any excuse will do, really

I decided I couldn't leave my new friend SONYa naked any longer and therefore bought her a funky bag. Not that she gets out that often, being happy to stay at home with her broadband cable but you just never know. Like, the Fashion Police (God forbid!) could accost me on the way to my car when I'm about to take Sonya to Carinthia for a change of scenery. The bulky black bag I'd provisionally borrowed from a friend was a tad beneath her, really. We all know that young Japanese ladies like her take immense pride in chic bags, after all.

Mini BlogMeet

...and it only took us some 3 months to find a date when all three of us were in town and didn't have other plans. Last night, Novala, Tomaz* and yours truly had their oft-postponed blogmeet en miniature. Guess who ordered the Sodazitron.

* who lives in fear of spam so doesn't want to be linked to

Mail-Order Mum

Unlike Novala's, who seems to produce more clothes than a Chinese sweatshop these days, my (state-of-the-art) sewing machine is gathering dust. Shame on me, I know. Luckily, I have a mother who not only sews lovely stuff for herself, but for her spoilt brat of an only daughter as well. Last week, Dad mailed me two photos of her holding two similar skirts to the camera, bullfighter-like, and I only had to decide which one I liked better. I chose the one without the border (she will wear the other one), Mum wrapped it and took it to the post office and hey presto! I received it on Monday and wore it to the office yesterday. Beats La Redoute any day, not only because it's erm...considerably cheaper.

biological warfare

When I walked into my room today, I was hit by the unbearable stench of raw onion. Turns out alien-from-outer-space (hereinafter to be referred to as AFOS) generously rubbed her sore throat with juicy raw onions (!) this morning before wrapping an Hermès foulard (!!) around it and leaving the house.

Don't get me wrong, I've heard of this remedy myself and I truly sympathise with a killer sore throat, having been afflicted myself only recently BUT WE FUCKING SIT IN A WINDOWLESS ROOM TOGETHER FROM 9 TO 17:30 AND THERE'S FEW SMELLS I HATE MORE THAN THAT OF RAW ONION.

Stay tuned, dear reader, to find out whether manslaughter (how many years would I get in view of the mitigating circumstances I wonder) has taken place @ Coma HQ. Coming soon to an office near you (hopefully not).

10:30 (update): Horror of horrors - I just found out that she did not just rub her throat but is in fact wearing pieces of onion in a gauze bandage under the Hermès scarf. Puke. I've sent her out to the library where her killer fumes are scaring away our last guests and where she is driving our security guard up the wall...

first day of autumn

I was in the middle of a long-overdue cleaning frenzy on Saturday morning, when Frida called to tell me herself, the Prototype and the kids were already on their way to Baumgartner Höhe where they intended to have a picnic. Would I like to join them? I immediately dropped my cleaning utensils, got changed and hopped on the 48A Bus. I love taking a walk there and am looking forward to the day in the distant future* when Otto Wagner's beautiful church will be open to the public again. I still have a photo of my first visit (pre-renovations) back in 1989, with Frida, myself and the Mermaid posing in front of the church during the (then) obligatory week all students from the provinces spent sightseeing in the capital. On beautiful days, it's a real pastoral idyll (click to enlarge):
When we walked back to F. and P.'s car through the premises of the psychiatric hospital, we happened upon a hysterically sobbing Italian teenager, accompanied by her parents who, juding from the guide-book wanted to see the church, refusing to go past the wrought-iron gates after having been screamed at by an inmate in his pyjamas. Admittedly, he was very scary and very loud and all the way back in the car, we tried to come up with child-friendly explanations for psychological illness to give Frida's 5-year old who kept quizzing us "Why was the man shouting?" and "Why was the girl crying?"

Lunch-break purchases: Two birthday presents. Can't go into detail as both recipients read this blog...

