i have a chandelier

i have a turn of the (last) century chandelier in my home. it's the best!

mother lugged it over from france and i've been looking for a place in berlin that would fix it up. 

i recall biking by this place in kreuzberg, across from the u-bahn tracks. it is just unbelievable. haven't seen so many chandeliers since Versailles.

we've got crystal

they all had price tags on them, like, 5,000€ and stuff. the young friendly turkish guy hung mine in the doorway. the crystals rattled everytime the U5 came along. he estimated the age and then pointed to a very similar one, Frankreich, ja?

he said he would replace the missing crystals, clean it, put a new wire inside and give me a chain and a cup for the ceiling so it would look nice. it felt so fancy. less so when he said he would do it for 50€.

when i came back to pick it up he nodded his head "bicycle, no way. you need a car." so i went to find my new obsession, a drivenow car share and pulled up with a mini cooper. "mini cooper! much better!" he buckled her in the front seat and i was on my way. didn't even get a receipt. who cares, because now, i have a beautiful, entirely functional, turn of the century french chandelier in my hallway. right above the litterbox :) 

maybe?

there's a new marlboro ad campaign here around the word: maybe, like, don't be a maybe. though the ad i saw in the movie seemed ripped from a just do it nike ad but anyway, oddly enough, on the same s-bahn station platform you see this beauty:

an 8€ pregnancy test called "maybe baby" being sold from a vending machine that also had red bull, haribo gummies, rittersport and XL bi-fi rolls.

when i buy a pregnangy test, the last thing i want it to tell me is "maybe, baby." i'd want a clear yes or no?

or, maybe you shouldn't be buying your pregnancy test from a vending machine on a subway platform in the first place.

or maybe you just want another bi-fi roll.

Wider die Mudigkeit!

go to this! i am...

paint

ain't no party like a fireworks party

so in germany no one crosses the street when the light is red, you always wear your seat belt or helmet, and commercial food is clearly labeled - all for our safety, right? However, on december 29, 30, and 31 it's totally ok to buy as many professional fireworks as your pocketbook will allow and have yourself a festival of explosion that can send you and your neighbors to the moon. frighteningly non-dangerous from the german perspective.
before the holidays, i asked a friend where i can procure some fireworks to enhance my new year's celebration - i did this in a low voice, like you do in new york, where it's illegal, or maybe the stasi is listening. he laughed and said "anywhere!" as in, you walk left right up or down and every store is selling fireworks.
and he was totally right! at the aldi supermarket i picked up a family pack called "moonwalker" and then at the hardware store, i fought a kid and his dad for the last car battery sized box called "evil lights" and some more of these huge rockets sold under the name "sky explosion," and some 3 foot long SUPERMEGAMAX sparklers.you can even buy remote controlled stuff that explodes when you want it to. amazing.
upon returning home, my boyfriend, who declared he wanted nothing to do with fireworks this year proceeded to tear open the packages like i was santa claus and lit them right off the balcony. we smoked up the entire courtyard and rattled the windows with some 1/4 sticks of dynamite. i expected the doorbell to ring courtesy of the police, but the people across the way, sitting in their kitchen didn't even flinch. they proceeded to drink their tea, even as we pointed a roman candle directly at them.

ready to light up

so 10 minutes before new years, as we heard the roaring skies swelling with sound, me and 20 random party guests climbed a rickety ladder up to the treacherously wet and dangerous rooftop to see an endless display of colors and explosions. i thought for a second that maybe people wouldn't want us up there, trampling on their ceilings, but hey, there were other people, far more drunken than us hopping across the rooftops like chimney sweeps from mary poppins. the air was thiick with smoke that stung the back of my throat and burned my eyes. so this is what bahdad is like!

butnin' down the house

it was like a scene from a war zone, shock and awe in 360 degrees, complete insanity that lasted well ino the wee hours. all these people, spending all this money and blasting all this tnt - makes for a real swell evening! and so thankful for not blowing my hands off!

