Yoga Arms

since daniel craig started doing bikram yoga, more and more muscly men have started to appear in our sunday classes... and are having serious difficulties getting into the postures alright because their big muscles keep getting in the way! quiet giggles of revenge over here :)


a pose that seems to be particularly challenging is the eagle pose, performed above by this spaghetti-like man who can teach all the muscles a lesson - wonderful set up on flickr here.


credits: "See?!" originally uploaded by Levi Hastings; "devourer" originally uploaded by Talkingsun

Housecat

we've got a cat in the house now, and we already hate it. its way of saying hi to everyone was to throw up in everybody's room. officially, it had to come and stay with us cause its owner is on holidays. i think that's a lie: its owner is on holidays from his cat. it's utterly useless, the beasty: there's lots of rats in the frontyard, but the cat is a housecat. if let out, it'd probably be beaten and eaten up by the vermin in no time, and we'd have to return it stuffed. i'm sure its own uselessness has had an impact on its psyche - it sneezes all the time, i think its allergic against itself.

Things gone missing

planet harald in my living room; student humour in my studio

Pissed off with everything day

Happy Xmas! - Actually, this calls more for a pissed off by everyhing month.

I've been rude by phone, by chat, by sms, by email and in person. I've hit my phone, I've kicked my bike, I've freaked out on some people. Job no1 was horrible, job no2 was worse, and there was never any time for job no3.

Friends, colleagues, flatmates. As one of them put it today (for himself): 'I'm at a point in life where everybody's a ****.' Great.

Stories about friends working together, stories about friends sharing flats. Worst cases: labelled toothpaste tubes ('don't move this!'), plastered cutlery ('this is mine!').

Newsagent City

"Please note: Only 2 school children allowed in these premises at any one time" it says on the little black & white sign put up inside a newsagent's. "Aha - yes - what's that supposed to mean - schoolkids, do they steal? Aha, ok." is what I get whenever I point this out to non-Londoners. The speed at which this signage is being interpreted, learnt, accepted as part of the city is amazing.

Schnitzeljagd

Tripping over a long white cable in the hallways, we followed the lead into my kitchen, finding flatmate J multitasking. Like a pet, his PC laptop had been seated on a high kitchen stool right over at the oven. He himself had been plugged in (a second white lead ended in a mike swung round his neck) and was busying himself cooking burritos. The computer spoke. I only realized then it was his skype-ing girlfriend when the computer got agitatedly irritated about the increasing number of voices, streaming over from our UK kitchen to some place in California...

As pragmatic as it gets

This church advert in Stamford Hill made me stop dead and think: I'm quite curious to see this. What would I be willing to sacrifice? Not a Sunday morning. No.

The bottom one feels more like it: Whenever I pass that corner in Stoke Newington, I instinctly listen for my mobile phone to beep, thinking, that would be brilliant, to get a msg right now!

British Gas...

... you must be my best friend. Everytime I push that button ("Water" or "Central Heating", 1 hour please) I think of you. I don't have a button for Sascha, Dani S, anybody. ("conversation flow, hot", 1 hour please!)

Laptop Locals

Chatting loud, we got out of the offices to not disturb the people at work. Chatting loud, we entered a small coffeeshop just off Hackney Road. I felt compelled to leave at once to not disturb the people at work. Who are these Laptop Loonies? Lads&&Ladies? Locals? - ok, this camera is small, a bit crappy; it can look in only one direction and from one angle only, but if-it-only-could-as-it-wanted, it would have recorded not 4 but 12 laptops into this 1 picture - .

Having an ordinary conversation in the midst of such technologically styled crowd feels odd. A double luxury (YES hot chocolate WITH cream please): increase your bloodsugar level, watch your next neighbour's stresslevel grow. Slowly. Steady. Ready? Go?

They're not leaving. Something's wrong. Are they eavesdropping? Is your conversation not what you think it is? Are you giving secrets away, worse: moneyjobs? Paranoia.

Bus-Snatchers

Oh no! My sweet old 38 has been snatched and replaced by a scary stinky 18 meter long caterpillar.

England

That's Jesus, Food, Sex, Entertainment, Gordon Ramsay, J Lo, Channel 4, Christmas in one billboard! Only thing missing here is the sparkling pre-christmas decoration doubledecker bus rushing by.

(Jamie lives on another C4 billboard but isn't allowed to strip. Yet.)

This blog's Home(r)!

