From 642 Tiny Things To Write About
Write the title of your autobiography. To be continued... What is your tiny pearl of wisdom? Failure can only make you stronger. Your last word before you die (Hopefully) You The person you want to see least. My former friend from High School, I think. Though it's weird. I consider myself to not want to see many people, which is one reason why I love London. No one knows me here and the big city gives me anonymity. However, I also do not have ONE person at the moment I would feel mortified seeing at the moment because I am in quite a good place, I think, and do not have anyone in particular who freaks me out so much I would be petrified to see them in the street, but I think she's still the first person I really don't have to see.
0 Comments
Time is ticking on and my year in the UK has nearly come to a close...but not yet!
At the moment I am working a lot because the children have holidays (which means I don't get any) and the weekends are filled with me lying in bed, trying to recover from the week. N is gone now, too, which means I have no friend for the weekend to play with. This is what happens when you tie your leisure time to one friend - if this friend is gone you're f***ed. Also, because it is almost time to leave for me, I don't want to invest in a new friendship, nurture and tend it - only to leave in four weeks again (as if I could even find a friend in that amount of time, whom am I kidding??) Well, I am planning to go to Cambridge on one weekend, so something might happen there. Last weekend, N and I spent a day in London and went to Joe & The Juice, a juice bar around Leicester Square. The juices are very expensive (as everything healthy is), but it is really good and although I forgot to take a picture (silly me), they have lamps in there which are half inside the wall - which is pretty cool. We also hung out at Embankment which is always a good place to be on the weekends - it is probably the closest to a beach atmosphere. People are relaxed, artists perform and children cry. However, it started raining on the way back to Waterloo and I saw two hobos sitting just NOT under the bridge, begging for money. Believe me, I am not a person making fun of homeless people, quite the opposite, but why wouldn't they just move a couple of metres in, so the bridge would protect them from the pouring rain...well, I guess it wouldn't look quite so poor and pity-evoking... Yesterday, the children and I went to the Sea Life aquarium in London and it was like every Sea Life aquarium - disappointing. Seriously, has anyone ever been truly blown away by these aquariums? Tanks over tanks filled with boring, tiny fish which do not do anything and probably - if you're lucky - one remotely interesting tank. Admittedly, compared to other Sea Lifes (for instance Vienna), this one was much better as there were bigger sharks and aquariums but in the end, it was just fish swimming around and too many signs which you felt obliged to read (for 30 quid, you better do) but are damn boring. At least, as I was with the children, we went through the whole exhibition quite quickly and didn't linger at the boring parts. So, if you come to London, skip the aquarium and do something cooler like the London Dungeons, Madame Tussaud's or a Hop-on/Hop-off tour - it's better entertainment for the money - in my opinion. After we went to the aquarium, we found these cool benches around Embankment and I relaxed there – if you can call it relaxing. London’s atmosphere and art I will miss most because you just don’t find things like that in Austria – but I am sure I will come back in no time! I am sitting here in Radnor Cafe, close to the Thames, overlooking the playground and sipping my tea whilst picking out the raisins of my scone (seriously, the British and their raisin obsession...). Life is good, right? Well, it should be considering I have some time off, nice breakfast and a cup of tea; however, all I seem to be able to do is worrying about the future.
What is going to happen when I return to Austria? What if I don't find a job? What should I do with my life? What is wrong with me for pondering about the future all the time? etc, etc, etc.... I am a natural worrier (not to be confused with warrior) and I am apparently ruining my last month in the UK with worrying about my life in Austria which hasn't even started yet. Sometimes I wonder whether not knowing the future wouldn't be beyond blissful. Not knowing what is looming there, not pondering about love, career and problems. However, we don't even really know the future - which is somewhat worse. If I knew exactly what would happen, I could either dread it or look forward to it, but because we do not know exactly what is going to happen but do have an understanding of the future, all we are left to do is think about what might happen, which is the worst because it leaves so much space for hypotheses. All I am doing is mulling over things that might happen at some point, but most likely never will, and to go through various scenarios which will never happen because the thing that WILL happen, hasn't happened in my mind yet and most likely never will happen in my mind because it is the implausible in my mind which becomes the plausible in reality because reality normally works out in way we least expect, which makes preparing for the future redundant because what we assume will happen, will never happen and what does happen, has never occurred to us beforehand. Does that make sense? Is it too philosophical? Am I wrapping my head around unwrappable things? Either way, what I should do is stop obsessing about the future, right? To live in the present, but it is hard damn difficult and I am convinced in this very moment that the line between a gift and a curse is a very thin. Very thin, indeed. And by the way, it is (for once) not a typo in the heading, it is a blend of knowing and owning. No, I am not about to rant about city dwellers, I just happened to notice that apparently behaving like people in the city means disrespecting rules.