until next year...which will be even bigger and brighter!

berlin burger battles

mcdonald's, burger king, they are actually few and far between in berlin. mostly at train stations - and for good reason. homeless people and the punks with their dogs eat big macs all day long. so while new york is all cupcakes and bahn mi (ok, those are good), and washington dc is the new tossed salad capital, berlin is back to burgers, bro! 
in a block radius from my house there is the burgeramt, kreuzburger, burgermeister, and others which i can't name, and they all have the same recipe: a tiny 12 square meter space, organic beef, toppings, and weird choices that mimic pizza styles, like the hawaii burger (canadian bacon and pineapple)? and to my dear brother who seems to never worry about the bottom line: these places are always packed. these guys might be on their feet all day, but they are maxing relaxing when they come from the bank (imagine what you could do with sausages?). anyway, the burgeramt stays open until 4am, accompanied by requisite berlin techno music and it's a wonder the neighbors don't complain. maybe cuz the fries are so tasty. they even opened a sister sit-down place.
what's nice about berlin though, is the fries come with mayo and you can order different size patties, like normal, mini and super huge, and, if you're feeling veggie, you can go with haloumi. big old chunk of greek cheese. or, like the offer at my current favorite, berlin burger international in Neukoelln, you go all the way for the triple cheese double decker high ball: haloumi, cream cheese and tyroler, 2 patties, 3 buns. absolute ridiculousness, but when my friends ordered one the other night, and i only had potato wedges, i was slightly jealous. they are open sundays now, btw.

this little piggie gives a thumbs up

the thing about bbi though that tops the list of burger joints, is that you can get a stamp card (10th burger free) and all come with feld salat, what you call mache, (nice touch), fresh cucumbers, tomatoes, ketchup and mayo and a big toothpick to keep it all in place. i want another one. 

jever fun is so NOT fun!

when i first arrived in Berlin, i made extreme efforts to be social, like going out on sundays to madame claude's a little hangout in kreuzberg. on sundays there would be this open mic in a little back cave hosted by some hipster with a really thick funny german accent. lotz of zzz's. zo, ze next muzician eez...that kind of thing. the other novelty of madame claude's was that it was in a basement, and by that some sort of topsy turvy world where all this furniture was glued to the ceiling, tvs are upside down, so are coat racks, you get the idea. as such, the beer menus were also upside down.

what i like about mc's was their cheap beer selection, with several varieties of this jever brand. when at the bar i would peruse down - nay, up the menu for my cheapest selection: jever fun. looking back i recall a sortof smirk or under the breath laugh from the bartenders when i would order "ein mehr jever fun, bitte." i sometimes thought it was because i didn't tip or something, even though that's the norm - i'm no tourist you anglophone mockers. some nights i would have 4, 5 jever funs, though being a school night i would be sure to pace myself. never had a hangover. though never had an astounding time either. but props to jever fun for not compromising my monday

fast foward 13 months, at the most recent frisbee tournament where they modestly priced 1€ Jever varieties in between games.

do you have jever fun?? i asked eagerly.

no we don't.

why not?

why not? are you stupid? jever fun is non-alcoholic! why would we serve non-alcoholic at a frisbee tournament?

though that question deserves an answer - i quickly sunk into a funk so deep, like finding out someone has been sneaking 5€ bills out of my wallet all these years.

i've been duped! all those nights now making sense, and making an idiot of myself only powered by 0.05% or less alcohol that my grandmother would drink...the clean recollections of the night before, the tireness and barely mild mockable drunkenness.

in fact. jever fun is ANTI-fun!

good stuff this weekend

1. The weinhadlung & fahrschule is on my street. it's a driving school/wine distributor. and several pimpin' black mercedes. yes, yes, yes.

2. the chalkboard sign at my favorite ice cream shop now reads:
"flavor of the week: VANILLA"
sorry, no photo.

