My first 3 months of residing in Hamburg coincided with the Quarter Away internship of the fantastic Larry and Emmie from Miami Ad School. As we know from any internship at any advertising agency that would like to be taken seriously, interns are worked to the bone.

On leaving Hamburg three weeks ago, Larry expressed his huge desire to take pictures of the city, because well, he hadn’t been able to do it at ALL during the past 3 months. We took it as the perfect opportunity to get TOURISTY all over Hamburg!




That’s the thing with my lifestyle right now. Moving from country to country for work reasons has thrown me each and every time into an immediate "normal life" mode, where I have to adapt to a full-time job, and a very boring, constant lifestyle.

Which makes TOURISTING AROUND FUN!



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Harbouring emotions of JOY
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Port of Hamburg is the second largest harbour in Europe, and is also called Germany’s "Gateway to the World". We decided to take a harbour boat tour around the River Elbe.



After a delectable Putenbrust mit Kase Salat from Mangold’s (Turkey and Cheese Salad: one of the first German words I EVER learnt here) we were ready.




It was the typical Hamburg grey and cloudy day. Armed with our cameras, we were the perfect camera family. Aun with Papa Camera, Larry with Mama Camera, and me with Itsy-Bitsy Baby Camera. Aun’s MILLION dollar camera with the monster lens took that gorgeous picture of Larry – the SHALLOW DEPTH OF FIELD IS INCREDIBLE!




Makes for the perfect updated fairy tale of the MODERN ERA!

We were incredibly excited once we were on the boat, and as the river breeze refreshed our tired little pores, Larry uttered the following EPIC words: "This is the first time I’ve been happy in the past 3 months." Me too, Larry… me too.


To savor this perfect moment, we went for the perfect snack.



In contemplation of the beautiful Cornetto. Portrait once again courtesy of Aun.




Larry G. looks tough even under the most mundane circumstances.




Photo nerd alert! Photo nerd alert! That icecream became quite the international superstar.




We had missed the only English tour of the day, so we had to deal with the constant German jibber-jabber uttered from the loudspeakers. It was so monotonous that it wasn’t difficult at all to just tune it out, shoot away at the view and make our own interpretations of everything.




Why am I always hungry? What’s WRONG with me? Is my tapeworm just RAVISHINGLY out of control?




"Parallelogram": Now THAT’S a word I never thought I would ever say again after the long-gone days of geometry class.




A slow boat to China. Ah stinky tofu, how I miss thee.




Tug area.






Aun’s spectacular photographs of mythical harbour monsters create the perfect ending to our boat trip. We head back inside the ship, and...




...Larry WHIPS out his GRILLZ!!!!! How cool is that??? (yes, this picture was taken by super-camera too.)




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now we go UNDER the river
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------




OMG OMG OMG! I take on my best Japanese tourist stance and pose next to the gummy yummy Haribo bear!!!

I love you…




Another landmark in Hamburg is the tunnel that goes UNDER the river Elbe. In the old days, cars used this medium to cross the river. Cars seemed so much smaller back then.




Why so mad, Auuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun?




The perfect setting for a TEENAGE HORROR MOVIE.




The tunnel was quite cool and echoey, but after venturing into it for 4 minutes or so, we decided that it was just an immense length of the same thing, and we turned back and left.

MODERN LIFE, how I LOATHE THEE for conditioning us to a ridiculously short attention span!




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DOM DOM DOM!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After heading back to the St. Pauli area, we received a VERY PLEASANT SURPRISE!!! The DOM (carnaval) was back in town!!! The circus had left, and had taken away the constant stench of ELEPHANT POOP that seemed to be in the air all the time!

It was time to embrace our INNER WHITE TRASH! WOOHOO!




After a well-deserved hiatus following Christmas, the Cookie Heartz were back!




Bumper cars???!! Must. Get. On. One. A.S.A.P.






Coloured stripes in the décor make us very very happy.


I seem to have a fetish for FOOD with HUMAN TRAITS.





Especially if they dance so SULTRILY – what HYPNOTIZING HIPS Hunky Corn Cob has! Just imagine him all oiled up in melted butter, how can you NOT resist?? :!




A DONER PLUSH TOY? The mere thought of cuddling up with a cushy doll of MEAT sends shivers up my spine!




Sadly, not all doners can be that wholesome and cute, and can engage in racy ménage-et-trois with baked potatoes. Doner plush toy, you better put TABS on your WOMAN!




Whole new definition of "plastic breasts".




This just BLEW my mind. As the jester LAUGHED MANIACLY non-stop, people behind him were encased in a room filled with optical illusions and mirrors, feeling their way blindly and awkwardly. It was pure insanity!




All in all it was just a HUGE area of crazy frenzy. RIGHT UP MY ALLEY! I really need to come back.




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE REEPERBAHN
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon enough, Aun had to leave, and Larry and I went on our quest to find gifts to take back to America for his girlfriend. And which is the most touristy part of Hamburg? Why, the infamous Reeperbahn or Red Light District of course!

By now, the memory card in my camera was already filled to the brim with new memories, and I had to rely on Larry to take pictures of the remainder of this lovely Saturday.




The Reeperbahn, shimmering in the early evening light.


Unlike the Red Light district in Amsterdam, where everyone can gawk all they want at the prostitutes posing in their shopping windows, women are prohibited in Herbertstraße, or as I like to call it, Hooker Street. I have always been curious about this little street because it is so off limits to us galz, so I coaxed Larry into taking me there to take a peek.




Hooker Street border.




I pose by the "No entrance for juveniles under 18 years of age and women" sign, then ponder slightly at the possibility of becoming a WHORE, then judge a man who is leaving the vicinity with my eyes.

A true roller-coaster of emotions.



We scurried off to a souvenir store to get some authentic St. Pauli garb. The St. Pauli logo is a cool skull and crossbones emblem, emblazoned on a whole plethora of objects: lunchboxes, shot glasses, T-shirts, toaster ovens, bags, scarves, toy guitars, etc.




Larry inspects a pair of cute boy shorts for his girlfriend. He informed me that the TRICK is to buy a slightly smaller pair of underwear so that the derriere overflows a bit, thus creating a sexy optical illusion of some sort.

Oh Larry G., how I miss your wisdom.

It was a great day.




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AND A DONER ON TOP
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On Larry’s last day in Hamburg, he came by the agency for a last lunch. We were absolutely APALLED that he hadn’t tried one of the TRADEMARK dishes in Hamburg, the DONER!

So after a accusatory yelling fest of HOW it was possible that he hadn’t tried a doner in the past 3 months that he had been here, we grabbed him by his ultra-hip Transformers hoody and dragged him to Mr. Kebab.




Mrs. Kebab Senior, is that you? How amazing is this portrait? (Why am I asking so many questions in this post?) Well I will tell you that it is JUST as amazing as the doners here.




Equally amazing is Larry’s transformers hoodie.




And as Larry gives us an uncertain look before taking his first bite…




…Aun, of "What’s for lunch tomorrow?" fame, swallows his doner WHOLE. Just like the MALAYSIAN PYTHON that he is.

Yum!




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MY GIRLY UPDATE
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Last but not least, I have been collecting girly points these past few weeks with Talke as my guru. A pivotal moment in this journey was when I tried on a pair of patent red leather heels at Talke’s. It was originally meant as a joke, but I kind of like the way it looked, especially with my baby blue socks!





Then Beau very cleverly showed me a reference of why this apparently strange colour combination just seemed so right.




"There’s No Place Like Home!"

...But where IS home, I ask?... le sigh.

One of the biggest risks of working in such a male-dominated ad agency is to lose touch with your femininity. Advertising is already quite a masculine industry (it kind of sucks to admit it, but it’s true), and for a woman to be successful, it seems like you have to grow a set of balls (or two).

I am not the most girly-girl to begin with – makeup has never been part of my daily routine, I rarely wear skirts, and I spend a maximum of 5 minutes in front of the mirror each morning, 15 if I go somewhere "nice". You can call me a low maintenance gal.

Recently though, it has reached an all-time low. If I had a beauty column in some magazine, this is probably what it would look like.



I know, more like Diary of the Slob.

And, I would be the least flirty paper doll ever.



Zero accessories. Zero anything. I guess I just don’t care anymore, who would I dress up for anyway if I am working overtime practically every day and every weekend?

So yeah, being surrounded by rowdy lads all day long at work has made me lose touch with my second X chromosome. FINE, fart and poop jokes are funny from time to time. Dry hump your equally male co-worker and I might release a tiny giggle. Burp in my face for all you want, and I really will not feel offended at all. I can be quite a guy’s gal.

