit on the balcony if you love moving your legs. Or your body, for that matter.) I couldn’t really enjoy the latter. The voices were amazing, there’s no doubt about it, but that was it for me. I will never be a person who gets along nicely with texts that are not normally spoken but sung. “Les Misérables” itself is amazing, with everything around, but I think it’s just not the right thing for me. It was also the Cast Change day, and seeing Liam Tamne going after I’ve heard and seen his beautiful talent was heartbreaking – even he started crying during the last “Do You Hear The People Thing” so that he hadn’t been able to properly sing his part.

“Billy Elliott”, however, surprised me way more than I thought. I had never watched the movie, have never been bothered or interested in it, but the show itself was beautiful. All these talented kids…it was amazing to watch them dancing and singing on stage. Our Billy that day, Harris Beattie, was the most talented kid I had ever seen on a stage so far, and I know I will definitely be back for a 2nd time somewhen in 2014 for sure.

Last but not least, a concert awaited me and my best friend at the Hippodrome Casino, Matcham Room: Caissie Levy. I had heard her sing on the Cast Recordings of “Ghost – The Musical”, and I was absolutely stunned by her voice and talent, so I was more than excited for that night, especially because Oliver Tompsett & Paul Ayres (he played Carl in “Ghost”) would be there, too. And I wasn’t disappointed. It was an unforgettable night for me – especially at the moment when my favourite West End Person ever – Simon Lipkin – casually walked up the stairs, just 5 metres away from me, and queued to be let into the Matcham Room with everyone else. Seeing him made that night even more perfect than it already was, with all the beautiful voices and songs. I hopethat one day I will be part of that kind of special night again
 

The next 2 months were sort of…dead. Not literally, but almost. I love to think of February & March of the time I needed to recover my jaw from dropping all the way to the floor when I saw Mr. Lipkin coming up these stairs at the Hippodrome. Yes, I am that pathetic that I admit I need to recover from looking at this beautiful man. Sue me.

April
I was finally visiting my best friend again, after three long months (she lives about 4,5 hours away from me). There was not much planned, just having a great time together – and of course, seeing my beloved musical “Tarzan” again. It had been that one musical back in March 2012 that had me completely fall in love with Musical Theatre in the first place; I love absolutely everything about it, the costumes, the actors, the storyline, the songs, the stage set…I could go on and on and wouldn’t be able to explain it properly to you. It was my 3rd time back at the Neue Flora in Hamburg, and it still hadn’t lost any of its magic for me. These first few minutes when the show starts, when “Two Worlds” start playing – never has any beginning of any show made my entire skin crawl of goosebumps as the beginning of “Tarzan”.
Sadly, my best friend got sick that weekend so after watching the show, the rest of the weekend consisted of sitting infront of her TV, doing a “Full House” marathon. But you know what? That made this weekend even more wonderful, because it’s these little things I love about our friendship the most, the thing I cherish the most: relaxing, being lazy, and still never get sick of each other.

I also finally got to see one of my favourite comedians live on stage. She kind of disappointed me, as I knew she was funnier whenever I saw her on TV, but nevertheless, it was unforgettable to experience her on stage after wanting this so much for such a long time.

May
I love to call this the month of highlights.

Highlight No. 1:
I would be seeing another of my favourite comedians on stage, and although I already knew his programme, I was almost peeing myself laughing. That guy, Kaya Yanar is absolutely hilarious and I think I will be back for his new programme next year.

Highlight No. 2:
I would finally be seeing the german version of “We Will Rock You” on stage again after over 5 years. If anyone had told me that that first visit after all these years on May, 3rd, wouldn’t be the last one of the tour, I’d probably would’ve laughed. Loud. Little did I know. So little. The show blew me away more than I can tell you. Everything about it was mindblowing, the Cast was the best german Cast I had ever seen (apart from the “Tarzan” one, maybe), the songs brought up again all my love for the german version….long story short, I was back in love with my favourite show of all time. No surprise then, that I already went back on May, 17th, is it?