3. the holocaust memorial always looks different, everytime you go

4. graffiti

Seen in Mauerpark

...on a garbage can.

i'm moving to friedrichshain!

after 2 months of endless apartment -er, they call them "flats" here, like in england, at long last i found a place that was liveable, somewhat close to a u-bahn and doesn't have a brothel on the ground floor*
so, it's in friedrichshain, which i don't know too much about, but it has the secret movie threater, you can eat sri lankan food, see half demolished train depots, buy grungy locally designed clothing, go rock climbing on a historic tower, and get beat up by neo-nazis. and i have a private terrasse! coool!

*yes, at one place i visited, for which they were charging over 900€rent, the real estate agent didn't have the front door key, and no one would buzz him in, so he said, oh, maybe they're home and rang the "24h erotische salon" who of course let us in,. and after we entered we were greeted by a skankily clad..skanky lady who was erotically touching the doorknob. gross.

the berliner teller

every day on my way to work i pass the 'ecke kneipe:' the corner pub with red and gold signs that is on every corner of every street in berlin. you can't see in the window because there's all this junk, and flower and jagermeister signs. mine has an actual hobo drunk little character. red nose, jug with three x's on it.

friendly neighborhood hobo

these place have the same recipe: wood paneled walls, they serve schultheiss, they open at 8 am on tuesdays. because a drunk needs his fix on tuesdays, as much as mondays.
on my way to work i often pass the little chalkboard outside announcing the day's specials. during christmas they had duck and goose. on fridays they serve fish. always something with sauerkraut.
i never had the courage to go in there, it was a sortof last frontier i haven't been confident enough to encounter with limited german. then one my american house guests went it and said it was everything they expected from a german pub, and more. and last week, they started advertising the "berliner teller." a plate of two meatballs, a currywurst, a schnitzel, roasted potatoes, and it that's not enough, a fried egg. for 8 Euro.
i'm living in berlin. this is my corner pub. i must try this platter.
well, all in all it was about what you'd expect, delicious, 2000 calories of brown. took an hour to get served. and the meatballs were actually hamburgers. with mustard.
i signed up for the eisbeinessen the last saturday of the month, a special event you need to reserve 3 weeks in advance. they serve one thing: pork knuckle. i'm so there.

mixed nuts

one of the perks of living in little istanbul are these nut shops. like a deli that specializes in nuts, dried fruits and candy dates and stuff. there's a huge display case of little baskets of colorful nuts and assortments that you order in weighted quantities or whatever. there are picnic tables where people drink tea and eat sunflower seeds out of these giant bowls and spit out the shells onto the floor. the sidewalk and store are littered with shells that crunch under your feet. crrrunch.
now, i like sunflower seeds as much as ther next guy, but honestly, i have neither the patience nor mandibular prowess to eat more than one seed per minute. makes the whole thing very frustrating.
so they also have nut mixes.
a friend brought one of their nut mixes over once and it had all these delicious wasabi peas and cashews and you just wanted to put a handful in your mouth, but you would end up choking on a sunflower seed. why would they mix sunflower seeds into a perfectly edible and tasty mix?
so i am determined to come up with my own mix, the perfect variety and ratio of delicous nuts, without sunflower seeds. or raisins for that matter. this isn't trader joes trail mix. this is just nuts. i want to give planters a run for their money, and put utz pub and party mix to shame. my nut mix will be delectable, perfect, famous. 
so once a week after work i go to the nut place and order a bunch of diffferent nuts. they always try to sell me their selected mix, but no, i don't want any of yuor heimlich maneuver choking nuts, i'm gonna make my own. so ask them to mix all these different quantities of nuts into one bag. it took me several attempts to get them to do it, at first the guy was all sassy and giving me 5 little bags of nuts, and then complaining that i only ordered 100 or 150 grams at a time (does he really want me ordering a kilo of cashews? i will eat it all on the way home and then be sick). like i was wasting his time. one visit i got the guy to mix them up, but then he gave me grief about mixing sweet and savory. it's wrong, he said. seriously guy? you have a phD in nut science and you've never put sweet sesame almonds with salted blister nuts? what's wrong with you?
well, it's not perfected yet, but i have tried many different combinations and ratios and i will tell you that i have a mix so good, they should dedicate one of their little baskets to it. and i am telling you the receipe now, dear reader, so you can go and order it yourself, and get treated like dirt for your unorthodox ways, but i tell you, i never go to a movie without the following:

150 grams of roasted cashews (the dark brown ones)
200 grams of the wasabi peanut things. these weigh more, and they are the most delicious so always err on the side of a lot)
100 grams of sesame covered almonds (you need some sweet)
100g walnuts or hazelnuts, whatever you are in the mood for.
50g of the orange chick pea things. they'll complain that 100g is the minimum, but then you'll tell them that they aren't really good, it's just for color.
100g of the student mix - ok this is a decent mix that doesn't have sunflower, but a lot of other junk. good variety.

shake the bag around to ensure proper mixage. you now have 700g of deliciousness.  

fastest checkout guy EVER

so one of the stressful things about going to the big discount supermarket is that the checkout people are so fast, by the time you've found your debit card to hand over, your groceries are all piled up at the end of the moving carpet thing, and the next person's stuff is already threatening to topple and co-mingle. and these are small, european checkout counters, and you don't have the separator thingie so the whole line, as well as the cashier will be glaring at you, like hungry lions, their eyes saying "get your shit out of here so we can eat."
so you must prepare ahead of time. you get your money out, you arrange your bag in grocery collecting formation, plan your packing strategy far in advance, you put the heavy things in front. eggs last. stuff you can stick in your pockets in the middle. it takes a lot of planning and there is little room for error.
but nothing culd have prepared be for the tattooed guy at the ostbahnhof lidl with glasses so thick you underestimate his dexterity. guy was like a dog digging a hole. his hands were a blur, and there was nary a nano-second between beeps of the machine. he may have even just dragged everything at once over the sensor, like the guy who just won the pot during poker. i must have looked away for a tiny moment, pondering the impulse buy offerings and when i look over, he's leaning back, hands behind his head all proud. and all my stuff, piled up, mixed up senslessly, all that delicate forethought for nothing. as i got the glare from him and every homeless drunk in line behind with their plastic 6 pack of beer that they are paying for with the bottle refunds from yesterday night's binge. 
checkout: fail.

i have a new band! look!

http://anniehow.tumblr.com/post/3085890985/that-s-my-one-of-a-kind-girl-playing-the-cello

bargain basement beers

so the karstadt is your german department store, a fancy-ish Macy's if you will, that has your household goods, clothing, whatever. in german class, you learn the term "Kaufhof" the building where you buy things. i usually regard the karstaft and its sister stores with the same bland indifference i give a bloomingdales: you only go there if you really have to.
but i recently discovered a few things that quickly changed my mind! first, every kaufhof has a ridiculous supermarket inside. like, dean and deluca on cocaine meets whole foods in a saks fifth avenue. it's insane. a deli counter that would make my brother blush, sparkling organic produce, a hot sausage grill with bratwurst for 2Euro, kilometers of yogurt aisles, an international aisle that even has an "american" section with doritos and peanut butter. pretty much anything you could ever want or imagine. it's a guilty pleasure those secret supermarkets.
but the karstadt at hermannplatz in neukolln has another hidden gem: a pub. in the bargain basement, amidst bins of extra large brassieres adn underwear, leftover shirts from last season, a quite wonderful classic german style kneipe, a circular counter thingie in the middle of the store with a clientele strictly over 65, a few of whom are usually asleep over their drinks.
the bartender is a chipper old lady who blasts boney M mega mixes and the like to drown out the department store muzak, and eagerly invites you to friday happy hour! starts at 12 noon! only 1.5Euro beer!  i'm surprised there aren't more bored husbands, sick of waiting/watching their wives shop and tryon outfits. there are a few casino machines in one corner, a few tables where last time, octogenarians were eagerly swigging screw top mini bottles of champagne, there's a wheelchair accessible corner counter, free pretzels in plastic cups, what else could you ask for?