It is when you finally get a great girl’s night out that you notice how much you have missed it, and how as a girl, you need that in your system. I haven’t had one in so long. The great Grey’s Anatomy Thursday nights at Anne’s apartment in New York, the yummy nights with Anna and Blake on South Beach, and the little Sex and the City moments in Shanghai with other ex-pat gals seem so long ago.




-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
A night with Heidi
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Talke and her friend Stela invited me to go to their friend Hilke’s apartment to watch Germany’s Next Top Model. This invitation was just too good to be true, so I just bailed on work, and GOT THE HELL OUT OF THERE.

After stopping at the supermarket and picking up some CRUCIAL INGREDIENTS, off we went to Hilke’s. I have to say, girls here really know how to decorate apartments – from what I’ve seen, they are all so stylish, quirky and cool.



A beautiful lamp – such attention to detail.




Cute little kitchenware make me go into a RAGE OF JEALOUSY!




Hilke was already waiting for us with quite a setup: a delectable salad with oranges, peanut sauce, mushrooms, greens, beets, and who knows what other deliciousness DOUSED in vinaigrette; strawberries; and olives. We were late. :!

So we got right to work on dinner! And by "we" got to work, it meant that while:



Hilke managed the pizza dough,




Stela chopped the tomatoes up,




and Talke buttered up the baking pan,

I walked around taking pictures of them slaving away while being COMPLETELY USELESS. gaaaaaaaah…




Cheers!




This was when I realized that I hadn’t watched German TV at ALL since I arrived in this country 3 months ago. And Germany’s Next Top Model was the perfect show to start with since not a single BRAIN CELL was needed to understand what was going on regardless of the language barrier.




So we settled down with our piping hot pizza and a glass of red wine in the lovely living room.




DRAAAAAAMAAAA!




Oh, you know that episode… When all the girls get extreme makeovers to start their impending quest to be Next Top Model. Tears are shed EVERYWHERE, just like this poor girl who cried her eyes out in the toilet as the hairdressers took her extensions out. Then she loved herself as she examined her new PLATINUM BLONDE PIXIE CUT in the mirror, and German sass overflowed.

Yay, Gina-Lisa!




Nope, no Tyra Banks here. Instead, Head Model In Charge is none other than Heidi Klum. Her voice in German isn’t as whiny and squeaky as it is in English, but she is just as annoying. Talke pointed out a good "cross-marketing" moment, when a Seal song played in the background during a particularly emotional segment.


And what is the natural thing to do after watching a group of skinny-minnies shake their minuscule booties up and down the catwalk?







Stuff our faces with creamy chocolate-chocolate chip icecream, of course! While watching the 10 top most Scandalous Moments ever.

You got to love German TV when you get to see R. Kelly’s sex romp with a 14 year old when you least expect it! *blush*


And what could possibly be the PERFECT ending to such a wonderful girl’s night? Just like the perfect "end gag" or "twinkle in the eye" moment that is so loved in German advertising (according to what I have learnt so far at JvM) Hilke responded by WHIPPING OUT HER ACCORDION!




Hilke taught us the basics,




Stela played with a jolly spring in every chord,




…and then Talke surprised us all with a contemporary twist on a Beethoven classic.




Then I closed our little JAM SESSION with an aura of bright-eyed innocence of memories of yesteryear.



THIS is the true future of Girl Power, folks.


It was a great night, and now I’m looking forward to the next girlie-outing: SHOPPING! Really… sometimes who cares what ad campaign is going to win the next Gran Prix at Cannes?





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Easter
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

So here I am, working on Good Friday. But it’s all good, because yesterday we got a special visit.



Easter bunnies with Easter TREATS! It is a custom over here at JvM, where a member of the board and Carlos, our maintenance guy dress up and spread happiness to the whole agency. I got really excited, and being the big LAME-O that I am, I asked for a picture with them!

Someone should have SLAPPED me and said: "This ain’t DISNEYLAND you FOOL!"

And I would have retorted: "Oh, it’s even better than Disneyland… it’s even better…"




GET IN MY BELLY!

Once every three weeks or so, us employees in this hectic advertising world get to rub our eyes in glee and venture out into the sunlight and the outside world. These weekends are absolute bliss.

Rarely, a bunch of us from work will actually decide to spend even MORE hours together staring into each other’s unbearable faces, and have din-din together! It is always a special treat – although the goal to talk about our work troubles and advertising as little as possible is not an easy feat AT ALL.

Aaaah... but the burgers at Hatari. They have the power to shut our mouths long enough to not talk about the little annoying happenings at the office for at least an hour or two.




Elegantly gothic menu.




Emmie, Steffi, Fabio and Gun (with his invisible beverage) toast to a hearty meal.




As we wait, time is killed by converting a tool of ROMANCE into a CHILDISH game of DARE.




And we reminisce on what happened earlier during the day in video mode on Dan’s camera.




We were seated in the smallest table possible, but we avoided elbowing each others faces off, and dug into our delicious meal. My fave is the Bruschetta burger. *droooool*



And then we ventured off to „Get hammered" (quote courtesy of Emmie, but that we never accomplished) at some fancy schmancy Miami-type lounge called Mandarin.



I have a weakness for wallpaper, and want to drape myself in rolls and rolls of it for the next red-carpet event.





The ever so poised Steffi, puffing on a cigarette.


We found ourself WHINING and CRYING about the depressing topic of work again, but luckily, there was a Playstation to just SHUT US ALL UP, and end the WHOLE CONVERSATION ALTOGETHER!



*crickets chirp*




They had a Celebrity Deathmatch game! Here we have Justin Timberlake vs. Marilyn Manson. The way JT just FARTS songs all over the place is sheer GENIUS!


We sat next to this huge projected screen where we could spy on the dance floor and scope out the HOTTIES. Then the ultimate hottie of all (me, of course, le DUH) went down there with Fabio and danced and mugged for the camera.



No, this is not a fuzzy Big Foot video.




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
LOVE STORIES AT THE SATURDAY SCHANZEN FLEA MARKET
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks back, Dan had the mission to buy a chair for his room. When Dan, Talke and I went there for the first visit, I absolutely fell in love with a particular piece of furniture.




Until then, I hadn’t realized that falling head over heals in love with an inanimate object could be possible, but it happened to me, and it was a wonderful experience. I decided then and there to leave it to destiny: if this exquisite half-orange little table was still there after we had lunch, I would buy it and settle down in Hamburg.

Big deal, eh?

Sadly, after our meal, that little orange table that stole my heart had already been taken away out of my cold, cold life, never to be seen ever again.

So the settling down in Hamburg thing is still up in the air. Who knows what may happen.



But, the IMPORTANT thing is that after a few more repeated visits to the flea market, Dan found the perfect chair.







‚Twas a rare sunny day.




And there she was.




It was love at first sit.




And they lived happily ever after (for only 21 euros!)




We took her back to the office, up in the elevator...




...and then CELEBRATED by going to an organic supermarket! It was absolutely amaizin’.




I bought an organic chocolate bar with lemon yogurt filling, which sounded completely DERRANGED to me, but surprised me by being DELISH!



----------------------------------------------------
A MINI-REUNION
----------------------------------------------------



This is Mini-Bush, who joined in on the mild organic fun. He’s owned by Frenchie of Miami Ad School/Strawberry Frog fame, Mathieu. I met Mini-Bush during my stay in Boulder, Colorado, and after Mathieu left him forgotten and alone in his office, I decided to take him under my wing. During the one year and a half he has been with me, he has travelled to Los Angeles, New York, Hong Kong, Shanghai, and now Hamburg.

Not too shabby for a squeezie toy!




At the Pony Bar – an image full of contrasts: Dan’s beaming smile, gorgeous purple flowers, and a CRUDE FINGER, flipping the whole world off. I feel hurt.




Mint tea and organic chocolate creates beauty in symmetry.




Mini-Bush oogles the lemony chocolate.




Look, it’s Mathieu in a whirlwind weekend trip to Hamburg! He certainly has blossomed into a full-fledged hipster. We met up with him and his lovely girlfriend Talke at the flea market where he purchased this awesome lampshade, and we ventured off to a thrift store.




Who wants to be on team Shelley?




We move on to the Sofa Bar, where Mini-Bush goes back to Papa.




(Picture stolen from Mathieu’s flickr)
This is when Talke had the interesting observation that I am a Sitreise, or in other words, a Sitting Giant. In all the pictures I have been taken with Dan, I have noticed that I look absolutely HUGE compared to him, which is incomprehensible due to the fact that I am one of the shortest people I know.