This is a fine little street in Upper Clapton, Hackney. However, it's not longer safe up there - Springfield in a parallel World has attacked an is determined to take over. Oh, these kids I'm workshopping with at Metropolitan: Give them whatever design task to solve, give them the freedom to choose their media, and they choose the Bart! Slightly reminiscent of RCA, that is...

ps home: bethnal green bloggers clapton bloggers stoke newington bloggers

Mugged cars

We woke up from a loud bang one cold winter night: the windows of this burning car had burst. Occasionally, cars are being mugged this way in Bethnal Green. Steal the radio, set aflame.

In or Out? Kings Cross McDonald's

Cola or Beer? King's Cross McDonald's.

The smell of this scene is killing me: pass the elderly drunkard couple on the left, smell beer, think: beer I will be drinking later! Pass the McDonald's entrance, smell burgers fries and coke, feel sick.

aka London Weather and other Stress

Yes we were trashed. Binned. Say "buckets of water are falling from the sky very fast" 20 times to get the feel for this look. I don't know why we're laughing here (I guess that's because the charming cook from the Globe was so taking the piss watching us from inside) AND I don't know how Kate managed to not get herself photographed dressed up in black plastic.

Living in London is a F*Up, sometimes

I've gone back to camping. After a heroic month of sleeping on springs where there should have been a mattress, I gave in. I set up bed on my well-tried, self-inflating camping mattress. It's the 3rd of October, and maybe Nationalism is kicking in (ha), but: Germans beware, life in England is different, it's all about survival within your own home. Should you wish to add some baked beans delight to this scenario, be prepared and B.Y.O. Swiss Army Knife: opening tins in England is - different - as well.

Takeaway Buddhism

No Starbucks-like Coffeechainconsumerism on my way to work: I wanted to be good today. The buddhist Gallery Cafe, Bethnal Green, then. I'm always late. They were later. 10.23 am, the appr. manpower of 4.5 over 4 mins fixes my takeaway coffee. The cup f'd up so badly I had to stop at Cambridge Heath/B'Green Road intersection, stand still and drink. Watch tube passengers passing by. Do not swear. Meditate.

Force Feedback. My self-employed Wednesday.

Tax Office. End of 1h-Session. Am tickboxing a feedback form. 'How competent was your Gegenüber? How competent are you, now?' Am doing it. My Gegenüber won't be paid if I don't.

Here's the feedback without a tick: Dear Inland Revenue - you send your clients dysfunctional mail. Can I feedback on that? NO. Dear Inland Revenue - you tell claustrophobics to get in a lift. Can I feedback on that? NO. Dear Inland Revenue - you don't supply your guests with a loo. Can I feedback on that? NO.

(My Gegenüber was very sweet and competent, btw)

V&A vs Science Museum. My self-employed Tuesday.

The V&A made us happy: Lots of Energy in the Deutschlandscape. Geoff McFetridge, later on, was very sweet as well. "All smiles have teeth"!

(good to smell some prints, btw)

Housewiving. My self-employed Monday.

When you're self-employed, you have to take care of your health. You have to take breaks, relax, cause you're your only asset. So I did some housewiving today, built a dreamweaver template, baked a fat little cake.

Noises from the kitchen.

For the past week I've been convinced that the hi-frequency squeak emitted from behind the fridge has come from mice that currently occupy our kitchen. The fridge arrived at the same time the mice decided to hold late night parties. Unfortunately 3 dead mice later, the squeaks continue.
I'm no kitchen psychologist, but... the fridge is a newcomer to the household and I have come to the conclusion that this pathetic 'pheeewp' is its way of trying to get some domestic attention.

The microwave, oven and washers, have been around our flat for a while, and I find their whurrs, pings and rumbles comforting. Through their noises they communicate. They say to me, hey I'm doing the job, I'm making your life easier, and in a few minutes it will all be done. But the fridge... well there's not much dynamism in the fridge. Yes it keeps things cool and it illuminates the kitchen at night. But it still lets the carrots go rotten, the milk curdle and hides the leftovers while they get mouldy.

Poor fridge maybe I am being harsh, I know its not the fridges fault. If there is someone to blame then its the makers for not developing its potential and instead allowing for this pathetic insecure noise. If only its makers had encouraged it to develop a decent digestive system, an effective way to deal with the rotting vegetables in its hidden chambers. Then, it could so easily compete with its dynamic kitchen neighbours.

I can hear it now, a short buzz into action then a great big gurgle and burp that says to me I'm disposing, I'm making your life easier and in a few minutes your mouldy old cabbage will soon be gone.