Der Himmel über Berlin

This morning, I woke up flying - last day of camp, hit the weekend running, back into Monday with a normal crash, a normal bang, a normal wallop. Normal, and wonderful because of that.

This hit me, hit us with a very abnormal wallop that no-one had been expecting.

I don't know what to say.

Survivor's guilt, sure, but mostly surprise that all the blubber that has been wallowing around the news over that last weeks has actually come, BANG, and hit here. BANG.

People I really care about are gone, and it is nobody's fault. There is no-one to blame. I find that hard to accept.

Life, despite fucking everything, goes on.

...and the next four.

Babysitter.
Mosquito killer.
Nice voice.
Ultimatums.
Can I?
Well, can you?
Eat something.
Be quiet.
Pony hair.
Stephen sandwich.
Being an adult while being a kid.
Organise this.
Organise that.
Organise the other.
Break it.
Hahahahahahahahaha!
No running.
I need to run.

See you Monday.

Week 42 2006 was just about the best of my entire life.

Week 42 2007 was definitely one of the worst.

Week 42 2008, I am absolutely elated to report, is about to pass without a single life-changing event.

I cannot even begin to explain how good that feels.

It definitely deserves a song.

I've been thinking for the last few weeks about what to write in this post. There have been a lot of ideas rolling around my head, most of them were some sort of strange slant on the idea of poverty that would probably not have occurred to many people and would probably not have made much sense.

But then, this morning, I asked myself why the hell I was so determinedly avoiding the idea of just talking about POVERTY. No slants, nothing unusual, just poverty.

The answer? Because I don't know what it is.

Sure, I have the mental picture of the starving kid with flies buzzing around his head, or the homeless guy on a park bench covered by newspapers. A mental picture is all it is though. Someone else's pictures projected into my head by TVs, computers, mass media - the very things symbolic of my own relative affluence.

Of course, there are times when I have to be frugal. That means not going to a football game, or not heading off on some whimsical trip somewhere. I don't know what it is like to have to struggle to survive. I don't even know anyone who knows what it is to face poverty on a daily basis. I teach English to wealthy professionals and their kids, I translate for successful companies. There is no part of my life whatsoever that is touched in any way by poverty.

I'm ashamed of that. And I think I am not alone. And, excuse the disgusting, pathethic idealism, I want to change the world. Or, failing that, just someone's world. Maybe even just mine, just so I can rationalise and understand if nothing else.

Yes, winter is coming. Can't deny it any further. It's dark when I wake in the morning and is dark again by the time I get home. Kickable leaves everywhere. More people on the trains. An abundance of grey clouds everywhere, especially on the weather forecasts.

It's getting to the time of year when you don't want to be standing outside for prolonged periods of time, especially when you have paid for it in the hope of seeing a decent game of football. I am learning, slowly but surely, that Berlin is a good football vacuum. While watching Hertha accept the 0-1 defeat gently handed to them by the Bundesliga's bottom side a couple of weeks ago, I decided that something had to change.

The 'Upcoming Live Football' bloglist has been replaced by an 'Upcoming Live Entertainment' bloglist.

Yes, that's right, I am abandoning* the fickle world of live football, where no enjoyment is guaranteed and you actually go there expecting to have a miserable time, for the bright shining lights, and more importantly, the warmth and guaranteed enjoyment one can enjoyably enjoy at an enjoyable venue with enjoyable music playing.

The changeover started last weekend, when Jenny Lewis played one of the best live shows I have ever seen. I cannot remember the last time I really, really had fun at a football game. So there, decision justified already.

*of course I haven't abandoned going to football. Don't be silly.

Is it possible to be both drunk and hungover at the same time?

I'm going with a yes on this one.

Yesterday I woke up at 1500, when a friend called me because he thought he had just seen me cycling past him. This caused me to remember that my bicycle had been stolen the previous night, and the reason for my thunderous headache was the fact that the only constructive thing I could think of doing on discovering Arthur's disappearance was to drink very heavily.

Luckily I had a colleague to help me in this noble quest. So noble, in fact, that it resumed within fifteen minutes of waking up. After all, there were two beers left in the fridge that had somehow slipped through the net of the previous night.

Off we set to the other end of town, to the dude that built Arthur for me, boozing all the way. He's going to make me a new bike, and maybe this one will have functioning brakes.

Still though, as I was drinking I still had all the telltale signs of a hangover - throbbing head, dry mouth, insatiable appetite for döner kebabs. All this while feeling pleasantly intoxicated.

It is possible. However, feel free to present counter-arguments.

Just can't resist this fecker any more.

Whats your name backwards?
Nehpets

Name some lines from the song you are listening to?
If you sing a song
Sing a song for them

Gay or Straight?
Pretty much just straight.

What goes on your toast?
Pesto, ham cheese

What's the seventh text message in your inbox say?
"I can read you like a book! No joking, I sent that text to 12 people and I was 99% sure that you would respond with 'why would I want to text you'. I'll give you an email shout in a few weeks, hope all going well. Cheers"

Has someone groped you in the past week?
I was at a concert the other day and I think someone accidentally brushed up against me, does that count?

Lily Allen or Kate Nash?
Don't know who either of them are...