Simple reason: I have a GYNORMOUSLY LONG torso and STUBBLY legs which not only makes me a freak of nature, but also look taller when I’m seated.




Makes sense.




The fantastic Astra beer logo, pride of the St. Pauli brewery.




Talke and Mathieu. How perfectly color-complementary couples irk me and send me into a sea of loneliness!

*gaaaa*




Mini-Bush ponders intently as he stares out of his glass cage. Farewell, little one.



----------------------------------------------------
THE THING WITH CAFÉS HERE...
----------------------------------------------------

...Is that they are ALL so cool that in the end, none really seem that cool. It’s a thing of relativity. In the same way, ALL people in this neighbourhood are so artsy and hip, that in the end, WHO is really artsy and hip?
At this point, wayfarers and palestinian scarves just don’t seem that cool anymore.

ANYHOO, since ALL cafes and bars are cool but not cool at the same time, we just go to Zoe’s aka The Sofa Bar as a default. It is warm and cozy, complete with luxuriously comfy old sofas.




Ambient.




Perhaps Dan and Gun spend too much time together.




Talke, as pwettae and FASHION-FORWARD as always.




I get really self-conscious after a moderately drastic haircut, so I like to hide it during the first few days.




NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!


fin.

I have certainly taken my sweet-ass time to write this blog, but wow… has it been a draining few months. But it's all good, I have "settled down" yet AGAIN in a new location, and I am currently a legal resident of the lovely city of Hamburg, Germany.

This moving thing is getting old. But ANYHOO.



This would be the lovely apartment building where I live now, located on Sternstrasse and a mere 10 minutes walk away from the office.




And this would be the mighty Trojan horse of Jung von Matt that I worship each day when I get to work.



-----------------------------------------------------------------------
THE AGENCY
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Because 99.9% of my life right now revolves around work (sadly, I also have the recurring dream about being in the office and working), it seems like a logical place to start my update.

I am working at JvM/9 which is the special forces of the agency. When other departments can't crack a particularly tough brief, have pitches or are simply overloaded with work, they pick up the phone and call us!!! We are like a SWAT TEAM!

but I have feeeeeeeeble arms and poor eyesight…*defeated sigh*




This was my über-messy desk. I make it messy on purpose to seem like I have SO much on my plate right now – a mirage of sorts. At the time of this photograph, I was preoccupied with a time-consuming arts & crafts project involving lego ninjas! FUN! …until I got SICK of it and killed everyone at the agency.


On that note,



…this is my co-worker Henning, and he has an axe at work! Here he is breaking his strict no-carb diet by chopping up some chocolate cake after he got back from vacation. Yummerz!

And here he is in ACTION!




http://youtube.com/watch?v=qwEWGPV962g




On the other side of the HUMANOID spectrum is Dan, the token English native-speaker of JvM/9. Not only that, but he was my savior during my Quarter Away in London when he DRUNKEDLY YELLED at me to not be tied down to the wrong overbearing partner for the rest of my life!




He has an awesome vintage typewriter.




…where he types little nuggets of wisdom on Post It Notes…




…and on euro-bills!




This is Aun, from Malaysia. He was my first partner at the agency – cool guy. Boo. He looks sad here.




But now he's all *YAY!*, being infected by the contagiously Brazilian optimism of Ricardo. Oh how they find positivity in the bleakest moments is beyond me.




Sometimes things get rough, and Ricardo will go to extreme measures.




More Brazilian sassyness brought to us by Fabio, who doesn't always look like that, and Gun, from Thailand.




Latin stud over here is my current partner, Sergio from Chile.

Ay caramba!

Yes, we are VERY United Nations, aren't we? A very immature United Nations, but brilliantly international all the same.




Proof of requisite immaturity that is always present in an ad agency.




We are SPOILT BRATS that need to be reminded again and again to put everything in the dishwasher by ourselves. It obviously doesn't work and we are disgusting PIGS.




Mutant Godzilla is my lover.




I sometimes drown in excessive sweetness.




Earphones are forbidden here, because it "disrupts the creativity between us", but we occasionally rebel against this rule, and so do our mouses. (mice?)




If I were remotely good at kicker, (or fooseball for some of you FOOLS) I would be a much more successful creative here in Germany. And perhaps someone would actually want to be friends with me.




Even bananas here mock me.

*le tear*




But at the end of the day, when such specimens of manliness roam the hallways, you can't help but realize that everything will be a-okay.




-----------------------------------------------------------------------
WHAT'S FOR LUNCH?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A crucial question we are eager to answer every day.



Excitemeeeeent!




Currywurst is always a guilty pleasure of ours, a delight that is only reserved for once a week.




Happy family!


Kharma is from Egypt, and he left us a few weeks ago to go back to his beloved Cairo with his family. What better opportunity than for us to have a nice lunch together? When we are feeling fancy, we like to go Italian.




:!




A picture taken 2 seconds before Emmie, one of our awesome interns this quarter from MAS, throws up all over EVERYONE due to Dan's suffocating CHARM.


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I cannot see my food.




But I manage to brush the hair away from my fat face just in time for a last picture with Kharma.





I'm rich!


Because we love Kharma so much, we had ANOTHER farewell lunch! This time, we went to Hatari, an AWESOME hamburger place. And delicious burgers turn the manliest of men into mushy and sensitive little puppies. AAW.





This is Larry, our other intern from MAS, from none other than the homebase on South Beach!




United Colors of Bene-WHORE.




Still life shot of what our arteries are getting clogged with. But it tastes OH-SO-GOOD.




And last but not least, Kharma takes a picture in front of his favourite haunt: „Lu's".

*HAPPY CHOPSTICK SIGN!*




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IDLE NIGHTS
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

During my first two months here, I would really not look forward to going back to my apartment. I think I have outgrown the roommate period of my life, and I guess I spoilt myself with that beautiful palace-like living space I had in Shanghai.

So what would I do? Naturally, stay at the office till the wee hours of the morning.




Bored, nostalgic, probably having an ichat or msn session with Y O U.


And at around 3 or so, when my eyelids have gotten heavy, I start my slow and quiet walk home. One thing I have grown to enjoy is window-shopping after the stores are closed. Somehow the merchandise seems so much more appealing and interesting to me. I have gone to all these stores afterwards during the daytime, and it's just not the same.




Winter sale!




Hipster suits. The man who can pull of that orange square ensemble will have stolen my heart forever.

Whisk me away, to a galaxy of citrusy lurve!




A hairdresser that I am utterly INTRIGUED by. There is only one client there at a time, and he or she is always facing the window while getting their haircut. It's like a makeover show for the passersby!




Nice wall art outside of an apartment building.




Cool shoes that I wouldn't think twice of buying. Alas, they are for CHILDREN and I didn't bind my feet in China to be able to mash them in there. :(




I have to walk up 4 flights of stairs each time to get to my apartment. *WORK THOSE GLUTES, GIRRRRLFRIEEEEND!*




My room.
Yeah, I know.




My entertainment system – the good ol' reliable Powerbook, and an armful of delightully pirated DVDs from Shanghai. Oh! And I have been doing well with my New Year's Resolution for 2008 – I am reading The Elephant Vanishes by Haruki Murakami, and I LOVE IT!

First finished book in quite some time!




-----------------------------------------------------------------------
PWETTAE
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

St. Pauli is such an artsy area, and there is great street art all over. A few SPECIMENS a few blocks radius from home and work.










TSCHUSS, BABEZ!

I spent several days between Christmas and New Year's in the incredible city of Berlin. I had never really thought of visiting it, heck, I had never even thought I would end up working in Germany, but due to destiny I am here and will see how it all goes.

Ben and I decided on what would be an excellent idea at the time to meet up in Berlin. I was excited, and got myself a bus ticket and left on the 27th of December.



------------------------------------------------------------------
Christmas cheer
------------------------------------------------------------------
Even though it was already a few days past Christmas day, the spirit was still very much palpable.




Christmas fun on the streets of Ku'damm.




The Memorial Church which had gone through a lot of destruction during the war, but is currently in restoration.




Shimmer shimmer lights are always oh-so-pretty.


I insisted on having Bratwurst.



So Ben did what seems like to be Da Bratwurst Rap. "yo yo... "




*CUTEZY DROOLZ*




Another yummerz fair food is fruit covered in chocolate. Ben had mentioned chocolate covered grapes, and how good they tasted even though he couldn't eat them because he was allergic to grapes. So I bought a stick and CHOMPED them ALL BY MYSELF.