Schornsteinfeger wuz here

I have gotten two bright red notices on my apartment door about the Schornsteinfeger. the Schornsteinfeger has come by twice now, and is increasingly urgent about visiting my apartment. what the f is a Schornsteinfeger? i ask my german manpanion who can only come up with cryptic clues like, "he is the man in black" or "he comes down the tube" and all i could think was that a Schornsteinfeger is a santa claus in black? well  according to google übersetzer, that is a chimney sweep. i do not have a chimney, therefore i do not need a chimney sweep, correct? wrong.
manpanion says "he comes to check the poison in your radiator, he is here to save your life!" poison? i gather this is some sort of carbon monoxide test or something? (why would they only do that once a year?)
so, fine, i stay home from work to wait for the Schornsteinfeger, because apparently, the 4th time he comes you must pay. this is a free service, this Schornsteinfeger.
well, just like an american cable guy, he did not come within his alloted 3 hour time slot. he didn't even come 2 hours after his alloted 3 hour time slot. i knew that as soon as i would leave my house (perhaps make it to work before the end of the day?) he would show up. lo and behold, at 2:30 pm, there is a long-haired man at my door.
he wipes the snow off his shoes like crazy. uses both doormats. he is about to untie his boots when i say, it's kein problem. he is so polite, this Schornsteinfeger. i really should have offered him coffee, then again, i didn't know this whole procedure was going to take hours. he goes up to my bathroom, where the gas heater thing is, and i'm certain he must have sat on the toilet to make a caca or something, because seriously, he was up there a while. i'm putzing around, with my coat on, waiting for him to leave any minute. 
finally he comes downstairs with the paperwork. always paperwork. of course i must sign somewhere. i must agree with his assessment that only 4.7 parts per million poison are emitted from my bathroom gas heater! no need to worry! as it is under 1000 ppm. only then, do you worry. he has saved my life! my gasburner is in excellent shape! we are holding hands and jumping! no poison!
the Schornsteinfeger, now showing off that he speaks near perfect english AND french tells me that i will leave to see another year - that is, until his next visit in 2011 when he will return once again in order to reassure me of survival.
i thank the Schornsteinfeger, he asks for my number.. my number? to call you next year! of course! so you don't have to wait around! so polite. and then gives me a momento, a good luck charm if you will. why it is a little ramoneur, no larger than 4 cm, a man in black, with his rope and ladder.
Schornsteinfeger!  

the secret movie theater

i could tell you where the secret movie theater is, but then it wouldn't be secret anymore would it? and they probably wouldn't let me in next time. so no, you don't get to know where the secret movie theater is.

my manpanion invited me on a secret evening, he wouldn't tell me where. it's a secret. we were wandering lost, in the falling snow, when he finally said "here it is!" and knocked on a window of some dimly lit apartment that appeared to have a bar in it. they open the window and you climb onto a box and then into their little living room. lots of dim red lighting, strange people and weird furniture (a chair made out of a shopping cart) and all very quiet, i felt like i walked through the window of a stanley kubrick film. we paid 8 euro total for 2 tickets and 2 large beers for the evening's showing of Inception with Leo DiCaprio.
we enter throguh a curtain to the back room and there is actually some sort of stadium seating, with random movie theater chairs/church pews and couches on various levels. i wanted the comfy couch, but it appeared to be fully reserved by the small shaggy grey dog who snarled when i approached. we grabbed our seats instead in one of the 4 rows uneven, were handed an ashtray and some peanuts and pulled out some packages of haribo candies frm ourbag. the old guy next to us was smoking some rather pungent weed.
the theater set up is a mess of electronics in one corner, and a projector on the ceiling pointing at a sheet. my aunt's theater room in her new bethesda townhouse is far more fancy than this. (hint to babs: start your own speakeasy movie theater!)
there was a lot of commotion between the "employees" a ragtag bunch of longhaired druggies with black hooded sweatshirts with dragons on them. there was a new dvd playe r, but someone had misplaced the remote. is it under your seat? at the bar? in between hte cushions of the couch - hey dog, move. so we were then asked to vote: we either watch the movie dubbed in german, or wait 5 minutes and use the old dvd player, which doesn't work so well. the other french moviegoers adn myself voted for takin the risk with the old dvd player. and thank goodness, because i am not sure i would have understood the whole level 3 dream within a dream within a dream concept in german.
so i viewed the whole movie through a mist of smoke, people knocking over beer bottles and the growling dog, but i must say, it might be the best movie theater ever. and they show old star trek episodes every monday. if you want to go, just let me know, i might be able to get you in...

