Heart-Warming

Last week I bought a heart-shaped silicone muffin/cake tray and an equally heart-shaped chocolate tray from the BODUM store near my office. I tried it out today, slightly adapting the gateau au chocolat recipe by adding 5 instead of just 1 tablespoon of flour, 1 teaspoon of baking powder and a generous shot of Cointreau. The result is a bit denser and slightly less rich, but very pretty anyway.

You might want to give it a try, say, if you're in someone's bad books and need to suck up to them or *highly original* for Valentine's Day.

Nervous System

What is an unmistakable sign of an online shopper in the advanced stages of her addiction? It's when you find 6 Happy-Birthday e-mails by various retailers in the inbox first thing in the morning before any of your friends and relatives have congratulated you.

I actually got 3 deliveries yesterday, one of them being a really cool necklace called "nervous system" which I ordered in the Crazy Magpie sale:

All Mine!

Today, I got another year older, alas. The good thing is that, apart from yet another grey hair, birthdays tend to come with great presents. Here's some highlights of the things I got so far. Not pictured is my ticket for Vonda Shepherd (@ Gasometer in Vienna on February 9), a joint present by MC, the Empress and our lovely new colleague whom I'll call the Gazelle here as she is tall and svelte, who will all accompany me!

A very Jeff-Koons-esque bear candle by Amica:

a pretty shoe-bag and really cool book (or shall I say, Bible) by the PP and her sis:

A cute little bag and stylish notebook from one of my favourite shops by yet another colleague who I think has not been mentioned here so far and whom I'll call the Scholar as he is a reliable source of information, above all of the linguistic kind:

and a vest and undies pimped with a silkscreen print of handbags with wings and devil's horns by Frida:

I'm not complaining...

I Suppose I Could Just Unsubscribe from the Newsletter

Then again, it's just so nice of Mandarina Duck to let me know that not only is there a sale but shipping is free for a limited period of time as well.

My imaginary sensible Good Twin keeps waving flashcards with images like this in front of my face:

My not-so-sensible Evil Twin keeps telling me that these days, shopping equals an act of charity and your own contribution to the ailing econonmy.

Plus it is a damn sexy laptop bag.

Floridsdorf* meets Havanna

Today was a lovely sunny day and I decided to go for a walk on the Danube Island. Already more than shabby in summer, the deserted bars and restaurants were in a pitiful state and reminded me of documentaries about Cuba. Not that I know of any embargo on house paints affecting Austria, mind you.

The barbecuing area there is notorious and if you walk past the "Grillzone", which is extremely popular with immigrants, in summer your clothes and hair will smell as if you'd paid a visit to Hell itself. I actually saw two guys set up a barbecue today, but preparations hadn't reached the hellfire stage.


*Vienna's 21st district

NOW I get it!

In my professional capacity, I often try to convince clients to advertise Free Shipping! for merchandise sold in their online shops, telling them that as an avid online shopper, I generally give shops a wide berth which charge delivery fees. So much for the theory.

When I was in KLU for Christmas, I discovered a little white terrycloth container for bathroom utensils at Butlers. It was on sale and I bought one. Back in Vienna, I decided I wanted another two for my bathroom, only to find out they were sold out at the Mariahilfer St. branches. Yesterday, I discovered they had an online store and while not on sale, they still sold the things. € 9.90 postage for merchandise costing less than that? No way. Oh. Free delivery when you spend € 69 or more. Cool. I need a birthday present for my godchild anyway ... and look, what a nice orange milk jug...and gift vouchers always come in handy, don't they?

I'm beginning to see the advantages of delivery fees or free delivery only after a certain amount from a retailer's point of view...

Photo: http://www.butlers.de/

German Sausage of Another Kind

This morning the radio newscaster used the word Inaugurationstourismus to describe the masses of people travelling to Washington for the inauguration of President Obama. It reminded me what I loved most about my mother tongue: its long sausages of words that allow you to express abstract concepts in a single word without the use of any prepositions. Another topical example is Verschrottungsprämie (scrapping premium), a reward for people who decide to scrap their old cars and buy a new one, thus boosting the ailing automotive industry. Another classic example is the German verb thematisieren which translates to "to address the issue of something". It's more of a small English breakfast sausage and yet so poignant.

Winter Frolicking

As you know, I really love skating. Thus, it was with a heavy heart that I watched all the skaters at Laxenburg park yesterday. I didn't fancy skating on my own and TD whom I had recruited to accompany me for an "airing" doesn't skate.

Because I'm Worth It

The theory: I'm not going to buy anything in the Sales but focus on chucking things out (have made more than € 80 with my eBay project so far, by the way).

The practice: When accompanying MC and the Empress to the Tommy Hilfiger store last week which is conveniently located a mere stone's throw from our office, this skirt begged me to rescue it:

I had already seen it in the window months ago when the regular price was obscene enough to put me off buying it right away. Now, at 50%, it was still more expensive than any skirt I'd ever bought, but I just HAD to have it.