Ah, Tis Count Apfeldracula, ja?




There was a fun Bumble Bee spinning ride at the fair, and the most JOLLY beekeeper you will ever lay your eyes on.




After strolling around the Christmas fairs, nothing tastes better than a warm cup of refueling liquid. While Ben was unlucky enough to get the honey/lemon mixture, which according to him tasted absolutely horrific, my adventurous palette directed me towards the Viking Blood: honey wine mixed with sour cherry.


I love that stuff, warms up all your innards and tingles it up.





------------------------------------------------------------------
KARAOKE!
------------------------------------------------------------------

Due to my stay in Shanghai, I got bitten by the Karaoke bug – HARD. Sadly, because of my abrupt departure, I didn't have the opportunity to indulge myself in one last singing fest. I kept on singing songs to myself in the bus, and GIGGLIN' at the thought of doing Karaoke in Berlin. (I know, the most retarded things give me the gigglz). *guffaw*

One thing was certain, to sum up the courage to do Karaoke, some booze should be involved.




I brought Ben an original copy of the Little Red Book and a little Mao badge all the way from Shanghai. Following this whole Communist theme, the only logical alcoholic choice seemed to be: „Vodka Gorbachev".




Here we are, doing exactly the same thing as what we used to do online for hours on end – play Scrabble / Scrabulous.




Aah, let's put MINIMAL focus on the game and pose with Gorbie.


Oh! Now let's point out our imperfections:



Ben shows off this hairless patch of skin he has on his neck where any sort of stubble has refused to grow.

href="http://s144.photobucket.com/albums/r162/wiwik01/?action=view¤t=imperfectionsredsocks.jpg" target="_blank">

I have no imperfections whatsoever, just my ghastly red socks.



Then I WHIPPED out my precious „Last Emperor" sunglasses.



Damn these things are amazing.


We really had no confidence in ourselves whatsoever to get drunk, chugging glass after glass of Vodka Red Bull. Needless to say, we went completely overboard, but MIRACULOUSLY managed to leave the apartment and go to karaoke.




Ben shows off a monthly subway pass he just found on the train. My vacant eyes show intense interest.




Yay! We arrive to Green Mango in one piece! After passing out for a few minutes, Ben wakes me up and forces me to listen to him sing. I do not recall any of this.







The DJ seems nice, and shares some Asian "victory sign" solidarity with me.


I pass out once again, and what is a good friend like Ben to do but to wake me up and get me on stage to sing a difficult song such as „California Dreamin'"



I feel confident, and then proceed to murder the song mercilessly. Once again, I do not recall ANY of this.


After my awful rendition of the song, which would make Mama Cass regurgitate the ham sandwich from her throat (yes, I KNOW it is an urban legend), Ben informed me that the DJ ridiculed me on stage. Taking advantage of the fact that I didn't understand German, he had made me into the subject of a massive joke.

Ben was angry. I didn't care at all, and started ranting about how much money I made (which really isn't that much, mind you), and how he was just a lowly DJ. Then I became the „bigger person", and went up to stage WHILE another girl was singing, to thank the DJ for a good time, and told him that I would remember this place forever. Followed of course by a hearty handshake.


And what is a gal to do after being humilliated during karaoke?



DANCE!




------------------------------------------------------------------
CULTURAL DAY
------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day we decided to look at the cultural part of the city, while still being affected by the extended fogginess of karaoke night.




We walked by The Brandenburg Gate, and I even got to do the INCREDIBLY touristy thing of posing next to an Eastern German soldier from the Communist Era. Yay me.




The Holocaust memorial; Monument to the Murdered Jews of Europe is a field of 2,700 concrete slabs near the Brandenburg Gate.

And WHAT do we see in the background there? Why, the Berlin Television Tower, which goes to show that almost NOTHING in China, no, not even the precious Oriental Pearl of Shanghai can be remotely original.

Pissed me off.




Mmm! Some currywurst to regain some energy. I dedicate this image to Anna, who I know has a love for Deutsch sausages.



Then we happened upon a nice surprise – pieces of the Berlin Wall...





...which I of course, had to jump in front of.




Standing on the line where the wall used to be.




For some inexplicable reason, the sides of parts of these walls were covered up in blobs of chewed up gum.




Glimpses of Berlin at night.



------------------------------------------------------------------
TRADITIONAL FORTUNE TELLING
------------------------------------------------------------------
At a loss for what to do that night, but not wanting to touch a drop of alcohol, Ben suggested that we go along with a German childhood tradition which would give us a glance of what the New Year would bring us.




Ooh. Fortune-telling kit.




All that is needed is a candle and a bowl of cold water.
1. Select one of the metal pieces, and heat it up on the spoon over the flame.
2. Wait until the metal piece melts.
3. Once it is completely liquid, throw the melted lead into the cold water. It will solidify the metal into a new shape.
4. Decide what this new metal piece resembles, and look up the meaning in the „MAGICAL BOOK".




The fortune teller tells me that my „dragon" means that I will outgrow myself this year. I guess that could mean that I will succeed in something in life, or that I will become a complete FATASS from stuffing my face with currywurst all day long and outgrow my jeans.




---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DALI EXHIBIT – NOT EVERYTHING NEEDS LOGIC
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I used to love Dali when I was a young-un'. Then I stopped liking him because everyone started liking him. Yes, I am that pretencious kind of person who doesn't want to be MAINSTREAM and like what EVERYONE likes. mmmKAY?

Now I have regained respect for him.




We stumble upon a Dali exhibit, and while it was nice to see his drawings, what blew me out of the water were the films. Salvador Dali was one hot mofo who had no creative boundaries. In some aspects controversial, but his masterful talent cannot be denied.




Intro to the „Soft Self-portrait of Salvador Dali".




Trailer to Un Chien Andalou, Surrealist film by Louis Bunuel and Salvador Dali. Supposedly the most famous short film in the world, but I had never watched it. In many cases, greatness defies logic.


After that, we venture off to Karaoke again, this time to a hidden-away place called Kim's Karaoke.



Our rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody earned us a standing ovation, and even though we are no reincarnations of Freddie Mercury, we have the SPIRIT. It was great fun, we stayed till the very end when the whole place had cleared out completely. Then a few hours later, the fun ended and _______________________________. (fill in with strange situation that provokes intense weirdness and insane awkwardness, leading you to think for days afterwards as you replay what you remember in your head over and over again and think in disbelief: „Wait... Did that REALLY happen?")

But of course, that isn't the purpose of my blog. Onto more of Berlin...




---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TOURIST TRAPS CAN BE FUN TOO!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We had a lazy Sunday and finally decided to go to Klo (translation: The Toilet). Ben had warned me time and time again that this was an overpriced tourist trap, but hey, overpriced tourist traps need love too.

The reason why it is called The Toilet is because drinks are served in urine containers, and food is served in bedpans.




YUMMMMMMERZZZ.


Deciding that this would be the perfect photo op for my future myspace or facebook profile picture, I just HAD to order the food there! Cause nothing would get me more BOYTOYS then a sultry picture of me licking a poop recipient sparkling clean, right?




Sadly, the bread with cheese, ham paté, and schmaltz (pig, chicken or goose fat cooked with spices, used to smear on the bread) I ordered did not come in a bedpan, but on a rather boring wooden plate.

At least making a sad face while holding the little recipient of schmaltz made me feel a TAD better.

Plus the bar itself was a RIOT, decorated with all sorts of crazy knick-knacks – feet dangling from the ceilings, old goofy ads playing on the TVs, gorilla masks, etc.. When you walk in, you try to dodge the stream of water that sprays at you on the door way. *peeeeface*


And if the doorman likes you, he will show you his erected appreciation. *HUNKY*




---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
NEW YEAR'S EVE
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ben's brother was gracious enough to let us attend his New Year's party. He lives with 4 other roommates, in a little community of sorts. I miss that feeling when you're actually friends with your roommates and want to do things together and not SLAM yourself in your room every time you get home from work.

*le lonely pathetic sigh*

...Not that it's my case, at ALL!

Anyway, on the way to Pankow where Ben's brother lives (and I hate myself for calling him Ben's brother all the time, but I don't remember his name):




For some reason I love this graffitied menu board.




I admire the bold gothic typography of some of Berlin's subway stations. Thank you, Jose Diaz, for showing me ANOTHER WORLD of BEAUTY.




It was quite crowded by the time we got there.




New Year baby!




One of the first things I saw was the requisite Fussball table.




