I once was a writer...

I have been told that my erratic publishing schedule (that is, my inexistent publishing schedule) makes it hard for my readers to keep up with the blog. Sometimes I publish all too often and readers fall behind; sometimes I have too long a break and readers forget to come back and check if something new has been posted. So, in order to strengthen the loyalty of my current readers, and with the aim to gain the loyalty of new readers, I shall establish a publishing schedule: Every Monday, a new post will be published. I wished I could also state a time, but I don't want to make promises I know I won't be able to keep. But Monday, Monday I can commit to. Yeah. That's all. Stay tuned for Monday's blog. I think it will be awesome. *I hope*

It was in that moment when she realized that she had to make a decision. Right then and there. There was no time for stalling or doubting or waiting. A decision had to be made, and she was the only one who could make it. It had to be her decision, because it would change her life forever. Yes, it would of course also affect the lives of the many people who surrounded her, of the many people who surrounded her because they loved her - because they love her. Yes, their lives would also be affected by her decision; but they would not be woken up in the middle of the night with the question, "Did I make the right decision?" circling in their heads. Their lives would too be affected, yes, but with time they would forget, the pain would go away, the anger would fade, the incomprehension would wither. But not for her - no, most definitely not for her. This decision, the one that she was facing in this very moment, would transform her in ways she had not even become to fathom. This d...

I don't know why I used that phrase - I hate it, and I'm not sure I quite get it. But I'll give it a try. Why must we (or is it only me?) have the need to have our cake and eat it too? Why can't we just let the cake be, knowing that the cake is ours. Why must we eat it? To not make the analogy more complex than it needs to be, why do I want to get married?! I live with a wonderful guy who loves me, who cooks deliciously, and who pays for all my expenses while in a foreign country (that last bit of information is sadly important, right?). Yes, we live in sin. But for all intents and purposes, we're married. Minus the document from the Holy Church. We do what married couples do: we sleep together (fully clothed, of course, just in case my parents are reading this!), we eat together, we go out together, we don't see other people, we don't behave ourselves inappropriately with other people; we go shopping together, sometimes I even manage to dress in the s...

When a conversation begins with, "Do you have a fear of heights?", you should already know that whatever comes next is not going to be good. Unless you have the opposite , some kind of acrophilia. Neither are my case. My answer was, "I have fear in general , but not specifically of heights..." --and I should have left it there, but I proceeded to ask, "Why?" I was then invited on a climbing trip  to a Kletternpark, or Hochseilgarten. Of course I said yes, because I was sure Honey would say no; it was to be on a weekday, and Honey works. In my mind, it was a perfect plan. Only that Honey took the day off and, before I realized what the heck was happening, a couple of days later a young, handsome man was asking my name while attaching my harness, my rope and my carabiners. "You do speak German, right?", he asked, because I was not answering any of his questions (which were, "How are you?" and "What's your name?"). ...