I'm happy to report that I was more than impressed with the performance of its maiden outing - no crease on the rear side AT ALL after wearing it for a solid 10 hours. Which reminds me of my other motto this year: quality over quantity.

I challenge you

For reasons unbeknown to me, I got my first birthday card this year yesterday already, exactly 2 weeks before the actual date. A good friend who lives in London sent me this card plus a divine-smelling perfumed wardrobe sachet. The little pin on the card reads "My idea of housework is to sweep the room with a glance". Now I'm not only saying this because I LOVE cards and want to replace the Christmas cards, but just in case you were planning to send me a birthday card, you have a lot to live up to!

click to enlarge

Theseus Gets a Face-Lift

I recently paid my old hunting grounds a visit, only to find out that my beloved Theseus Temple is currently undergoing renovations, which makes a visit to the park decidedly less attractive.

Comeback

It's snowing and the Graben pedestrian zone (there are only cars in the picture as they are allowed to drive there in the mornings for deliveries) appears sugar-coated.

Sorely Lacking in Grey Matter

In the middle of last year, I bought a calendar for 2009 for my toilet. I think. I put it on top of my sewing machine in the shelf to the right of the little desk in my bedroom. I think. As it kept sliding off its place of storage I put it somewhere else. But where? I've searched all the usual suspects for hiding places in my flat but can't find it anywhere. I'm beginning to doubt I bought a calendar in the first place. Does anyone have experience with the early stages of Alzheimer's? (Alternatively, is anyone a clairvoyant who can tell me where I put the calendar?).

Stella and Me, We've Had this Thing Going on for More than 2 Years Now

I'm often asked what scent I am wearing as it's a rather unusual one that's not as easily recognisable and stored on noses' hard disk as the better know perfumes out there like L'Eau D'Issey or Fahrenheit. My favourite "eau" is Stella McCartney's "Stella in Two: Peony". The other part of the "two" is a solid perfume, amber, which I have never tried. Peonies are among my favourite flowers, too.

It took me years to find a scent I liked for longer that just a couple of months. My eventful perfume-history includes the following (not strictly in chronological order):

Colors by Benetton. My first ever perfume and a rather individualist choice as my teenage peers tended to favour Lou Lou or Anais Anais by Cacharel.

Calvin Klein's Obsession. I tired quickly of that scent and it now almost makes me throw up whenever I smell it. Similarly, I can't stand Amarige by Chivenchy any more, which in retrospect I probably only bought because it seemed a very grown-up choice.

Other Calvin Klein scents I liked were Eternity which I used for quite a while, and Contradiction.

Moschino's Cheap&Chic (I loved the bottle more than the contents). The same holds true for Burberry Brit.

In summer, I occasionally used Jil Sander's Sun.

For a year or so, I had a romance with Ralph Lauren's Romance

Other eau de toilettes which I soon hated on myself but still find o.k. on others are Elisabeth Arden's Sunflowers and Green Tea.

My Gucci phase included Envy (puke!) and Gucci Rush II (still nice).

I really loved (and probably still would but it has been discontinued) Van Cleef&Arpels Automne of their "Les Saisons..." series.

At duty-free shops I still occasionally take an "Italian shower" with Bulgari's Eau Parfumée au thé blanc.

Stella was predecessed by Jo Malone whose Lime Basil and Mandarin Cologne and Pomegranate Noir I actually still really like and occasionally use.

I'm sure I've forgotten some, but the list is longer than I thought anyway.

PS: I remembered another one - White Musk by the Body Shop. Still nice.

Come, meet Karel

Yesterday, I had a discussion about blogs with one of my regular (or so he says) readers and fellow-blogger, my colleague Karel. Karel is not his real name, but he does a wicked impersonation of Czech crooner Karel Gott and actually suggested this nickname himself. He also does a wicked demonstration of his native Hessian dialect, which always gives MC an allergic reaction and makes her wonder aloud how inhabitants of the eponymous German province ever get to procreate, given the (in her opinion) highly contraceptive nature of that dialect. I can't say I completely disagree with her...

Anyway, if you are bored reading about shopping sprees and the wild (not) wold of yours truly or just happen to like bold print, you might want to hop over to his blog and find out about the exciting parallel universe of interculturality. It's not quite as frequently updated as other blogs we know, but this might give him an incentive.

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Delayed Appreciation

On the occasion of my graduation from university, I got a customised gold ring with semi-precious stones from from a family friend. Back then, I did not care for it much as it was way too big and "arty" for the time (1997). I had known in advance that I would get a ring as my Mum had hinted at it and borrowed a ring from me so the goldsmith would know the right size. She had told me the friend wanted him to set stones she had bought in Brazil and I was quite excited. When I saw the outcome, I was underwhelmed and secretly thought to myself that I'd have preferred a shop-bought ring (ideally chosen by myself) or the cash equivalent instead.