After the first (disastrous) game of my life, I rightfully earned the FUSSBALL LOSER'S HAT O' SHAME.
*gaa-gaa.*




Educating myself on German "hip" music.




It seems like the cooking blood really runs in the Ansin family, as Ben's brother is QUITE the cook as well. Here he is preparing the dough for the pizza, as he covers his nose and mouth to protect him from the STENCH of fish which was cooking away somewhere (which he apparently hates).




FOOD!
Besides the pizza, they had sausages, empanadas, leek soup, a variety of desert, and even PAELLA!!! Great way to get my mind off of my FIXATION on MADRID! gah.




The food aftermath.


And of course, where there's food, there's drink:



These two gentlemen were determined on turning me into Mrs. Hyde. So much so, that they didn't even bother learning my real name for most of the night, and just called me Mrs. Hyde and fed me with alcohol over and over again.

There was a sweet concoction made out of pears, oranges, wine and champagne cooked in a pot, and the PIECE DE RESISTANCE – the MASTER BLASTER: vodka, redbull and CHAMPAÑA.




I love the German version of Red Bull... it's called Big Pump!




Just because Stefan's band has the genius name of: Thunder Pussy Ghetto Fist, he deserved a sip of my Master Blaster.


WOOHOO! Countdown and fireworks time!!! Off to the park we go.


Cheers, hugs and Happy New Year!!!


Somehow we wasted a LOT of time getting to our next destination. We lost half the group, couldn't decide where to go, and travelled aimlessly with a bag of chips. I then had the genius idea of naming the guy who carried the chips: CHIPMAN and yell „Chipmaaaaaang!" every chance that I could (with a Jamaican accent). I know, I'm genius.




Ah, of course. Ben always has his trusty subway map with him.


We finally arrived to some club.


Outside.


Inside.

Good times.

Anyhoo, I will maintain the same resolution I have every year which is: Read More Books. I guess for it to truly happen, I should remind myself that perezhilton.com is not a book, or even qualifies REMOTELY as reading material that will stimulate the brain in any positive way.


Happy New Year everyone... and have a great 2008!!!!!


edit: Oh! And I almost forgot! A special greeting to my fellow cradle-robber, bruise-sister, Jenn!

I HAVE to give it to the Spaniards. These people know how to enjoy life. We would genuinely try to grab a "quick bite" every day, but somehow it was IMPOSSIBLE. Every lunch break would last like 2 hours, as we WINED and DINED. Amazing. I remember myself on the streets of New York RUSHING into Grand Central scarfing down my POTATO BURRITO from Taco Bell, or my Jr. Cheeseburger from Wendy's. What was I in a hurry for? WHAAAAT? TELL MEEEE!

Once a guy stopped me and told me to: "Calm down and sit and eat." Oh, he is such a guru.

*le sigh* to quality of life.

Anyway, enough JIBER JABBER you dumb bitch!

...unnecessary agreeeessiooooon...




------------------------------------------------------------
First Sunday in town
------------------------------------------------------------

Although I didn't manage to take my camera out too much while I was in Madrid – yes I was BUSY, WORKING HARD for once in my life, believe it or not – Pablo, Miguel and I managed to squeeze a lovely lunch on a Sunday to escape life at the agency, and I brought my digital BABAE along.


We walked around Plaza Mayor. It was hustlin' and bustlin' with people enjoying the chilly-sunny day.

There was quite a handful of fun street performers:


FRENZY-WHILRWIND-PASSION-MUSIC.


I think this might have been a man, but I could be completely making stuff up.


An aluminium Charlie Chaplin.


*El Fluorescent GAAAH.*


Oh my god! Tobey, IZ DAT JU???!



Aaw. The children gossiping in the presence of a life-changing opportunity.
This could WELL be the beginning of a great career!
Work at McDonald's!

Well it's no Taco Bell, but I CAN imagine filling my belly with Chicken McNuggets in between bathroom breaks.

Nyum nyum.

Talking about food, we ventured off to La Latina to stuff our joyful, stress-free faces.


Tapas.

Food in Madrid is perfection. What can you expect from a country where "ham" is not watered down mixed CRAP, but delectable masterpieces of marbled fat intertwining with rich meat?


Stinky tofu whoooooo?

We shared the table with an enthusiastic young couple who were about to go to an Atlético Madrid game.


Showing some team pride. (They lost the game.)


Me being completely RUDE, and invading a stranger's privacy and personal space.

And THAT wasn't enough food, so we also had some Pulpo a la Gallega.


It is an absolute culinary masterpiece. The perfect slices of tender octopus in olive oil and garlic, lying gently on a bed of soft, melt-in-your-mouth potatoes. Mmmm... excuse me as I space out and forget about the cold, soulless and forgettable bowl of muesli I just consumed.

Talking about pleasures and quality of life, I was so spoilt during this month. Other than receiving 350 euros per week to spend on food and drink (emphasize on DA DRINK) and getting our laundry done for us,


I had gummy candy shaped in the DELIGHTFUL shape of a sunny side up egg on my pillow.


For moooooooooooooiiiiiiiiii? Yes, your eyes KID YOU NOT... it indeed says Mrs. Lui on that little black card and it was a complimentary bottle of red wine! I didn't drink it because I thought that they couldn't POSSIBLY be that nice, and there was some sort of TRICKERY in it somewhere.


From time to time, I would have the clothes that I had THROWN around the hotel all origami-ed up! I know that it isn't quite as fancy or RISQUÉ as Beau's cruise towels, but it is nice all the same.

KRRRAZY!! I am NOT WORTHY!!!




------------------------------------------------------------
Madrid through the lens of a toy camera
------------------------------------------------------------
And I mean it. I am not worthy.
Each week, I would take a bit of the allowance that was given to us, save it up (thus not returning the ENTIRETY of the money I didn't use back to the company) and in the end of the month, I got myself a HOLGA!

I KNOW that I just confessed a crime, but I got a HOLGA! :!


I got myself one of these limited edition beauties. Basically because I'm a child and never want to grow up.


THE HOTEL OSCAR
We had to change hotels quite a bit during this month, mostly because it was impossible to book a hotel for such an extended period of time. My favourite room by far was at the Hotel Oscar – the black and white hip and modern room, my beloved 505.




The Oscar.




The Powerbook lays beside me when I sleep.




Me and the 505.




The view outside my window when I wake up. *yaaaawnfest*




Pablo in the lobby.




The view I would gaze at every morning as I ate my breakfast.




My breakfast of champions – tomato on bread, doused in olive oil and a sprinkle of salt & a potato/egg tortilla.




The lobby had the word SEX in HUGE LETTERS on the wall, and the word LOVE in HUGE LETTERS on the other side. How hedonisticly ooh-lah-lah!





CITY STREETS
I love the architecture in Madrid. I shouldn't be so surprised by it, since in Costa Rica they have the same sort of buildings (since it was a Spanish colony), only that in Costa Rica they are painting in WILD COLORS, ranging from YELLOW SORBET, to HOT PINK, to MUCCUS GREEN.

Come to think of it, that kind of sounds cool too, just not as authentic. Oh well.





The little plaza right in front of the hotel.




A romantic smooch in the plaza, as a creepy Asian girl lurks and takes a hidden pic with her subtle camera.



The Chueca area getting ready for the holidays, placing cheerful plastic pieces over the plaza that would light up at night:












The other streets also geared up for Christmas:








Fountain on Gran Vía.




On the way to work and its surroundings:














A bull man STUD who frequently guard the entrances of souvenir stores. *svoonnnnza beastiality face*




A clock tower on the way to the Museums.



And right across, the fountain with a sculpture of Neptune and a snazzy scooter.




A brisk walk in the perfect weather on the Paseo del Prado, ready for a few hours of culture.




Statue of Velazquez, in front of the Prado museum.






Hunky Spanish cop.




Hunky Spanish cop car.






Church at dusk on the Calle Arenal.




I was lucky to find a GEM while walking on the Calle Arenal: the San Gines Chocolateria where I stuffed my EAGER PIEHOLE with churros and a warm cup of creamy chocolate.




Street signs are elegance.




Unmistakeable neon signs that show when pharmacies are open. *available for HEMORRROIIID CREEEEAMZZZZ!*






Neon sex shop sign. STOP TEMPTING ME! *hisssss*




For some reason, I am obsessed with this sign, I could SPOON it every single day. Located in Puerta del Sol.






Atocha train station.




Across the street from Atocha.




Colours of the flag.





THE AGENCY




Fine art on the agency ceilings.




The restaurant sign that would guide me every time I was confused as to which street the agency was on.