Last person to call you babe?
I not the sort of person you call babe. Still, I think Peju and Alyssa do anyway on occasion

I say ‘Jump!’, you say?
Sure!

Whats the top played song on your MP3 player?
Good Arms v Bad Arms by Frightened Rabbit

Who did you last hold hands with?
Can't remember. I hope it wasn't who I think it might be

Who would you like to meet?
No-one anyone knows

Funniest thing that happened today?
Me just being generally hilarious, as I usually am

Are you insane?
You're not going to get me with that one, I've read Catch-22

What's on your bedside table?
Don't have one, but my phone, glasses and a book usually lie on the floor beside my bed

How many piercings do you have?
None. I don't want any either, I would be terrified of getting them caught on something and pulling off a lump of skin

What's one of your favourite quotes?
A man of genius makes no mistakes. His errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.

Have you ever kissed anyone who's name started with a S or N?
I think so and yes.

Is this year the best year of your life?
No. Probably wouldn't even make it into the top five, to be honest

Ninjas or Pirates?
Don't care

Where do you want to go right now?
Nowhere really

Who do you want to go with?
No-one in particular

Do you hate My Chemical Romance?
I don't know anything about them, so no. Still, apathy can be worse than hate

What do you want from life?
Drink, feck, arse, girls.

When did you last do sex?
I'm going to ignore the obvious and just say sometime in July. Or was it June?

What's your nickname and why?
Don't really have one, I wouldn't call 'Steve' a nickname

Anything written on your hand?
I have a lot of freckles on my hands, if you were stubborn you could argue that they might form patterns that could be letters.

Could you run the Country?
Yeah, but Kiel to Munich is pretty far, I'm sure I'd get tired and need to rest a lot.

What are your favourite names?
I like Irish names. For a boy, Tadgh, for a girl maybe Siobhan. I also like my sister's name, which is very Irish but if I had a daughter I wouldn't call her it since I wouldn't want my sister to think that it was named after her.

Have you ever punched a hole in the wall?
Of course not, I'm a pussy.

Name a good song.
The most played one on my iPod probably counts

Where's your sister?
Dublin.

Have you got balls?
Do you mean balls for sports or testes? I have both.

How would you react if someone kissed you right now?
Initially with surprise, then by returning the compliment

Wheres the weirdest place you’ve peed?
My pants. Oh, wait no, in a bin. Actually, let's not get into this.

Are you scared of Cows?
Anything with that many stomachs is not to be trusted.

Anything else to add?
No, I've got a calculator.

Was reading through a text with some students the other day when we came across this part:

In the eighteenth century, 'manliness' was very different from what it is today...a true gentleman showed that he had feelings by crying frequently in public. According to one story, when the British Prime Minister, Lord Spencer Percival came to give King George IV some bad news, both men sat down and cried!

For some reason, this reminded me of an incident about two years ago in my German class. There was a Lebanase guy and an Albanian kid in the class, and when the teacher asked us, as a conversation starter if we ever cry, the two froze up. No, never. Never never never.

I, of course, happily told everyone that I cry all the time, which I do. I cried when my best friend left Berlin a month ago, I cried when I bust my ankle cos I thought I wouldn't be able to go to the Alps, I cried for about six bloody months last winter, I cry because of football with almost alarming frequency.

Still, with a little bit of encouragement, we got the two guys to open up.

The Lebanese guy, it turned out, cried once in his life and it was when he had to deliver a baby using only a kitchen knife.

The Albanian guy also only cried once, when he saw his dog blown to bits by a landmine. His brother, who was with the dog, was also caught in the blast, but survived.

I always knew I was old-fashioned.

Several news agencies this morning are reporting the shock retirement from football of 1.FC Gesundbrunnen's right winger S------- G-------.

Speculation has been rife for weeks now that G-------, 24, never sufficiently recovered from an ankle injury sustained in June. As recently as last Sunday, G------ was forced to leave the field of play for treatment on his troublesome left ankle. Although he later rejoined play, he was clearly a couple of yards off the pace of the game and was lacking his usual dynamism and aggression as his team slumped to a last-minute defeat.

Rumours that G------- was responsible for dressing-room disagreements were never officially confirmed or denied by the 1.FC GSB board of management, although a number of contacts close to G-------are believed to be upset at the effect that his relationship with another member of the unisex squad have had on team morale. Whether his retirement can restore dressing-room unity remains to be seen.

G------- retires with the incredible record of having scored in every single 1.FC GSB game that he appeared in, a record stretching back as far as the foundation of the club in May 2008. Despite excellent form at club level, he has been repeatedly snubbed by new Republic of Ireland boss, Giovanni Trapattoni. The final nail in the coffin of G-------'s non-existant international career came in August, as he called Trapattoni "a wrinkly old Milanista bastard".

Reporters have been camped around G-------'s central Berlin home all morning, desperate for a glimpse of the controversial star despite there being rumours that he has gone to Lithuania to escape the media scrum.

Hopes remain, however, that G-------is simply taking time out to recover fully from his injury and will return in an egomaniacal blaze of glory in the New Year, especially since a Lufthansa employee recently leaked that G-------will be travelling to India in the near future, possibly to experiment with yoga or voodoo in an attempt to overcome his injury nightmare.