Finally. I've been very disciplined and abstained from updating all day. In the morning it was quite difficult to concentrate with all those thoughts racing through my mind.. By now - thanks to work, which works pretty well as a tranquillizer - I'm normal (sort of) again..

As to yesterday, or rather yesterday evening. Just as I had started writing an E-Mail, Eric spontaneously called me and asked whether I'd like to join Mariko and him for a drink. Of course! True to the slogan of this week's calendar sheet: "Ja da simma dabei, das is pri-i-ma..." Or more precisely, since unfortunately none of you was here: "Ja da bin I dabei..." So, I'm sorry little brother, but you'll have to wait another day for reply. But I'm sure you understand - after all "brother" is none of the items on our DDWHDW-list (Die Drei Wichtigsten Hauptsachen Der Welt), while an evening out with Eric involves all of them:

• Football:
Eric personifies football. You can't meet Eric without talking about football and even if you have a conversation about something completely differently he will manage to include a matching football analogy or quote from a player or coach. Quite amazing. (Unless you hate football.)

• Beer:
I was craving for some pints. After I watched Eric play, which was right to the day two weeks ago - I had only one pint after helping the girls mo move and one after Heritage Festival on Saturday and Sunday's lunch at Lilla's was accompanied by a glass of red wine (actually Raspberry Wine or something like that). In conclusion: I had been close to abstinent. Hmm. Out of training. As my last meal was at lunchtime maybe I should have had the entrée (Beef Dip) before the dinner (4 pints), because when being midway through the third (and finally got my non-liquid foooood) I was well aware that my English had already become much slower and my accent much thicker. Uhh. The beer, by the way, was Alexander Keith's India Pale Ale because it was on special yesterday. The glasses (you can see them on their webpage), are actually quite steal collectible. But as the pubs have people who checks the IDs (and possibly also check the number of people allowed to enter) they also see you leaving, and I neither wanted to go to prison nor be prohibited from ever entering O'Byrne's again. Especially not now:

• Women:
Are of course always involved when going out. Just admiring from a distance of course. Apart from one funny episode: The last time I had been in O'Byrne's was when watching Germany vs. Argentina (Ouch!), aaaages ago. But yesterday, just when we took our seats in O'Byrne's this cute waitress (which was the most pleasant sight that very day and also a longer lasting one than Argentina's lead) passed the table, smiled and me and said:
"I remember you."
"I remember you too."
"That's good!"
"It would be hard not to do so.."
So after all, it seems that watching Germany's victory had it's good aspect too. It was just too sad that our table was served by another waitress..
And since yesterday I ask myself constantly. Why did she remember me?
1) Because it's her job to remember people, be nice to them so that they return and she receives higher tips.
2) Because within those six weeks I was the only redheaded customer.
3) Because nobody ever smiled so warmly at her than I did that day, and she immediately felt deep in her heart that I was an extremely nice guy and...
Well, well difficult to decide which one is most likely, isn't it?
Hmm, whatever, somehow I feel I might have beer there soon again. Next Tuesday? In case we would go there and I would see her when entering, what if I asked her: "Which table do we have to pick if we wanted to be served by you?" (Daydreams of a shy guy..) Would that be
A) nice and charming
B) flat and impudent
C) ...
Honest answers and alternative suggestions warmly welcome..

Well that was the evening pretty much. I decided to take a very, very quiet alley for cycling home as, well, my driving skills where, well, slightly unstable, to put it this way. So I arrived home safely without injures or ticket. Talking about tickets, I another story comes into my mind, but I think I'll really make it another story for another day.

Nur ein letztes noch. Ich habe die ausserordentliche Ehre, die Postkarten Bronze Medaille zu verleihen und zwar an

<> <> <> <> <> <> <> < Papa > <> <> <> <> <> <> <>

Aus dem exquisiten Lech am Arlberg. Tja, es scheint wir sind offenbar doch eine noble Familie!
Folglich sind die Medaillen damit vergeben, aber nichtsdestotrotz verursachen Postkarten auch weiterhin noch unbaendige, kindliche Freude und waermste Gefuehle des Dankes und der Zuneigung, und das ist letztendlich ohnehin der groesste Preis, oder?

Vorsicht!
Auf den Wasserfall folgt nun der Redeschwall.

I'm in a very talkwritative mood today.
I think if I could I would go on and on and on with writing.
Not that my work doesn't involve enough writing.
But I mean, writing with brain.
Not that my work doesn't require enough brain and concentration.
But I mean, writing without brain. Or at least not with that much brain. Or maybe with another part of the brain. Chit-chatting, just following my weird creative mind to wherever it takes me - I'd be in the perfect mood for a stream of conciousness text..
Unfortunately (probably fortunately for you) work is calling...
But beware: "I'll be back." (© Arnie)
"Is this a threat?" - "No it's a promise." (© countless movies but I've no time no to google one of them)