Honestly, think of TV shows, books, etc, in which a country bumpkin visits the big city and is laughed at by the townies for not bringing food in the tube, saying Hello to everyone and waiting at the traffic lights for the light to go green, before crossing. I myself could be described as a country girl. Most of my life I lived on a farm and the biggest city around me was Innsbruck, which I would not consider to be a metropolis or very urban. Generally, I am very respectful and polite - even for countryside. I don't put my feet on the bus seat (and not because manners forbid it but because I actually care about the person sitting there at some point). I only eat on trains or tubes when I am really hungry because it is really annoying when I reek of McDonald's just because the person next to me has a horrible sense of organisation and has to eat their Big Mac on the bus. So are townies more impolite? Probably not. Probably they just feel less observed in such a big area that they can be quite sure that whoever witnesses their inappropriate behaviour will never see them again. Probably it has nothing to do with city or country and it is just about me respecting other people more than most (she said in all humbleness). But I cannot deny that the city has changed me. I now also sometimes put my feet on the seat (partly because the English trains leave so little space for your legs that your knees are up to your chin if you don't stretch out to the next seat). Sometimes I even cross the street when it's red (which is stupid because you spend two minutes looking stressed from right to left to cross the road, wishing there was a system telling you when to go - oh, there is - before two scenarios happen: either you are so busy looking for cars right and left that you actually miss the traffic light jumping to green and end up being the last person crossing the road; or you take a chance, a car comes right the second you put your foot on the street and you have to jump back and endure the smirks of the other people waiting - so lose/lose, right?). Anyway, I do think the anonymity in a city gives you freedom for bending the rules, so townies, don't be mean to us country bumpkins for following the rules - you shouldn't be laughed at for that. The expectations for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child were, of course, huge and many fans required different components included or excluded from the plot.
I, however, do not feel like dictating Jo Rowling what she should write or not write, and to be honest, I didn't have specific expectations - I was just exhilarated that something else would come and expand the Potter Universe. I have already written about the script and that I wasn't sure whether I truly like it - now I can say I like it much better having watched the play. I don't think the book alone will do, as the script-written form is quite spartanic and the playfulness of Jo's writing is sorely missed; however, when you watch the play on stage, you can find these words brought to life in different ways and create magic - because it is truly magical. I have to admit I didn't feel exhilarated when I put down the book but I really enjoyed the play; although I still feel some plot developments are weird. However, I think it is a different medium of entertainment - theatre as opposed to a book, and naturally different devices are used to create atmosphere, tension and magic - devices which cannot come across in the written script as on stage. Fans have written Jo Rowling owed them a book and that some of them will not be able to see the play. First and foremost, Jo Rowling always made clear it would be a script and she wanted to make a play out of the story, so it is not her fault if some people cannot watch the intended medium of story-telling. Furthermore, I doubt that fans who really want to see the play cannot do so. I met people from all over the world at the theatre and I am also sure the play will run for years and will also come to Broadway - so calm down, people. After having been slightly disappointed by the book, I was really looking forward to the play and I can only say I enjoyed it beyond words, it was absolutely fantastic and I have never ever seen anything comparable in my life so far! Apart from the great actors and actresses and the fact that it was about Harry Potter, the stage effects were absolutely incredible! People transformed into other people in front of our eyes, Dementors flew through