* September 28: I read in the paper today that it will re-open after six years of renovations this Sunday (Oct. 1)

insights

In one of the glossy mags I bought while on holiday in Slovenia, I discovered this article, the title of which even I could understand (never mind relate to): What does your bag say? As in: what does it say about its owner. Due to my bag thing (habit?addiction?fetish? whatever) and my compulsion to (colour) coordinate all my accessories with my outfit de jour I end up transferring the contents from one bag to another, occasionally forgetting something important at home. On a typical work day, my bag would contain the following items:

• Filofax
• mobile phone
• wallet
• IPod
• camera
• sunglasses
• keys
• key-card for the office
• chewing gum
• a book
• a mini cosmetics bag containing lipgloss, a tiny mirrow, perfume and spare daily contacts
• tissues

As you might have gathered, I tend to go for larger bags.

***

I had to take the afternoon off yesterday because of a plumbing emergency (the water refused to drain in the bathtub but to make up for that the water from the kitchen sink, coffee grounds and all, appeared in the bath tub. Yum, yum.

When the plumber was done doing his magic, I asked him if there was anything I could do in order to prevent future blockages. "Don't wash", was his suggestion. So if you happen to bump into me on the streets of Vienna, better give me a wide berth as I could be potentially challenging for your dainty olfactory nerves...

tchibotic

Can anyone keep me away from Tchibo and Eduscho, please? With their range of good value and PRACTICAL (read: entirely justifiable) gadgets/household applicances/furniture, etc. I find it hard to resist. Last week I bought 3 things there: a kitchen storage unit (€12), a lamp (€11, if I remember correctly) and a set of 2 semi-transparent curtains (€12,99).

To round up my home-improving shopping-spree, a visit to IKEA on Saturday produced a sisal rug (it's actually yellow but looks beige on the picture) to replace the rather mangy looking one in my hallway. Compared to my Tchibo-bargains, it was rather expensive at € 79, but still cheaper than the original (custom-made) one.

Speaking of shopping, erm...this brings me to today's

Luch-break purchase: Ta-dah! A beautiful (not mentioning PRACTICAL) black bag from Benetton. Abso-lutely necessary. No, make that vital. I couldn't find a picture on the website so it's just as well I've got my camera here at the office. Stay with me for a sec...coming up...et voilà:

Tuesday Trivia

Kurkonditorei Oberlaa recently introduced (French-style) macaroons. On Sunday, I tried all 7 flavours. Very yummy, the fruity ones in particular. Four of them didn't make it home for the photo-session as I had already devoured them on the bus to my aunt's ... FCN is the bestest [sic!]. She was on vacation in Ireland (bitch!) and brought me back an assortment of treats when she returned to Coma HQ yesterday:

slippery when wet

I was sitting in PPS's car on our way back from IKEA (more about that soon) when my mobile phone beeped. In anticipation (I don't get many texts these days) I reached into my handbag and clicked on the envelope symbol. Hmmm, strange number. It read:

Kennst Du mich noch? Ich war eng und nass zwischen den Schenkeln und Du
warst prall und groß! Wollen wir mal wieder was anstellen?

Followed by a 09- number and the information 2.17 eur/min

For those among you who did not grow up with subtitled German porn or else are fluent in the language anyway, here's the (literal) translation:

Do you remember me? I was tight and wet between the thighs and you were firm
and big! Feel like getting up to something together again?

Damn. Serves me right for roaming the city with my "firm and big" strap-on. Again. I should have known this would have repercussions...

***

When I visited my chronically bored 89-year-old great-aunt in her old people's home yesterday I told her I wouldn't kiss her good-bye because of my cold. She made a dismissive gesture, "Come on, Schatzi, don't be ridiculous. I've got more than enough time for being sick, don't you think?".