Highlight No. 3:
The Asylum Europe 4 Convention in Frankfurt – a Supernatural Convention, organized by Rogue Events, and the third one of theirs that I attended. I’m not gonna lie: it was the best weekend of my entire life. I had never laughed so hard with friends as I did that weekend. We had the best guests any Supernatural Fan could wish for (seriously, though: Ty Olsson – holy crap. Never liked him on the show, basically because I never understood a word he was saying. But seeing him in real, on stage, at the autograph tables…god, that man is a GOD. He’s sexy as hell and the funniest American I ever had the pleasure to meet. Totally in love with him now. No regrets. And of course, Kim Rhodes, biggest fangirl ever herself, tops even the creepiest Supernatural fan by far…and still is the most lovable person you will ever meet!), and honestly, even if I don’t talk to any of the girls anymore that I spent the whole weekend with (except for one) – it was the best weekend I ever had in my entire life. I felt accepted, I felt liked and I felt like I belong somewhere. I miss that time dearly (not the horrible goodbye from my wonderful friends Susie & Jaynee after the Closing Ceremony, though), and even if we don’t have to say anything to each other anymore: I also somehow miss the girls. They were and are amazing, and it was an absolute honour to spend three entire days with them. (If you see this: Angii, Becky, Justine, Vanessa, Claudia & Laura – THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart.)

Highlight No. 4:
The first Road Trip ever with my 4 girls to Hamburg to see “Tarzan” (they hadn’t seen it yet at that point) and do some sightseeing and simply have a good time together before one of them, my closest friend here, Mimi, would leave for Korea for 2 years. I won’t lie, the weather was the shittiest I had ever experienced on a “holiday” (seriously, “it’s raining cats and dogs” was nothing compared to the shitstorm that we endured that weekend), it was exhausting, partly embarassing (for me, to be honest; you might have noticed, if you read this blog before, that I turn into a massive fangirl whenever I am near a Stage Door, I don’t care about anyone or anything then), but all in all, SO worth it. Each of my girls absolutely adored and loved the show, and the goosebumps we all got while watching it was proof enough of it. It was the last time I saw the show before it moved to Stuttgart 5 months later, and I still cherish every single moment of that last day. And I was happy I could make my friends somehow understand why I loved that Musical so much.

June
The month I like to call the “Crazy WWRY month”. 6 shows in two and a half weeks, new friends made, spending time with the best and nicest german Cast I have ever met, including a heartbreaking Dernière on June, 30th (=Closing Show). Until that moment I barely had cried so much in my life than in that last show; the last 4 songs somehow passed by in a blur, I couldn’t sing, I couldn’t clap, I couldn’t cheer up to the people on stage that have found their way into my heart so fast and easily. Every single of these last shows were special in its own ways, with insane vocals, tears, breathtaking performances by each and everyone of them, and the group of fans coming from all parts in Germany….until that point, I had never experienced such a supportive and dedicated fanbase, and I am proud that I have been a part of it for 2 months.
 

July
Birthday month! I turned 27 this year, but nevertheless, I was excited like a 6-year-old for the first time in years. Mostly due to the fact that I would be spending the two days before and one day after it in my favourite town: LONDON. Plus another “We Will Rock You” show on the 23rd and my birthday show at “Rock Of Ages” – for reasons, of course. I haven’t been seeing that show for over 10 months when I went back, and I never thought I would ever again, due to the move to the Garrick, the ticket prices that had gone up since last year and the problem that I had no one to join me. But as it happened, twitter brought me together with two lovely little girls from England: Sarah & Alison. They had decided to spent my birthday together with me, as I would be on my own in London, and what can I say, it was an unforgettable time, thanks to them. I got my Simon Lipkin birthday hug, my Nathan Amzi birthday High-Five (he’s born on the same day as me, crazy) and last but not least, Simon Lipkin aka Lonny called me up to his dressing room at the end of Act 1 in “Rock Of Ages”. That day herald the start of the most amazing half year of my entire life. Oh, and apart from that, entire London went totally nuts to the news that Prince George had been born. Totally went under the radar for me, I wonder why…

In retrospect it now seems as if the quiet August that followed was much needed, considering what would be following until the end of the year. I think my subconscious somehow tried to regain strength and save it for the upcoming events. Or maybe it was just the fact that I simply couldn’t afford a trip to London every month because then I probably would have to have slept under a bridge until the end of the year. Who knows.