the audience and paper piled itself up. It was truly magical! Also the story worked much better as play and I am happy I could see it, even though I still don't like the plot twist that Voldemort had a daughter - it is just too far from what we've learnt in the seven Harry Potter books where Voldemort is repeatedly displayed as someone not even remotely interested in inter-human relationships of any sort. In my opinion, it would have sufficed to make Delphi (his daughter) simply a Voldemort-obsessed person who wanted the world to be purged of mudbloods - would have worked as well. Also, the Time-Turners were quite a convenient plot device, but, I mean, why not? The story is fast-paced, you hold your breath and the characters are credible - especially Ron, he was my absolute favourite! So funny and, well, Ron. But not only the play, also the people were great. I met two nice Americans who sat next to me and we also went together to the stage door and met the entire cast, got autographs and pics with them - which was amazing! The cast was so nice, took their time and we hugged, laughed and joked together. All in all, I loved the past Harry Potter weeks, although I am so exhausted and actually for me it was rather Harry Potter and the Eternal Queuing as in total, I queued about twenty hours when waiting for return tickets, waiting at the red carpet, waiting for the book, waiting to get in Part 1, waiting to get in Part 2, waiting for the cast to come out, etc, etc, etc... I think you should read it but you have to get tickets and go and watch it because it is beyond amazing and your mind will be blown that. That is not an assumption, but a promise. From 642 Tiny Things to Write About
Today's weather forecast, if the television station fired the current talking head and hired a poet. A gust... The wind is stroking your cheeks, softly So Softly. The rays of sunlight slowly greet the fog so shy they are...timid really, but a smile is spreading out... In the north where the cold-bloods dwell... rain, heavy, is pouring on their forlorn shoulders, The sun is fighting a lost battle - forlorn, lost, a memory... The sea...rough, strong...a further gust, the clouds are wandering aimlessly, their souls restless, the wind their carrying mother...on, on...a further gust As people already following this blog will know, I went to see Harry Potter and the Cursed Child yesterday and you will get a full report on how great it was tomorrow (careful, spoiler alert), but for tonight, I want to talk about something that actually bugged me on my theatre trip.
Theatre-going has apparently descended to the levels of cinemas. Yesterday the audience was admitted to one of the most anticipated plays ever in a beautiful, old theatre and people still showed up in jeans and chucks. I don't understand that - in our lives we get so little chances to dress up anyway, wouldn't you at least do that when you go to the theatre? I mean, you don't have to wear a prom dress, but make some effort, honestly. Behind me sat people from Iceland, or some country which had a similar-sounding language (I actually don't want to dwell on the fact where they came from or I will be considered racist for saying they were idiots - for the records, they weren't idiots because they came from [Please Insert Country] but because they were simply idiots). They were Harry Potter fans, no doubt, but they had no idea of etiquette, manners or respect. When the seats in front of them were not yet occupied, they parked their chucks and vans on them, which I find outrageous enough in the bus, but in the theatre it is unacceptable. Furthermore, they talked regularly during the show (actually reacting like four-year-olds, sucking air in literally when something exciting happened) and they wore ripped shirts and jeans. Seriously, some effort, please. Also, some people ate terribly loudly during the show, which is annoying enough in the cinema, but in the theatre it's just rude, so I am calling for a theatre revolution where you are not admitted at all, if you turn up like this - or to rephrase Sheldon Cooper's words from the Big Bang Theory "I won't say that all citizens who don't know how to behave in and dress for theatre should be publicly flogged. But, if we made an example of one or two it might give the others incentive to try harder." The next day, it didn't rain anymore and Drawde almost felt like in sunny London. She inhaled the sun deeply and also didn’t slip when she went to her car.