only in berlin

this is berlin kunst edition

every time you come across a table of edible poo, it is generally accompanied by the universal sigh, "only in berlin."

i get it, i eat artist shit

berlin and its affordable lifestyle supports an entire sub population of under-appreciated artists and creative types, we do all love that. we just wish we could filter out the crap sometimes. or, there are some nights when it just doesn't matter.

take nacht und nebel, or night and fog, a wonderful evening of anything goes. street after street, every gallery or whatever space in neukoln open its doors to wonderful craziness. you purchase a large 1liter beer and take it with you as you enter place after place thinking, the next one can't be this weird, let's stay here for a while. butthe next one surpasses the one before that, it never ends.

exhibit a. boomerangs..and stuff.

exhibit b. the bicycle powered dj hip hop show. this place had a tv showing something, a documetary of who cares because here come the guys in spandex! backed by a plastic sheet showing vintage cycling clips, dj cycle 1 and 2 flank mc ridiculous. 

tour de DJ

  

so then, when you come across a glowing mannequin on fire, it's not so weird anymore..

how to embarass yourself in front of co-workers

on a friday ngiht after work, an NGO nearby had an office-warming. i'm thinking free drinks and food why not. so we go there and it's this 1984 cement GDR/DDR marvel. small offices with small windows, lime green walls and padded doors (so the SS don't hear what you're up to), foward-thinking unisex bathrooms and cramped hallway corridors.

urinals are out of order

 in the small conference room there were munchies erdnuss flips (look like cheese puffs, only peanut flavor -heaven) and socially conscious beer and organic white wine. there were some rather long speeches, during which my colleagues would periodically poke me and ask if i understand. this happens a lot. and so as usual, i nod, sure, as in yes, i udnerstand most of it, but honestly it's just really boring so i eventually zone out and stop listening and wonder what bratislava is like or what i will eat later. this is also true for most meetings and discussions, sorry.

so after the terribly long and boring speeches, and one rather funny intern showed pictures of the old parking spaces, my wonderful colleagues and i sigh at the prospect of friday night networking. we examine our empty wine glasses, promptly fill them up and wander out to the stairwell where a DJ has recently set up. i don't know who said it, but i heard it "we might as well just dance."

my wine glass was magically refilled and there you go, 730pm dance party. i may have done something that qualifies as "grinding." our organization was the sole one represented on this dance floor, though i did try desperately to get the cute intern to join us, he just seemed to think we were aliens.
 there were glares are questionable stares and "are they really dancing like that" but you know what, we just proved who is more fun, and who will probably not get invited back to the christmas party.  

new building mural on my street

a few weeks ago some guys in grey hoodies showed up every morning at 7 am (early risers!) to repaint the building next door. they worked confidently on this large image with nothing but notes to follow. i never heard them mutter a single word, they were like graffiti ninjas as the little turkish kids who live in the apartments would open their windows or come out on the street and ask what are you doing? what color is that? why are you wearing a mask? what is that for?

 what are you going to do there?