NIGHTS




Graffiti.




A DELIGHTFUL piano bar called Tony II...




...with the most AMAZING little dish ever. A cocido is a stew of chick peas, slow cooked with pork, the kind that would just turn into velvetty butter once it enters in contact with your taste buds.


And at 5 a.m., nothing tastes better. As I put the last bit of pork fat into my mouth, I grunted: "It's SO BAD, but SOOOOOO GOOOOOOOOOD."
(I'm such a poet sometimes.)


So that would be my first trial run with the Holga. I am sure I will be experimenting more with it sooner or later. The reason why some pictures are brighter than others is because some (the duller ones) were taken with the normal 120 film, and the brighter, funkier ones were taken with slide film, and then went through cross processing during film development time.


I left my last roll at the photo lab today. I am VERY curious about this one, because it was taken one night when we were all APESHIT wasted and had no idea WHAT we were doing anymore. Could be interesting. Or nothing could come out. SUSPENSE!



Anyway,
˜*Tschüss!!!*˜ and ˜*Happy WHORElidays*!!!˜ (courtesy of Beau, of course)

Stephanie INTERRUPTED me today as I was in a packing frenzy to SQUEEZE all my belongings into two suitcases and WHISK off to Germany and start off on a new adventure as an art director at Jung von Matt in Hamburg. Yes, 2 QUARTER AWAYS AND A HALF in Shanghai later, I am ready to set sail yet again. But more about that in future posts (a yeaaaar laaaaaateeer...).

What was possibly THAT important, you may ask?

Well, this...
The Blog Readability Test
What level of education is required to understand your blog?
http://www.criticsrant.com/bb/reading_level.aspx

Get a Cash Advance

So note to all my blogger pals, rate your public RANTS and let me know if I'm really the dumbest of us all.



TOODLES!

So my stint in Madrid is finally over, and I RELUCTANTLY took a plane back to Shanghai (after missing it purposely once… VUPZIE! :!).

It was like Big Brother, (or Real World for you MTV generation young 'uns) where 8 strangers from all around the world came to work together on a pitch, for at least 10 hours a day, 7 days a week, in a BEAUTIFUL agency located in a gorgeous building in the middle of Madrid.

We all started out as a huge big happy family. During the first dinner we had of deliciously authentic paella, we were all wide-eyed and giddy about the whole project. After a few days, alliances had formed. After a few more, they had grown apart and people were blocking each other on msn. New alliances were formed, some broke again. KRRRRAZY! I'd PAY to watch it on TV. OMG OMG OMG, vote for me! 1800-WINKSA!

If there were hidden cameras there to document all the drama, GAAAAAH. But there WAS a digital camera documenting all the fun.




-------------------------------------------------------------------------
FIRST NIGHT OUT!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
It took us quite a while for ALL of us to get together and PARTAE in Madrid. So after a PARTICULARLY EXPENSIVE DINNER (I still remember it was 98 euros EACH, and it will forever HAUNT ME IN MY DREAMS), we decided to get WASTED, probably to forget about that MONSTROUS BILL.

During this month, some of us acquired spunky new nicknames which will be in bold italics:




Pablo, channeling his inner Mussolini by wearing Kike's giant military coat. This certainly meant that we were READY for the night.




This isn't particularly a good picture, I look like I have a FREAKING COMBOVER, but it's the only picture of Flavio a.k.a. "horny bull" that existed. EVER! :!

The "horny bull" nickname started because we would all work in a large and quiet wooden room, and the only noise that could be heard was the SPONTANEOUS HEAVING and HEAVY BREATHING of this kind sir. I sat right in front of him, and sometimes had to bury my face in my laptop to not burst out LAUGHING in his FACE! Needless to say, he never knew about this nickname.




Pablo and Kike a.k.a. "Che Guevara" (sporting his signature Rayban Wayfarer glasses) being dreamy.

"Che Guevara" mainly because Kike constantly stood out like a sore thumb from the crowd as he prodded along the streets with his HUGE MILITARY COAT from the 40's, and MURDERED everyone who would dare stand in his way.




The first bar we were at that I completely forgot about in a few hours. "WHAT? WHAT FIRST BAR? WHERE?!"




Clockwise from left to right: The incredible Fefa who was the reason I was even IN Madrid in the first place, Miguel who was my ÜBER OPTIMISTIC partner (and I HATE OPTIMISM, DAMMIT!), "crazy Chinese woman" (no explanation needed, I S'POSE), and Pablo.

Off we went to some dance place called Sala Sol which played the most eccentric mixture of music ever! At one moment we would be doing the TWIST, and at the other we would be singing "BREAK ON THROUGH TO THE OTHER SIDE!" at the top of our TEQUILA SOAKED lungs.




Then Pablo stole an unsuspecting person's cap.




The Brazilian team, Marta and Murilo (a.k.a. "Silent Bob" because he rarely spoke, but when he DID utter something, it would be something dead on and amazing), were the only ones in the end who remained intact with zero arguments between them. I tell you, Brazilians are SO DAMN OPTIMISTIC and HAPPY, I want to RIP their HEADS APART!

BOO... GO BACK TO YOUR COUNTRY!




Oh MARTA, don't you DARE spread POSITIVE VIBES to me!




I pose with the stolen cap, and look like a complete IDIOT.


Then everyone proceeded to pose with Kike's glasses.












I refrained from doing it because, I didn't want to be a SIX-EYES.



So I took a sassy pic. I think I was trying to be GANGSTA, but I can't be G-Unit without Beau.


After god who knows how many drinks later and strange encounters with Nigerian prostitutes, we went to another bar, and found a red wall. IMPROMPTU PHOTO-SHOOT!



Me trying to be all kawaii to DESPERATELY get out of a Mexican prison.




"Smiling with your eyes" á la America's Next Top Model.




After all that NONSENSE, it was already 6:30 a.m.


And of course, we were hungry. For some reason, it is VERY hard to get food at this time, so we settled for:



A Jamón Serrano and Gorgonzola cheese pizza.

It was the first time that something tastes disgusting to me when drunk. Maybe it didn't help that I decided to have CLARA (beer mixed with soda) for breakfast.






-------------------------------------------------------------------------
PHOTOSHOOT IN MADRID
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
About a week after that, the TOP SHOTS from the agency in London came to review our work. Of course, a requisite fancy DIN-DIN was necessary. It was like a 15 course meal, but each course was intsy-wintsy. In fact the whole dinner could have fit on one plate.

Surprisingly, I only took one picture:



Wah wah waaah… The "main course" – deer cooked in some fancy-wancy wine sauce.

After a FIVE HOUR meal, we were sick of being all POLITE and SMILEY to these HOTSHOTS, and decided to get wasted. The über-fancy wine was already getting to our heads.

It was Kike's birthday, and Pablo had the GENIUS idea to go see strippers. I tagged along because EVERYONE knows what a STRIPPER EXPERT I am. Ok, I tagged along because I can't say "no" to anything.




Me, Murilo and Pablo in a cab, looking for HONEYS.




Yellow street lights of Madrid.




Zapatista Army of National Liberation.

But it was Tuesday night, so everything was closed.



The search for strippers failed miserably. I was distraught… DISTRAUGHT, I SAY!

After a bit of bar-hopping here and there, we decided to turn Madrid into the perfect backdrop for a photoshoooooot.




An up and coming indy-rock-garage band named ________________________.




ZEXYFACEZ!




And now the hip rock gods pose in front of letters.




The Rock Band is so cool, we loiter.




And we even loiter with newly acquired random drunken fans.

For some reason these two guys thought we were shooting a movie, and that we were famous modelles. 'Cause it makes all the sense in the world to shoot a MOVIE with a tiny camera.

..uot; border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket">



Our groupies taking pictures of us and WORSHIPPING us. Le yoooohooooo…*blows kissezzz*




And then we took pictures in front of this "Inflamable Creativity" sign.

Oh, the CLASSIC mistake of: are you taking a picture or are you making a video?



*guffaw* And me playing the Asian-karate card AGAIN. I sicken myself.




ALL ABOARD!
(not surprisingly, the motorcycle fell to its side soon after the picture was taken, and we scurried away like the weasel delinquents that we are)…




…to continue with our motorcycle fetish.
I hate how I RUINED the photo by not being able to control my princess gigglz.


Then we started the "Trash Phase" of the night:



Pablo as the new mythical creature of the 21st Century – half man, half rubbish bin.




Murilo and Kike are the Kings of Trash. *PROPAGAAANDA POSTER FOR PIPPAAAAA!*




The search for the next set continues.