Whistling, she drove to school and when she heard the song Tell him what you think she decided on whim to take Alleb to task today and ask what his problem was. Probably he was simply in love with her and could only show her this way. That was another one of Drawde’s problems. All the boys who fell in love with her could only show her through aggression - such a shame. Drawde was very indignant when she went to biology class and Alleb wasn’t there. Far too late, she realised that she would only have biology in the fourth period and that this class wasn’t even hers. She blamed the teacher for not having informed her thusly and marched out, her nose in the air. Impatiently, she waited until the fourth period and entertained herself with taming rain worms. Mostly, they obeyed only when she accidentally strangled them to death or stepped on them. Eventually, the fourth period arrived. “Drawde, where have you been?” the girl asked, whom Drawde realised, was Erica. “I tamed rain worms”, she declared proudly and showed her the dead worm. “That one was naughty”, Drawde informed Erica quickly. “You missed class, Drawde.” Drawde shook her head vigorously. “Not true, didn’t you know that we only have biology in the fourth period and I was sitting in there with complete strangers.” “Drawde, first we had other classes. You missed four tests and an assignment.” “Ayayaya”, Drawde shouted out dramatically. “And it is all his fault.” “Whose fault?” Erica asked. Drawde sighed deeply. “Alleb’s. We wanted to meet in biology.” Erica raised one of her eyebrows curiously, Drawde wanted to be able to that, too. She tried for a minute but made a complete fool out of herself. “You wanted to meet?” Erica asked and interrupted Drawde’s deplorable eyebrow-lift-attempts. Drawde nodded promisingly and skipped the part in which only she wanted to meet him. Her prospects to be the coolest chick in the school were not going according to plan but meeting a pale, possibly anorexic, perfectly walking to the beat of Chariots of Fire, biology coming, hanging out with weird people, Alleb-called, possibly not anorexic but still not eating boy increased her chances deliberately, Drawde thought confidently. She always considered the glass to be half full, except if there was strawberry juice in said glass, which she didn’t like and was happy when it was finally half empty. Either way, Drawe was happy when biology class commenced, but this rush of happiness didn’t linger, as Alleb seemed to be gone without a trace. So Drawde sat in biology, boiling with anger and thought about what Alleb would have to do to make up for it. Then she remembered that this had not even been a real date and Alleb probably was just ill, but it was an impertinence nevertheless. An Alleb-less day went past and when Drawde drove home with the junker her father had given her, she couldn’t see the road being blinded by tears - some more monkeys killed, why were there so many monkeys around? She wondered. And they drove cars, too - irresponsible. The next days, Alleb stayed absent and Drawde assumed it had something to do with the mysteriously good weather. Why it had to be sunny when she wanted to talk to a pale boy, she didn’t understand and wrote a hate letter to Mother Nature. Now she had to hang around with the uncool people like Erica or Jessy. Their pathetic group had been enlarged by the boys Maik, Taylor and Angelo. They sat together in the cafeteria. “Oh, Drawde”, Maik was purring at the moment. “Although you look like someone who is only into mysterious men, I wonder whether you could condescend to handing over the milk.” Drawde only turned away contemptuously and left drooling Jessy to hand him the milk. Drawde was neither impressed nor flattered by the boys’ flirtatious behaviour as she knew she was a ten or more. Angelo and Taylor were also looking at her yearningly although Drawde demonstratively turned away and showed them the back of her hair. Suddenly, Taylor drew away Angelo’s chair without any obvious reason and the latter slumped on the floor. Taylor ran away as if stung by an adder and cackled endlessly. Such an idiot, Drawde thought as he - after completing this idiotic act - had said “my precious” and pointed at me - like in Lord of the Rings. Again, Drawde cursed the fact to be forced to hang out with such idiots and scanned the room, bored. She missed Alleb. Suddenly she realised that the other four people of the weird family were sitting at their table. Why hadn’t she noticed earlier? Well, whatever, they looked as if they were dating anyway, somehow like that, although they were siblings but Jessy most certainly had only mixed that up and the truth was that the only thirty year old Dr Fallen (the profession was chosen at random) had adopted them and they weren’t even related - there were things beyond weirdness. When Drawde was sitting in biology class a couple of days later, she was more than puzzled to find Alleb sitting next to her. Totally surprised, she turned to him and thereby threw her long hair over her shoulder. Unfortunately, she flung her hair ends into Alleb’s eyes, who screamed in pain. For a nanosecond, Drawde considered apologising, but that was beneath her, so she simply giggled. Alleb looked at her, annoyed, and then looked out of the window. Drawde beamed as she was sitting next to such a mysterious boy. “Do you