Strange enlightenments are vouchsafed to those who seek the higher places.

I'm at my "workplace" and that's what it is looking like atm. Okay, at least the corner where I'm sitting. It's cosy, I just had five clients in seven hours, I can prepare my university stuff here and am even allowed to laze around without shoes. Sounds great, but there's a fly in the oinment (haha, my new favourite saying!): I don't get paid. And though I mostly were short on money it was never that hard than today. Another problem is time since university is demanding a lot of it these days. And that silly "friend" who told me to definitely get me the job of my dreams at his institute I just had to wait some weeks, the secretary would be slow... I was waiting and waiting and when realised he just fooled me.

In fact I'm into some serious research here - or at least pretending to be.  I like that book as well as I like Flann O'Brien and my seminar but I don't know if I will make it to finish  The Dalkey Archive and prepare a decent presentation until Tuesday since I will have a busy weekend - not partying, but guests, twice demonstration against hunting, some help for a friend, and a Hindi- German session with my language exchange partner. Actually I need Tamil but haven't found any Tamil tandem and he said he'd also recommend Hindi for my purpose. By the way, there is also a smaaaaaaaall piece of a piece of cake on a plate to see on the picture above. Yeah, bad out-take. It's a piece of one of the cakes I prepared for yesterday's Christmas evening - a simple but colorful one with sugar icing, and a big chocolate-rum-coconut cake, all of them of course vegan as well as the cocoa I brought. Oh yes, I'm always such a darling and a big spender. Too bad I had to leave the event earlier to be in time for the Juli Zeh reading and just got back to clean the mess the guests made. But Juli Zeh was worth it, indeed a funny and very likable author. Maybe I will also dare to read her new book Nullzeit though it didn't sound that interesting in the first instance.

- The quotation in the caption is from Flann O'Brien's The 3rd Policeman, one of my other current reading matters. Like all my headings it does not have to make any sense related to the text.

Prokrastination ist...

... wenn man so unter Stress und Leistungsdruck leidet, dass man sich erstmal Fotolovestories auf BRAVO.de durchlesen geht.

Tritratrallala.

So. Ich wollte auch mal was posten, wenn ich nicht gerade an einer Abgabe sitze. Und tatsächlich hatte ich auch einiges an "Material" gesammelt, um Texte zu schreiben. Nicht nur Ideen, sondern sogar Fotos! Wie es aber so kam, hatte ich fast die ganze Woche nur mein langsames Netbook zur Hand, wenn ich endlich Zeit hatte. Und wenn ich doch an meinem schnelleren, besseren, gut bestückten Laptop sein konnte, so wie jetzt zum Beispiel, dann hatte ich keine Zeit, wirklich etwas zu schreiben - so wie jetzt eigentlich auch. Gleich geht's ab, denn um 18 s.t. müsste ich bei einer Freundin sein, zu einer veganen Plätzchenbacksession. Alles natürlich Geschenkplätzchen, keine Bauchvollschlagplätzchen. 

Ansonsten war ich diese Woche bei zwei Lesungen, das erste Mal seit Ewigkeiten in Hildesheim, habe den Präsidenten interviewt, mit einer "meiner Gruppen" Weltverbesserungspläne geschmiedet, die nächste Woche in die Tat umgesetzt werden, "Es war einmal... der Mensch" beendet und "... die Entdeckung unserer Erde" begonnen und mich dann leider auch unter einer Migräne vor der Welt versteckt, die mich immer noch nicht verlassen will. 

Hello World...

...  who you'll never read these lines. Hello unknown person from Lithuania who just stumbled across my blog some minutes ago - or maybe bearded nosy guy from Germany with an IP adress changer who likes to stalk me, we'll maybe never know. On any account: Hello!

Yes, certainly: I'm here, so I have a deadline for tomorrow. Of course not, no, I haven't finished it yet.

What to say.... Hm, yes. I made up my mind. I treat Harmonise bad, that's okay. But since I will (try to) keep a diary blog anyway during my stay abroad, it can also be this one. And so I have to get back to blogging writing strange uninteresting stuff.

So, people who go astray here, bearded stalkers and also the few people I rarely force to read my entries: What do you want me to write about? Not as a future topic for the whole Harmonise thingie, I mean once, occasionally, ... Actually it would help me a lot. Ask questions, make suggestions, ... always, not with a deadline. (Huh, deadline? War da etwas?)

For sure, I'll never ever have a real topic here. The topic wasn't even my life. That's the only thing I could/would change. Or will.

To bearded stalkers with love:

"Heute Morgen erwachte ich als Wunschkind"

Not really, I woke up noticing I overslept and had to hurry, worse than yesterday - I woke up noticing I overslept and my life won't be the same without Heinz Gut, but who the fuck is Heinz Gut, which role did he (or she; after all this is a queer feminist blog in disguise) play in my life before and why didn't I realise him* before if he* should be that important to me? Actually I'm writing these useless lines because I have to finish some stupid bibliography-crap for university which isn't really that stupid or crappy, but it's enough for my tender heart, I need something to distract me from the wish to kill someone. Of course, why ever should I (start updating again) update again?

http://soundcloud.com/hansunstern/entweder-oder

And hey, T., if you read this: Ich trete dir sowas von in die Eier!

Another day in Schlauraffen Land

Today, mensa waiting line: two 40+ yo ppl talk about vegetarians - she's one. He admires her for that, but says how extrem and strange vegans would be - and illogical: Eggs and milk would be presents, totally natural. Yeah, it's so natural that male chicks die in shredders some minutes after they hatch and dairy factories exist, where cows with overbred high-output udders have to be pregnant their whole life to give milk without ever seeing one of their children and than get slaughtered after a fractional amount of their lifespan because they're not profitable enough. Yes, of course, this happens also every day in the wilderness, totally natural. The animals want it to be like that and abuse and kill themselves for you, as a present. 

By the way: My browser is no longer supported by blogger? I'm using FireFox on my netbook. What does that shit mean? Does blogger want me to regret I didn't choose Wordpress as I started Hamronise in w/b?!

The Dull Age

No, I do not only listen to Tropic of Cancer when I feel like this... They so grew on me in the last months.