September
Another birthday month, yay! Not mine, of course, but the one of Alison & Sarah. I wasn’t there when Ally celebrated her birthday in London, but I was as Sarah did 10 days later. I made a bad choice of a hostel on Russell Square (although it had free WiFi and it was quite close to Piccadilly Circus, but god, those STAIRS), walked way too much again, and of course, we went to see “We Will Rock You” together on Sarah’s actual birthday day and “Rock Of Ages” the day after. The WWRY night was absolute surreal and one of the most hilarious I experienced in my entire life (I will just mention the band that thought the birthday badges Sarah wore on her boobs were biscuits they stared at througout the entire show and of course Oliver Tompsett going “What nice big badges you have there!”). My night was absolutely made when the wonderful Alison caught Scott Monello, my very 1st Galileo at the Dominion in September 2012, before he could leave the Stage Door. I love this man to bits and finally meeting him was one of the most precious moments of my year 2013.

“Rock Of Ages” was another story. Can’t say anything else but how much I kept falling in love with this show and cast although I already knew it by heart. The two shows on the 21st were electrifying, and the best thing happening that day was that I finally got to meet the beautiful sunshine that is Noor, one of the RoAdie-Family. We were sat right next to each other, and what can I say: experiencing my favourite West End show right next to a RoAdie, to a friend, is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. Dylan Turner, who played Drew that day was breathtaking, so was everyone else, and I am more than proud I was part of the audience that day.

October
You’ll be absolutely surprised now when I tell you that two weeks after I had already been in London, I went back. Not? Alright then, was worth a try. It started with the most horrible and expensive train journey of my entire life, making me almost miss my “Rock Of Ages” matinee, but somehow (please don’t ask me why, because I still don’t know how I magically survived that) I made it after all. This time there were three highlights waiting for me and one I didn’t even know would be happening.

1. From Here To Eternity at the Shaftesbury
2. Rock Of Ages (shocking, huh?)
3. We Will Rock You

I have been watching out for “From Here To Eternity” since it had been announced that this new show would start at the Shaftesbury at the end of September. For me, being hugely interested in the Third Reich, and also, the story of “Pearl Harbor” (yes, I admit it, partly due to the movie, but come on, you gotta love Ben Affleck in that, and the music and the drama), it was a must-see for me. I went together with two other RoAdies, Ann & Mandy, and although our seats were not the best ones (B8, 9 & 10, at the far end of the row, with people constantly coughing and moving their heads infront of us the entire time although they were sitting in the FRONT ROW), it was a beautiful and at least for me, magical experience. That show totally got me under its spell, with the actors, the costumes, yes, even the love songs (everyone who knows me knows how much I despise love movies or songs), the entire storyline. I already can’t wait to hopefully be back in April 2014 for a 2nd visit.

“Rock Of Ages” was surprisingly good…okay, no big surprise there. It was wonderful to see Ross Hunter again, the smiley face that I had last seen 3 months before. The moment Nathan Amzi took a picture of me with Simon Lipkin probably will forever be one of my favourites in the history of Stage Door visits, due to the fact that I got to stand next to my boy a lot longer than usual (because the poor Steph who was at there with me had problems with my camera first) and him pulling me closer into him just before Nathan took the photo. I am that insane, I know. Plus, I finally met the adorable Rocky, the puppy of Tim Howar. Totally in love with him although I still prefer cats before dogs. And forever will, you just gotta love cats.

The “We Will Rock You” Cast Change…long story short: it was emotional. Heartbreakingly emotional. It was the day we had to say goodbye to so many amazing people, and three certain ones: Rachel John, Emma Hatton…and my Scott Monello. Alison, who was with me that night, and me were already a sobbing mess during “Radio GaGa” (the first song, for god’s sake), and we were done by the time “(No-One But You) Only The Good Die Young” started. That entire show was breathtaking, and the vocals of Oliver Tompsett were the best I had ever heard of anyone on stage; the audience was absolutely on fire, being part of that crowd that sung along with “Bohemian Rhapsody” as loud as they could…I can’t find words for it. The appearance of the one and only Mr. Brian May kind of made this night even more perfect, when he came up on stage during the guitar solo of “Bohemian Rhapsody”. It was wonderful all in all, I got to talk to a lot of Cast members way more than I had ever before – despite the crowd at the Stage Door that was insane – and I enjoyed every second of it.
 