like the rain?” Alleb then asked out of nowhere. Drawde blinked a couple of times too often, as she hadn’t been prepared for the question. “Er, no, I don’t like the wet and cold”, she read the sentence the teacher was writing on the blackboard. Better than no answer. Alleb smirked and Drawde nearly keeled over. Alleb had leant forward and pushed her and Drawde could only just so keep on to her chucks. “If you hate rain so much, why did you move to the place with the highest rainfall rate?” Alleb continued to interrogate her and had put on his nerd glasses for that reason. “WHAT?” Drawde shrieked. “This is the place with the highest rainfall rate. I need to leave.” Screaming, she hurled out of the classroom, but as the bell was ringing, no one noticed. The students of Spoons Highschool had got used to Drawde’s theatrical outbursts. In hindsight, Drawde wondered whether her reaction had been a teensy weensy over the top and swore to not shout out loud during classes henceforth (which was very hard for her - in English, she couldn’t avert it three times, but the teacher had ceased to wonder). So now Drawde was standing on the parking space and mulling over how to get closer to Alleb, when she heard tyres screeching and then a couple of things happened the same time:
“Oh my god, Oh my god”, she yelled. “You may call me Alleb”, he responded and she nodded reverently. “How did you do that”, she whispered breathlessly. “Do you have potential superpowers?” Alleb looked from right to left - very slowly. “Er, no, why would you think that?” “You just saved me.” “Shit happens, I will see you tomorrow.” He left. “I love rain”, she shouted after him and then remembered her vow to stop shouting about, but then she also remembered that that was only true for the classroom and so she screamed a couple of other things, too, like: Alleb is the greatest, in the name of Alleb’s father, Alleb’s son and the allebstish spirit, Jessy is a skank and Oh my dear, look at her coming out of the rabbit hole. At some point, she decided to go to the hospital at last, only to seem even more pathetic and helpless. “Say goodbye to your driving licence”, Charlie screamed to no one particular and sat down with Drawde, “You could have been dead”, he said and looked at his finger nails. Drawde bit her lip, as her father had just said the ominous sentence she had wanted to say. So she simply nodded and they drove home. It is a common question...probably one of the most profound after all, to ask whether someone is a Cat or a Dog Person.
I remember I was confused when people in films or books asked that question, as I considered both of them cute and good pets; however, now that I have lived with a cat in a house for a while, I can say without any doubt, that I am definitely a Dog Person. Don't get me wrong, I do not mind cats but compared to dogs I find them slightly arrogant, passive, boring and I hate their claws. All my jeans have been destroyed and that was when the cat wanted to be tender. Anyhow, we had cats when I was a child and then swapped to dogs when I was about six or seven. Timmy was our first dog and he was simply adorable. As everything my family does, we decided for the tough option - we didn't get a little puppy from a well-bred background without any terrible traumas involved, but went to the animal shelter and got Timmy (formerly known as Axel), who had been hit by his previous owner. He was still very young, but sometimes reacted aggressively when we cornered him (even if we only wanted to stroke him). When my hamster died, I got a pup (I know, I am good at making deals, I should do it professionally). She is Lilly and simply beyond amazing. She was the cutest puppy ever seen and I loved her fluffy ears and her little Mohawk on the back of her neck. But enough of rambling about how awesome my dogs are (we got Sofy after Timmy died and she is so cute, too) and let's move on to a revelation I had recently. The family I work for have a cat and although the cat surely has some nice attributes, I must say it's shaped my attitude towards cats quite, well, not so great. Anyhow, it is true, I must say, that there is such a thing as Cat and Dog People. Dog people are really like dogs - open, a bit goofy, extroverted, like to be around people, like having fun and care generally less about what other people think. I am not saying that everyone's the same and there are shy Dog People, but there are also shy dogs, but generally from their attitude to life, they are happier, bouncier and clumsier. Cat People, like cats, are more introverted, uptight, harder to access (and I mean emotionally, no dirty thoughts please), and generally more of loners, as I feel. I also bond quicker with Dog People, because they are just easier to get to. It's similar to instruments. Sometimes you meet a person and you know it's a Violin Person or a Guitar Person, you just know. You don't know why you know, but you're not surprised if they tell you they do. So, if you want, share on Facebook or here whether you're a Dog or Cat Person (no grudges) or whether you disagree with my theory. The weekend of the 30th to the 31st July was the ultimate Harry Potter weekend. The last Potter book being published in 2007, the release and premiere of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child was the most exciting event for Potter fans in years.
