I can’t stop laughing about this. Unfortunately for some of you it’s in German, and the dialogue is kind is what really cracks me up¹, so don’t be too disappointed. You can watch it nevertheless, since the facial expressions are hilarious, too.

Apparently my mother loves that, too. When my father talked to me on the phone I could here her repeating some lines over and over always bursting out into laughter afterwards. I love it.

—
¹Here’s a weak attempt at translating it, but it doesn’t really work in English:
Cup 1: You can bite me.
Cup 2: Well, you can bite me, too.
Cup 1: You can bite me a… four times.
Cup 2: Always two times more than you.

Tonight the moon is so bright that it actually casts shadows. It’s really weird and very fascinating.

Tonight was also the night where we had to de-decorate the Christmas tree and bring it down to be picked up tomorrow. As always I suddenly became very very emotional and projected all kinds of feelings on that little tree. Look, how sad it looks! Oh, we can’t leave it out there. Alone, in the cold. It’ll cry silent trees. We are monsters. It’s all alone out there and we left it to die (which, sadly enough is kind of true).

Damn, now I’m depressed again. Poor little thing.

Sigh.

I just realized that aside from using „google“ as a verb like everybody does these days I also think that copy and paste is really one word. More like copy-and-paste. Or copyandpaste. I hardly ever use one without the other anyway.

But the most important thing is that when using it in past tense I would always say „copy and pasted“ (or copyandpasted), when – if it were really more than one word – I would have to say „copied and pasted“. Which I don’t. So it’s one word. End of discussion.

Today I realized that what for one year I thought was the List of Puddly Awards Winner Books of 2005 really was the List of Puddly Awards Winner Books of 2004.

What was I thinking? Was I drunk? Or on drugs?

Both?

It just occured to me today when after voting for this years Puddly’s I checked out the list of „last year’s winners“, which for all I knew was the list of books to read that I have on my desk for nearly a year now. That list was completely new to me. I mean there were several books on there that I recognized, but I have stared at my list at least once too often, so I know when a book is not on it. And there were plenty of books among the winners of 2005 that I didn’t recognize.

The point of this story? Apart from my stupidity and the accompanying shame, there really is not much. Maybe this:

1. I now have more lists to go through and keep myself from wasting brain power to make my next book order.

2. Go vote.

Tonight I shaked my favorite politicans hand. And thanked him. Just a general thank you.
I feel excited and good.

Today I realized why I shouldn’t do the job I’m doing. I mean I kind of like programming once I have gotten into it, then it’s fine and I won’t rest until I solved the problem and feel strangely proud when everything works as planned.

But I fucking hate data. Data is mean. It’s Evil. It’s a million entries just teaming up to drive me to mental insanity. Plus, it’s boring. It is so boring I want to cry. Yet, I can’t not care because one false query in my code, one freaking loop gone wrong and I’ve accidentally deleted all our clients‘ data. Which, as I said, is boring but unfortunately also is crucial to my company’s well-being.
I swear, one night all this data is going to sneak inside my bedroom and scare me to death.

I really really hate data. It’s out there and I just know it has some evil plan. So, if you see some zeroes and ones conspiciously lurking in shadows? Freaking RUN!

I think Erin Dailey’s¹ audio commentary is missing from my German Alias DVD box. Damn. Too late I remembered why I was so reluctant at first to get it.

They fucking robbed me of Erin! Jerks.

—
¹She just re-styled her blog. Go see.

One good thing about winter is that you can store all your beverages on the balcony and save some room in the fridge for other things just as well as having them nearer when you get thirsty.

Since we don’t get snow here, that’s about the only thing I can come up with.

Oh, Christmas. But that’s over already.

I’m currently in the middle of season 3 of Alias and enjoying it like hell. First I hated Lauren, then I kinda liked Lauren, then we learned that Lauren was EvilLauren and I started to hate her again, but in another way than I first hated her, then she turned into Man-Eating EvilLauren With Better Hair and I kinda like her again now.

You should know that I usually suck when it comes to guessing things like who the Evil Guy is, who’s really behind the whole thing, or who killed Lily Kane. I just suck and I hardly ever predict anything. If you saw it coming months ago, it’s very possible that I was stunned by surprise.

But that doesn’t mean that last episode’s big revelation came as a big surprise to me. So Arvin Sloane might be Sydney’s father? Hell, I saw that coming by the second episode of this whole show. What do you think I’m stupid? Well, even if I am, I’m not that stupid.

Come on, Alias, you can do better. I know you can, because I totally expected Irina being Lazarey’s shooter, so you had me there.

And if you run out of ideas, just give me Michael Vartan half naked. I can live with that.

You should all go to Overheard in the Office.

I have to fight real hard not to burst out laughing when reading this at work.