Which made me the happiest person this planet, no, this universe has ever seen and will ever see is the fact that by pure coincidence, one of my closest friends, Susie, was in London at the same time I was (she’s from Scotland). We spent wonderful 6 hours together before she had to leave for home again, but that moment I finally got to hug her again after 5 almost unbearable months not being able to see and spent time with her…no words. Nothing will ever make me happier than that moment did.

November

This was the month I feared the most since it was the month were “Rock Of Ages” would close forever. It is also the month I cherish the most because despite all the tears and my breakdowns that last weekend in London for 2013, it was also the month I got to know and meet the wonderful Laura & Ali and felt the biggest support of an entire group of people/fans that I had ever experienced, although I met a lot of them for the very first time. It was madness when all the box offices were out of order for over three hours, it was madness when we all sang along for Natalie Andreou  when she broke down during “More Than Words”, and it was madness in general. There was so much love before, during and after the show that I can’t really put it into words. That’s why I’m going to let the pictures speak for themselves.

To have some chance to distract myself from my favourite show closing, I decided to go and see “The Commitments” the day after, and I have to say: it was good. Not the best thing I’ve ever seen and I think nothing that I need to see twice (hands down: I have never been and never will be a Soul person), but it was wonderful to finally see Ian McIntosh on stage, in a lead role, because I can’t say anything else than that he was breathtaking. Absolutely breathtaking.

December
Quiet month. Still recovering from half a year of travelling to the UK & Hamburg and back, 10 “Rock Of Ages” shows, 7 german “We Will Rock You” shows, 2 UK “We Will Rock You” shows, 1 “From Here To Eternity” show & 1 “The Commitments” show, including going through 2 heartbreaking Closing shows. Not even to speak of my bank account that was desperately in need of recovering. I’m not even kidding, the joke with sleeping under a bridge became quite scaringly real for quite a while.
Before this amazing year ended for good, there still was one thing that made this year absolutely perfect: I fulfilled myself one of my long-cherished dreams and finally got a tattoo on my right wrist on December, 23rd, the day before Christmas. It’s dedicated to “Rock Of Ages”, which has helped me through this year and the message that is behind its last song, “Don’t Stop Believin'”.

Because if there is one thing I have learned in 2013, it is that no matter how hard life gets, no matter how many times you get kicked down, how many times you’re let down, you should never stop believing that one day it will all get better. That one day, the sun will shine for you again, too, and you will realize it was all worth it.

On that note: HAPPY NEY YEAR 2014! May it be filled with loads of laughter, love, success & health for all of you!

The thing with long-distance things…

…is that they are happening between two or more people having a long distance thing between them. Isn’t that the picture perfect example of logic?

Many people won’t agree with me. Most of them think that long-distance things don’t work, especially when it’s a relationship between a guy and a woman. Most of them will say that one day the thought of not being together with someone, of not being able to see the other one, to touch them, will be unbearable, so that you will go out, meet new people, probably cheat on your partner and boom – relationship over, killed by distance. Which you will always blame, it would be too easy to just admit that this person is just a screw-up who has no understanding of “trust” whatsoever. Or who is not capable or too scared of a relationship.
Same goes for long-distance friendships. People will always say you can’t hold up a friendship just over the internet or the phone, without being able to hang out at a Bowling Center, in a club, in a café and just chat away like “normal” people do. There will always be someone claiming that the need of going out, doing things with people your age is some sort of “birthright”, “primeval need” and that one day the people living far away, that you always called “friends” will find someone else to fill the void you opened up inside of them. And before you can even blink, they’re gone.