There was no official announcement whether there would be a gala event or red carpet for the premiere, but Saturday the 30th July found me travelling up to London in the early morning to wait around the Palace Theatre and secure the best spot for seeing what was going on. After two hours of circling the threatre like a lunatic stalker, about 250 wristbands were released for fans to watch the red carpet and I was Nr. 46 to get in! There, it was more waiting and I must say the red carpet disappointed me. We saw the mayor of London and MinaLima - the graphic designers behind Harry Potter - and there was this Andrew Scott guy who plays Jim Moriarty in the BBC Sherlock series, but apart from that there were no stars. We had all hoped to see some of the original HP cast, but they didn't show up. JK Rowling, however, did! I saw my biggest idol and role model, walking mere metres in front of me! I didn't get an autograph, which sucked, but as hardly anyone did, I can live with it. Here I have to say how important a good event manager is because whoever managed that event, was doing a poor job. Jo came far too late to sign anything because the stupid people beforehand took far too long, taking selfies and what. Jo had to be rushed through and left her dear fans sorely disappointed behind. Then, after the second part, we were promised she would come again and even new people were let into the area, but she didn't show up anymore and we all had waited four hours for nothing. I have to say, I don't know how much is whose fault, but from the PR manager to the security staff, no one had a clue what was going on and regarding this was such a huge and important event, things like these shouldn't happen. But still, I saw her and my pic sucks, but I was busy watching her in real life, so my view was much better than the photo indicates. After having waited hours in front of the theatre, I headed off to Putney for the book release. I didn't get tickets for the Waterstones in London, but in hindsight I liked that I went to Putney. In Waterstones Putney were about fifty people and the whole affair was not big, loud or atmospheric in a hysterical sense, but it was cosy, family-like and internal. They sorted us into houses and then we had four different classes: Quidditch (where we had to throw balls through a hoop - I sucked at this); DADA (where we had to answer trivia about Harry Potter - I was by far the best at this); Divination (where we played Pictionary - by far the best); and Herbology (where we decorated cupcakes - N was by far the best). The funny thing was that there were only children participating in the activities, and me and N, and we were still the most popular Gryffindors after five minutes, although being technically adults. Gryffindor comprised us, a sweet girl and some loud but sweet boys who asked me about football, why I know so much and were already insulting me after ten minutes (and I mean that as a good sign, when young teenagers insult you (which is the teenage version of a joke), you really have made the gang). In Herbology, N and I sat in the front row - all nerdy - and the girl and another boy sat down with the words: can we sit with you, we want to sit at the intelligent table. The activities were really well done and they had a cafeteria with HP-themed snacks, so all in all really sweet. The actual book release was a bit lame, no countdown or anything, but ultimately I held the book in my hands, went home and read until four in the morning. The next section contains spoilers for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. DO NOT READ ON if you don't want to be spoilt!! Now, to the book - or play, I should rather say. Just to update you, HPCC (as I shall from here on refer to Harry Potter and the Cursed Child) was not written by JK Rowling. It is a play based on an original story by Rowling, but written by Jack Thorne (whose autograph, by the way, I got). It is also no prose, but drama. When I opened the book and saw it was catching up with the last scene of HP and the Deathly Hallows it nearly made me cry with happiness. I have to be honest, I haven't completely made up my mind yet whether I like the book or not - I will have to wait until I have seen the play and also find it difficult to criticise anything JK Rowling had anything to do with; however, I must admit the story was profoundly different from what I had expected. I thought it would display Harry's normal life as a father and Albus's normal teenage struggles as the son of one of the most famous wizards. It was, however, a real adventurous plot in which Voldemort nearly comes back and Albus and Draco's son, Scorpius, travel back in time. I also must admit that some of the story twists seemed quite far-fetched. For instance, Voldemort apparently has a daughter with Bellatrix Lestrange shortly before the big battle of Hogwarts - which I just cannot picture. Yes, there was devotion from Bellatrix toward Voldemort, but not really the other way around and, also, can you picture Voldemort having sex? (Don't, I did and it's been haunting me ever since). I just think that after all the adventures and horrors of Harry's journey, it would have been nice to just learn about his normal life and normal struggles, but that doesn't mean I cannot grow to love the plot. If you have been keeping up with Pottermore, you probably have read Jo's writing as Rita Skeeter where she reports from the Quidditch World Cup, and I had hoped the book would be like that. Glimpses into the world of the characters, now that the war is over. Also, the book concentrates mainly on Albus and his not really well-founded hatred for his famous father and I would just have loved to read more about other family members, like George, Bill and Fleur, Mr and Mrs Weasley and so on... Well, anyway, it tells us about the world, so I still have to love it, but I wanted to re-read it and must say, I just don't like reading plays, so I am currently wasting my time with re-writing the play into my version of the book. Should you read it and encounter you would prefer an actual book, too, just ask me and I can send you my version (as soon as it's finished). |
AuthorIn September 2015 I started a new chapter of my life by moving (temporarily or permanently, not yet decided) to England where I work and socialise now. Archives
December 2017
Categories |