But we failed, and ended up taking pictures of our shoes.

Pablo was hungry, and there were no restaurants open in sight. What there WERE though, were seedy Chinese vendors standing on the streets behind mysterious cardboard boxes, selling noodles in aluminum containers. Judging from the hush-hush-no-eye-contact procedure of the acquisition, we MIGHT just have been buying CRACK COCAINE.




A perfect ending to a fun fun night.


ANYHOO, I think if it was really Big Brother, I would win the whole thing. I'm half expecting a BOUQUET of flowers flown in from a helicopter all of a sudden to congratulate me for winning a million euros. Or a huge LEG of JAMON that I would just CHOMP on happily till I die of clogged arteries of PIG FAT.

All in all, I will really miss everyone. It was really intimidating for me at first, because they were all creative directors, and I felt like a fish out of water. My partner was a multiple Cannes Lion winner, and that didn't stop me from YELLING at him from time to time. Yes, I realize now that I truly have anger management issues… thanks Ben for POINTING it out for me time and time AGAIN. In fact, I was the only one flown in here on Economy Class, and SOMEONE WILL PAY FOR THAT… DAMMIT!



PS: I would like to give a special shout-out to Jenne. I have to admit that during our school year in Miami, I DID think that Jenne's constant praises and mentions of Madrid were overly exaggerated, and even slightly annoying. Now I not only understand it, but I also proudly join El Club.

Olé!

---------------------------------------------------------------------
Best sushi I've had in my entire LIFE!!!
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Now I thought the sushi I had in Tokyo near the fish market was amazing, but it is completely different when you have someone who KNOWS taking you. Jesse took me to Pontocho, a quaint narrow street filled with pricier restaurants, and if you were LUCKY, you can even spot a geisha or two.


I had INCREDIBLY bad luck during my whole trip regarding Geisha sightings. This picture might as well have been of a very dainty Big Foot. GAAAH! PAPARAZZI!




Clockwise from upper left corner: 1. An appetizer of tiny intsy-wintsy fish, 2. The mighty TORO, exquisite first-grade belly section of the tuna (expensive little bastards, but worth every bit of the 5 dollars each – melt-in-your-mouth goodness), 3. MORE TORO, but FLAMED on top, creating a delicate slight crust, 4. The best unagi, or eel, I've had in my entire life, 5. The sushi bar.

This experience inspired me to create this piece of ART when I got back to Shanghai.


I know, I know… *pat on back* Breathtaking.

The sushi was SO pricey that we couldn't really afford to have a filling meal. Off we went to have some AUTHENTIC JAPANESE BURGERS at MOS BURGER!!!


They were surprisingly good… and of course not QUITE as greasy as their American counterparts.




---------------------------------------------------------------------
MONKEY MOUNTAIN (aka Safety Mountain)
---------------------------------------------------------------------

I've had a fear of monkeys for quite some time now. When I was about 6 years old, a monkey chased me when I was in Bali on vacation. It was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. I ran like there was no tomorrow, and leapt into the arms of my uncle, heart beating A-FRENZY.

Which is why I was extremely skeptical when Jesse suggested that we go to Monkey Mountain. I asked too many questions: What kind of monkeys are they? Do they have a HUMAN FACE?... and all too soon, I knew that they were of a very similar species than the ones I had confronted as a child.

*JITTERZ* Yet it was my chance to face my fear.

The night before, we went to the little restaurant that served Jamaican inspired food. We had a chat with the bartender which KIND OF went like this:

Jesse: So we're going to Monkey Mountain tomorrow.
bartender: Ooh. Monkey Mountain daaangerous. (Then he proceeded to tell us the TERRIFYING story of him being attacked/chased by a monkey because he was holding some sort of snack.)
me: le gaaah?
Jesse: She's scared of monkeys. She was chased when she was a kid.
bartender: OOOOOOH… Safety Mountain. Monkey Mountain is Safety Mountain!

Yeah, I felt much better. Thaaaaanks.

The next day, off we went, accompanied by Jesse's friend Ryan who had ALSO had less than pleasant experiences with monkeys. At the train station, we encountered a FUN vending machine, one that served hot foods! Being the one who is always capable of being hungry, I had some fried chicken.


Yum yum! It kind of had a KFC feel to it… and it was PIPING HOT!

When we got there, we were bombarded by cutezy-wootzy Monkey signs.


I couldn't stop thinking to myself – BLASPHEMY! These monkeys don't look like THAT! LIARS!


We stocked up on some alcohol. I had some canned chuhai. I love that stuff.


Before going up the mountain, we sat near the lake for a while and chilled. It was beautiful. OMG… a BABAE with his pantz off!!! SNAAAAAPSHOT for my PERSONAL COLLEKSHUN!!!

All too soon, it was time to go up the mountain. We received a set of RULES for when we met the monkeys. I don't recall the others, but the one that stands out most in my mind is: DO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH THE MONKEYS. Which explains why I was chased that fatal day when I was 6. I was TAUNTING that particular monkey with my eyes. As in: "I'm a human, you're a monkey, so I'm better than you. Na-nah-nah-nah-naaaah."

A mere 15 minute walk up a slope made me realize in what TERRIBLE physical condition I was in.


*wheeeeeeeeze* Don't leeeeeeave meeee. *wheeeeeeeeze* I'll pretend to take a picture of a garbage can to catch my breathhhh *wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze*.


Finally, at the top… a great view of the city of Kyoto.


And there they were.


Monkey family portrait!!! I am quite a fan of Jesse's SASSY stance. I am NOT a fan, however, of the color difference between my FACE and my chest.


SHRIEEEEEK!


Monkeys, MONKEYS, MONKEEEEYS!

We bought several 100 yens worth of sliced bananas and peanuts, and got to feeding. I didn't believe Ryan when he told me that the monkeys' hands were actually soft. But strangely enough, they WERE! Suple monkey skin…


Me CONFRONTING my fears. OMG… BREAAAKTHROOOUGH!


And Ryan proceeded to tempt a monkey with beer.

We stayed there feeding the monkeys till it closed.


A peaceful monkey bid us adieu.


And we SLID down a little hill! Jesse and Ryan had LIED to me and told me the slide went all the way down the mountain which got me all RILED up. Ugh, I can be like FIVE sometimes.


And we sat by the lake some more with more alcohol. Ooh look, another brand of chiuhai.


A heartwarming view of a child (now with pants on) and his grandfather.

Then we had some SNACKS!


Ryan had a mochi little sack thing with a dainty little bow.


I had a steamed bun filled with PIZZA FILLING!


And Jesse had BATTERIES from a VENDING MACHINE!
Ok, he didn't, but I wanted to force this cool picture of this ultra-vintage looking battery vending machine in here SOMEWHERE.


On the train ride back, Jesse took a fun pic with a group of high-school kids. Little did we know, that 2 hours later, we would still be on the train, completely LOST and riding it in CIRCLES, due to wrong directions one of these kids had given us. Grr.

We FINALLY made it back in Shijo (or was it Sanjo? I always confuse the two) and saw some firedancing near the bridge.


Ooh. Aah.

We went to eat at an izakaya, and I FINALLY got to cross off one of the "strange foods" off the top of my list: horse sashimi! In less fancy words, raw horse.


It was surprisingly, VERY VERY GOOD. The texture was slightly chewy, but tender, and with just a BIT of radish and ginger, it was pure perfection.

We went to karaoke after that. It's just something you have to do in Japan.




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Reunion with a CHILDHOOD LOVE
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Facebook made me get in touch with many former classmates from primary school, people I hadn't seen in more than 15 years. One of them was Chito, who I found out was in Japan right now, so we decided to meet up.

I have vivid memories of him chasing me around the kiddy dinner table at a friend's house, because he said he would marry me. I wasn't ready for ANY kind of commitment at the time, which made me RUN in FEAR.


From left to right: Me, my best friend Larissa, Chito's best friend Shohei, and Chito.


Christmas party! Chito is REPRIMANDING me for SOMETHING.

I was more than half an hour late, since I had underestimated the train ride, and had an awkward: "Is that you? But you look like every other person here, so I can't be too sure." moment.

We had some okonimiyaki (another traditional food from Osaka), which consisted of dough patties with cabbage, eggs and whatever extra stuff you may want to add. We had noodles mixed in there, as well as pork, mayo, and a VERY filling sweet sauce.




Quite delish. But I prefer the takoyaki (octopus balls from the last post).


Hunky okonomiyaki pig.


Random blowfish in Osaka.