SLO(w)-roasted lamb

Having survived the mother of all traffic jams in/around Ljubljana , we arrived at Grand Hotel St. Bernardin on Saturday afternoon. I immediately headed for the beach and got down to roasting my eerily white flesh a darker shade of beige. Well, actually, I did get a tan which is rather impressive for my standard. Unfortunately, I'd only packed one book so on day two was reduced to listening in on other people's conversations when not shuffling through my IPod playlist or averting my eyes from the unsightly drooping FF boobs of my deck chair neighbour. I eventually bought two Slovenian magazines, wishing I'd taken a dictionary with me. Speaking of which - I surprised myself by actually addressing the natives in their mother tongue and occasionally engaging in something remotely resembling a rudimentary conversation. Well, don't get too excited, it was along the lines of Do you sell stamps as well? and Can I pay in Euro, please? But still. I was particulary pleased that they didn't answer back in English or German... St. Bernardin, where we stayed, is halfway between Portorož proper and Piran. I'd last visited Piran with my parents almost two decades ago when we spent a night there on our way back from a holiday in Mali Losinj, Croatia. It was still as picturesque as I remembered it:
We drove home via Italy on Tuesday, stopping in Koper which neither Mum nor I had been to before. For some reason, I tend to be rather prejudiced when I hear "seaport" and only think of cranes and containers. I know that this is stupid as I've been to that other seaport, Trieste, a mere stone's sthrough away from Koper, several times and it never evoked ugly industrial images in the first place, rather intrinsically Austrian wishful thinking about back when "we" had access to the sea. In any case, Koper has a beautiful main square which was allegedly modelled upon St. Mark's Square in Venice. I did see cranes and containers too and learnt from my guide-book that all cars produced in the Far East which are intended for the central European market arrive at the port of Koper, which means that Flocki, my trusty Toyota, must have breathed in the Istrian air at some stage as well.

Hunks

More on my mini-break tomorrow. As a sneak preview, just a little picture of two Slovenian (?) hunks [exhibit a.) was spotted in Piran, b.) on a building site in Koper. Check out the sexy undies, ladies!] whose charms all three of us (= Granny, Mum and yours truly) managed to resist. Just about.

ladies let loose

Bye-bye from me until Thursday. I'm going on a mini-break to Slovenia with my Mum and Gran. Wish me sunshine...

tubbies

This morning, the annual drill with the emergency chutes took place @ Coma HQ. We were instructed by the boss of the company that installed the equipment in somewhat unorthodox "English", the highlight of which is his persistent use of sockets for socks. "End now you must put on se protecktiff overohl end sis sockets instett off your shoes." He always comes with a suitcase full of said protective overalls and socks and reminds us not to take any files or handbags with us in case of a real emergency. Well, the files I'd be only to happy to leave behind, but my HANDBAG. Excuse ME!

Staff from offices across the road and innocent passers-by got the unexpected highlight of their day when they saw inmates of Coma HQ unceremoniously land just above pavement level, dressed in fetching blue overalls and padded socks sockets. Très chic!

Lunch-break at Tiffany's

Well, wishful thinking, more like. Unless I find myself some geriatric sugar-daddy (preferably one who doesn't want anything carnal in return) or, alternatively, Bill Gates or Donald Trump stumble over this blog and discover the PayPal button in the sidebar, I don't think I'll become a regular at the latest addition to the elegant shops on Vienna's chic Kohlmarkt.

*snivel*

Lunch-break purchases (100% glam-free): an optical (mini-) mouse for my new baby.

Golden Retriever

Yesterday in my lunch-break, I went to Schöps to exchange the jumper I'd bought for my granny for a bigger size. So far, so innocent.

Oh-oh! What did my shopping-radar pick up immediately after crossing the threshold - the coveted mock sheepskin coat I'd drooled over in other branches but never tried on because all that was left were "L" and "XL" sizes and there didn't seem much hope of new deliveries. "Suits me fine", I thought, "that's one more impulse buy prevented by adverse circumstances." Not so as the Graben branch (as it turned out later) had managed to order some smaller sizes from uncool (my interpretation) districts. Hurrah! "XS" fit perfectly and I marvelled at my cuddly polar-bear-in-a-dressing-gown appearance in the claustrophobic changing cubicle, sweat running down my face. Thanks to the fact that it was all manmade fibre and only polyester vulgaris creatures had to die for this coat, so to speak, it was €59 well spent, I thought. It's never too early to buy a winter coat, eh?