This summer, I "re-discovered" the ring in my jewellery box and have since worn it quite often. I felt guilty about my former disregard and also wore it when visiting said friend in KLU in August.

The lady, now 86 years old, is a very special person and (surprisingly enough) holds me in high esteem. She was a crafts teacher at my Mum's school and I apparently impressed her with my creativity at an early age. I'd always liked visiting her flat which was so unlike every other elderly lady's place I knew, filled with books, souvenirs and musical instruments bought at her countless journeys to places as exotic as Afghanistan and the Western Sahara where she organised a charity project. She was and still is often dressed in batik fabrics and has her hair dyed henna-red. Apparently, she was married once, but that was before my Mum ever met her, and as she doesn't have any children, she lives all by herself in the centre of Klagenfurt, carrying groceries up to the second floor (no elevator). Whereas many of my relatives the same age now live in nursing homes and - quite understandably - have stopped giving presents, she still painstaikingly wraps (handmade) gifts and accompanies them with cards in impeccable handwriting. Like all old people she is prone to tell the same stories over and over again and to inflate the number of times she has been to country XY, but all the same - I hope I'll be like that at her age. Well, not the "being all by myself part", necessarily.

Close-Up or: Spaced-Out

One day, I gave my keyboard a closer look and noticed that there was a completely smooth part in the middle of the space bar. It reminded me of that famous Paul Watzlawick story about mysterious scratches on the windscreens of peoples' cars in Seattle. After thorough investigation of the "incident" it turned out that those scratches had always been there but, alterted by rumours and media coverage, people all of a sudden looked at their windscreens from close-up or with a magnifying glass, discovering irregularities on the surface they would not otherwise have noticed.

But seriously, it's really fascinating as this spot is as smooth as those stones in cathedrals which superstitious people have rubbed or kissed for centuries. What is my keyboard trying to tell me? That I should stop hitting the "space" bar so agressively or that I should spend less time at my desk alltogether. Who knows?

Aliens?
(click to enlarge)

Deadline

January 6, the Feast of the Adoration of the Magi, is traditionally the day Austrians say goodbye to their Christmas trees . In case you are wondering - no, we don't throw them out of our windows like the Swedes in the IKEA winter sale ads. I never have a Christmas tree in my flat in Vienna as I always celebrate with my parents in KLU so the odd bauble and string of fairy lights has to sufice as decoration (not to forget the advent wreath, which is a must). I do however always put up, or rather hang up, all the Christmas cards I get and they get an extended period of grace until later in January, when birthday cards usually replace them.

This Time for Real

Even though my nail polish collection only sold for a *whopping* € 1 on eBay, I've decided to seriously tackle the Decluttering Project and put lots of things I no longer need on eBay, including - gasp - bags, one of which I sold on Friday and got almost € 10 for. Not bad, considering I got it for free at a shop opening.

Brand New Comfort Zone

thanks to Christmas pressies by B2 (slippers) and the Mermaid (pyjamas):

That's Pretty Much What I Looked Like, Minus the Fur

I'm back in Vienna after 10 days of sofa-surfing just like the Beast, visiting friends, skiing, shopping (my Pandora bracelet has "grown"...) and of course EATING loads.

And If You Live in KLU, You Better Book a Taxi for New Year's Eve 2009 Today...

Last night, I was invited @ the Pampered Princess's KLU residence. My Mum drove me there and the plan was to take a taxi back home. Before leaving home, I wrote down the number of two taxi companies. So far, so naive. When we were all yawning around 2 a.m. and the hosts and other guests mentally calculated the few hours left until their toddlers would wake them up, I decided to call a taxi. The first number was engaged. At the second one, I had to listen to perky music and a recorded message until I finally had a live dispatcher on line. "Could you please send a taxi to XX-Straße", I innocently said. "I would like ten taxis myself", the guy said. "No chance tonight". Ooo-kaaaay. Admittedly, New Year's Eve is a busy night and I had expected other people to leave their cars at home, too, but still. Out came my trusty G1 and I googled "taxi klagenfurt". One man informed me that I should try my luck again after 4 a.m., another, whom I asked if he had an idea whom else I could call assured me that most companies wouldn't even pick up their phones any more because all cars were out and about. A third at least said he could send a car in around an hour. Right. In the end, the completely sober pregnant PP drove me home. I was still optimistic and told her to drive by the central railway station where I was certain to find the usual 10 or so taxis waiting. Not a single one.
My parents couldn't believe it either but then again, they've never tried to call a taxi in KLU on Dec 31. Next year, I suppose I'll just drive myself as usual since not drinking is no sacrifice for me anyway. Or, alternatively, I'll look into my crystal ball and try to determine the exact time in advance when I get tired or the hosts will want to get rid of me.