Well, I have never been in any sort of relationship at all, but I have been in a lot of long-distance friendship, and in some way, I can agree. But mostly, I totally disagree. Sure, it is hard. Only talking to a friend that means so much to you over the phone every now and then, especially if that friend lives in totally different time zone, not being able to spontaneously text them to meet up in town – it’s hard.
I know what I am talking about, because currently, my one closest friend I have here in Düsseldorf is living in Korea with her husband since September 2013, and she won’t be really be home again until the middle of 2015. Our time zones are so screwed up that she is 8 hours ahead of me right now, and when I get up in the morning, she almost gets ready to go to bed again, and due to the fact that we both work all day it is even harder to keep up contact. We try, however, to talk via Skype every now and then, and it always is as if we’ve never been apart. With her being gone, it is like there is a huge part of me missing; when she was still here, we almost met up every two days, even if it was only walking around the city, or going to our favourite Coffee Shop – we almost saw each other daily. It is weird hearing her voice over the phone and not being able to hug her or anything, to hear her opinion on clothes I find in a shop or whatever. Especially this time of year, when we used to hang out together and bake christmas cookies together (alright, not really a tradition, but when we did that for the first time last year, I had planned to make it a tradition), I feel the void inside of me growing bigger every day. I miss her more than I can say, more than it probably seems to her, but I do. She’s a part of me, and with her gone, part of me is gone. She will, however, be back in Germany for at least 3 weeks in 11 days, and I plan on using that short time as much as I can.
Then, my former best friend lives 5 hours away from me, and not having her close to me when we were the best friends anyone could wish for was the hardest thing in my entire life. I sat at home a lot of times, crying at the walls because I wanted her here so much. Time has changed that, sadly, and I even kind of blame the internet and my fear of losing her, that today, we aren’t best friends anymore. But we talk every now and then, and I know it will always be that way now. And what can I say: she’s still important to me in some way, and I will always cherish the time we had back then, deep down in my heart.
My current “best” friend lives 4 hours away from me, in the north of Germany. We see each other every 3 months (it started accidentally, but we’ve discovered it really is every 3 months that I’m visiting her or she comes down here), and it’s safe to say we almost talk/text daily. There’s never this embarassing silence between us – ever – and she’s the one who I can be who I am, the crazy, freaky, slightly obsessed with certain things person without feeling weird or stupid. I love just sitting on a couch with her, watching some TV or movie or series, doing nothing at all. We have insider we laugh about all the time. Just her presence in my life is enough to make me feel safe and happy. Of course we both have our lifes with our jobs and friends here, and she has her boyfriend and family, and a huge lot of times, I feel like punching something or screaming because I couldn’t just spontaneously go and see her in town, hanging out with her. But she’s one of the few persons I feel absolutely safe with saying that this friendship is made for forever. 4-hour traindrive or not.

I also have 8 people in my life that I actually call very good friends, who live all over the UK, two of them in Scotland, and these two I only see once a year – if I’m lucky. My panic of getting on a plane probably doesn’t help alot with that matter. Anyways, I won’t tell you it’s easy not being able to see them or hanging out with them, because it is more than hard. I see them hanging out with each other every now and then, having fun, and I feel left out. Sure, with some I text with almost every day, or sometimes, on the phone, and with others, I talk every now and then and I love it. But I feel I am missing out on a lot in their life, and for me, it’s the worst thing because it feels they are drifting away, that life shoves them into a new, a different direction. And the fact that I am neither very patient nor faithful or confident enough doesn’t really make it better. Hands down: long-distance friendships don’t work without this feeling every now and then. And if it does then you’re probably doing it wrong or are just amazingly strong.

But this all doesn’t matter. Because the moment that you see them again – after a few weeks or months or sometimes, even years – is one of the best you will ever have. The moment you spot them at a train station or at a theatre or at a café or whatever, the moment you see them and cross the pavement or the room to get to them and then, finally, get to hug them again – that moment is absolutely invaluable. You smile at each other, you laugh with each other, and you chat away like you have never been apart for a day. You make the best of the moment, of the time you share with these people that you barely see, and of course, when the moment comes to say goodbye, you’re probably fighting back tears, you’re making promises to not let it be so long again until you see each other again – a promise that in most cases can’t be kept because it’s always life that gets in the way. But the first moment you see them again somewhere, the moment you hold these friends in your arms – it makes up for all the pain you feel while being apart from them, for all the deprivations you live with, for all the times you sat at home, sad, crying, because you missed them around you so damn much.

People tell me to go look for friends here in my city, close to me, but the fact is: I won’t. For once, I am awful at making new friends, I am shy and too scared to make a bad impression. And second, I kind of just don’t want to. Because then I would soon lose the knowledge of this warm, fuzzy feeling when I finally see a long-distance friend again after a long time. To some people it must sound absolutely nuts that in most cases, I would probably always choose a long-distance friendship over a “normal” friend (or the wannabe psychologists would claim I am just scared of closeness).

I don’t care. I love each one of the people I talked about in here, and I will probably always do, if they like it or not. It will never be easy, but the thought of that one invaluable moment keeps me going. And I hope it does the same for the people on the other side of these friendships.