The Mermaid whom I asked to take a picture of me and my new "hide" remarked that it made me look like a Golden Retriever. Details!

En route to the office I stopped at Tchibo to check out their new arrivals and bingo! found another ABOSLUTELY VITAL gadget - speakers for my IPod.

I finished my spree (the things you can accomplish in a 75 min lunch-break...) by buying a birthday present for my little cousin.

In view of yesterday's retail therapy extravaganza I restricted myself to food today, checking out a brand new eatery with PPS. The salad we had was tasty but not exactly saturating, prompting us to stop at an ice-cream parlour on the way back to our respective offices.

Why I dolled myself up for a visit to the mall

On Saturday, I got up early, cleaned and tidied my flat, went grocery shopping and then set out to accomplish Mission Possible: tadaaaah, to buy a notebook. I had made up my mind on Friday, realising when leafing through leaflets from various electronics stores that if I waited for my financial situation to improve/THE ultimate special offer to catch my eye, etc., etc., I'd probably never ever buy one.

So. Determined to overcome my adversion to haggling, I reconsidered my usual casual Saturday-look, applied an extra layer of mascara (for some serious eylash-fluttering) and glittery red lipgloss. Thus prepared, I headed to the COSMOS branch at the mall down the road to fondly stroke the object of my desire. I couldn't have been there longer than a couple of minutes when a miracle happened. A shop assistant actually walked up to me and asked me if he could help me. Those among you who've ever been to an Austrian electronics or DIY store know that the one commodity you usually can't get for love nor money is sales people. Be that as it may, either my engrossed perusal of the gadget on display or my carefully made-up appearance attracted this rarest of species, a shop assistant willing to devote his full attention to a customer. I coyly asked if "anything could be done about the price" or if he could throw in some winter tyres or alloy rims. He gave me a strange look (is there a tumour in your humour?, to quote the Robster...) and said "You're not buying a car here, you know." To cut a long story short, I got my new Sony Vaio for €50 (better than nothing, eh?) less than it said on the price tag and went home a very happy new notebook mum, convinced that her baby is the prettiest by far: The photo above was taken by Novala, who came over for dinner on Saturday night.
She told me all about her most recent Balkan adventures and was a GG, Good Guest, polishing off her plate and complimenting me on my cooking...

In case you're interested in some food trivia, here we go:

Starter: figs and feta (cream) cheese with dried cranberries and roasted pine nuts marinated with olive oil and balsamic vinegar
Main course: salmon-filet wrapped in prosciutto (a Jamie recipe) with rice and salad.
Dessert: Divine Eismarillenknödeln (ice-cream apricot dumplings) from TICHY.

It will feel strange not to join "Novalica" as I like to call her and the other ladies for yet another - in my sad case at least - completely useless Slovenian course next month. I've stuck to my decision not to prolong the agony.

14:04 update - Lunch-break purchases: Back in full throttle. More about today's spree tomorrow. Stay tuned.

pampered by the Princess

Last night, I was invited for dinner @ the Pampered Princess' palatial penthouse ("PPPP") together with her sister, PPS. In due style, the hostess welcomed us with a black silk tutu worthy of Carrie Bradshaw and huge sparkly earings to give Las Vegas a run for its money, glam-wise.

You may criticise the PP for lots of things but she definitely is an accomplished cook. Last night, she made two traditional Austrian dishes, Frittatensuppe and Zwetschkenknödel (plum dumplings), both very yummy and redolent of childhood treats you would get from your granny rather than your mum unless the latter happened to be a stay-at-home housewife and full-time mother.

Just the perfect soul-food for a cold and windy last day of August. However, *warm* weather has been forecast for the weekend so I think I won't unearth my trusty old down coat from the depths of my wardrobe just yet.

Wishing you all a sunny weekend.