We then ventured of to Loft, store that sells a lot of cool stuff. I got a few Japanese beauty tips:



From this trip, I also learnt that not only do some Japanese guys shave their eyebrows into a characteristically uber-thin defined shape (not tweeze them) but ALL Japanese shave their FOREHEADS! I guess peach fuzz is a no-no in this town!


Sexy costumes and cutezy wigs.


WOOHOO! The cod roe costume!


Wouldn't we make beautiful plush sea creature babies together?


Soothing light-powered toys.

Off to Starbucks (I KNOW, of all places) we go, and take a parting picture.


It was a really nice time. Lots of memories and talks for a reunion that would be easier said than done.



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LAST SUPPER
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It was my last night in Japan, and I HAD to cross one more thing off my food list. Jesse had told me that he had eaten raw chicken, and I just refused to believe him, considering all the warnings that have been put in our heads our whole life about salmonella.

I HAD TO HAVE IT! So I did. I went to a little restaurant near Jesse's apartment.


Cozy décor.


Friendly people in a warm setting.


The food was incredible. I had some delicious DELICIOUS tofu with ginger, green onions and soy sauce – so clean and pure. The lovely ladies from the picture above even shared some warm egg soup with me when they thought that my first photo was too bare.


I also ordered some fried eggplant.
And now… the piece de resistance. Raw chicken with soy sauce and wasabi. What can I say, that's what it tasted like. It was an EXPERIENCE, but I wouldn't necessarily call it tasty. It wasn't BAD either. I guess it's what it would taste like if you ate some chicken that had been left marinating, ready to cook the next day.


Then the owner and I had some TWINZIE shots taken outside the eatery. Japanese people are just so darn friendly. I loved this restaurant, they made me feel right at home.




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THE LAST LOST IN TRANSLATION REFERENCE
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I have always thought that the transparent umbrella that Scarlett's character carries around is very cool.


Little did I know that these are actually the default umbrellas in Japan. They cost about 500 yen (roughly 5 dollars) and are sold in all convenient stores. I HAD to have one.

Bought the first one, and it was stolen at a party. There is a habit of stealing umbrellas here since they are so disposable and cheap.

I bought one on my last day to take back and flaunt in Shanghai. I was a happy camper. UNTIL I reached Shanghai in the middle of a typhoon. The airhostess warned us of the rain, and told us to "get our umbrellas ready". Ecstatic to premiere my beautiful new umbrella, I opened it as I stepped out of the airplane.

It lasted for roughly 3 seconds. The strong winds had no mercy on the weak/disposable frame and crumpled it into a BALL of plastic and metal. I tossed it into the trash in DISMAY.

GAAAAARGHHHHHH.


I loved Japan – the country where all stereotypes ring true. You name them: sexy schoolgirls, yakuza, drunken businessmen, geishas, trendsetters, bronzed big-haired beauties, lolitas, the kawaii of the kawaii, etc.? You got them all.

After a much needed day of down-time that followed the hectically crazy trip to Tokyo, I was ready to resume my sight-seeing duties (which meant that Jesse was FORCEFULLY ready to resume his duties as tour guide).

Said tour-guide completed the very Japanese morning experience with an INCREDIBLY Japanese breakfast:


Miso soup, pickled veggies, fresh "HANDSOME MAN" brand tofu (real name), and the notorious nato – fermented, slimey, gooey, and interesting tasting soy beans. I have yet to form a true verdict on whether or not I TRULY enjoyed the nato, but OH VEL, SLIMEY things in my mouth always do good in MY BOOK.

I don't know what that means. :! Or doooooooooooooooo I?

YUMMERZ!


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NARA
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Train-ride to Nara.

Ok, I am going to sound incredibly STUPID and CULTURELESS for this, but I really don't know what else to say about Nara but: OMG OMG OMG, DEER EVERYVEEER!!! OMG OMG OMG ZO MUCH FUNNZO!!!!! CUTEZY BABAEZ!

I am sure Nara has a lot of culture and history, and I even tried to read about it on wikipedia, but my attention span of an ORANGUTAN does not permit me to absorb any new information at this point.


There were warnings of how NOT to anger deer all over the place. Deer are known to emit CRIMSON MORTAL ELECTRICAL RAYS from their craniums, thus they shall take over the world and kill us all.


OMG OMG! Deer INVASHUUUN!!!


Jesse and Deer having a stare-off.


The coolest school portrait ever. I never got to get dressed in Sailor Moon uniforms, or posed in front of the lush green mountains, or had DEER CAVORTING all over the place! *scoff!*


DEER ATTAX!!!


Deer listening intently at the tour of their hometown, making sure the guide has all his info correct.


The creepiest deer I have ever seen, with a wandering WHITE-EYE, standing to one of the most imposing statues I've seen. *JITTERBUGZ*


And of course, there was deer souvenir: ranging from beanies, to inflatable little things, snacks for humans dressed as deer (?) and *GULP*, lens cleaners made out of deer hide. And how much for that deer next to Anapanman? NEVER MIND, I'LL TAKE'IM and LUV HIM 4 EVAH AND EVAH!

And then it was time for the cultural moment of the day.


Todai-ji, a world heritage site.


Dignified Buddhist statues.


Then we strolled off to a nearby shrine – peaceful surroundings, a calligrapher practicing his art, and a red dragon head.


Nara is absolutely the perfect place for a kiddy field trip, just enough culture to make it "educational", and just enough animals roaming around to make it TONS of fun.




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OSAKA, here we come
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After the Tokyo "half disappointment" (and yes, I only have myself to blame for that), I was REALLY looking forward to visiting the city of Osaka. What an intense city.


Neon. Amazing. Alive. Stunning.


Happy fat dude. :)


The Hello Kitty store, and for the first time in the history of this blog I will utilize the word "WHORE" rightfully and correctly – It's Hello Kitty dressed as a high-class whore, classy heels clicking down the streets as she sashays and eyes potential clients such as Garfield, Sylvester, and Goofy.


We had some Takoyaki (octopus dumplings) which is one of the most representative regional cuisine of Osaka. SOOOO good. Gooey, piping hot batter spheres, with a meaty octopus piece in the middle, all topped in delicate fish flakes.

Mm. Mm. Mm. *DROOOOLZ*

Then after stuffing our faces some more at an izakaya, off to get our DRINK ON. We set our sights on a calm and very sophisticated lounge, and claimed our territory at the bar.


Bartenders here have a very distinctive way of shaking the cocktail, accompanied by a very VIGOROUS arm shake, almost like the mating call of a HUNKY ROOSTER.

We realized soon after our first drink, that we had (not surprisingly) missed the train back to Kyoto. *SHRUGZ* I guess we'd have to stay here in Osaka for an all-nighter. Sad, sad, news right?

That's when the pandemonium started.


I had been feeling adventurous all along this trip, and yes, it was here that I would break my boundaries of rum and vodka.
I sampled the sweet hazelnut Frangelico, a tequila Umeshu (plum liquor) that the bartender had concocted by himself, the INSANE 96% alcohol Spirytus Rektyfikowany from Poland which just burnt my insides into CINDERS, a margarita that was made with some Japanese twist that I was too drunk to notice by now, and a cocktail made out of Godiva liqueur. BLEW MY MIND. It was like a chocolate milkshake made out of a drunk cow.


Jesse and I victorious after being 100 bucks poorer. WOOHOO!

Our next stop was a little bar called Cozy, where Jesse's good friend Ai worked. (I will avoid all ILLUSTRATOR-related jokes here, and if you didn't think of .ai files at all, then props to you. You're not a NERD like me.) She was so much fun, and even had a costume that I very willingly borrowed.


Me being very proud of myself, and dressed as a cod roe which is synonymous of cod egg.

In other words, this:


I'm DELISH, I know.


Jumping.


And because I'm COMPLETELY self-absorbed, here goes this.

As we hung out at the Cozy bar, I couldn't help but be obsessed with this toothpick toy:


And then we MUGGED for the camera!


I KNOW that the first pic should be rotated clockwise, but I just didn't know how to arrange the collage! So why don't YOU turn YOUR pretty little head 45 degrees clockwise… mmmkay?

Thank you.

It was a great all-nighter in Osaka, so much fun, and we ended up having Japanese CURRY for breakfast at a run-down place.


What better way to replenish our fluids on the train-ride back to Kyoto than a Pocari Sweat?

And to just END this post with an OVERDOSE of Tarako Cod Roe:

Tarakoooooo… tarakoooooooo!


to be continued…
Final part of my Japan saga up soon.