tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64823521788051416102024-03-14T10:18:38.450+01:00s t r a w b e r r y s w i r lstrawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.comBlogger212125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-11837638894492149592012-01-22T22:51:00.002+01:002012-01-22T23:01:11.913+01:00life of a princess<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">i have been a princess, for almost all of my life. i have to admit there may have been a few moments when i almost forgot about it, but in the end it always came back to me somehow...</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">a princess that has lost her prince...i still remember the day when he left like it was yesterday, but it's not...</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">he left, quietly, no fight, no slamming doors, no yelling, no screaming, nothing. just tears, lots and lots of tears, one or two or three bathtubs full of tears... a little less, maybe, just maybe... tears, darkness, loneliness, pain, numbing pain... no more words, no more nothing... i had lost my kingdom, my future, my sunshine... i had thought nobody could ever take away from you... i was wrong, i still am... so far i did not win my kingdom back and i have no idea how to... </span></div>strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-67944889093102679332012-01-22T22:42:00.002+01:002012-01-22T22:49:18.263+01:00just the two of us...<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">wer bin ich, was bin ich, was mache ich, was will ich?</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">du bist hier und da und doch nicht bei mir</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">ich will dich bei mir haben</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">ich will dich nicht</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">ich sehe dich, ich fühle dich, ich umarme dich</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">und doch ist alles um mich leer, bedeutungslos</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">ich weine mich in den schlaf</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">höre dich, deine tiefe, weiche stimme</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">wie sie zu mir spricht</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">versucht mich sanft in den schlaf zu wiegen</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">ich will dich nicht</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">will ich dich?!</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">ich sehe dich</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">deine großen, dunklen augen</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">funkelnd in der nacht</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">lachend wenn sie mich sehen</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">strahlend</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">liebevoll</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">deine hände, weich, warm</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">immer für mich da</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">ich will dich nicht</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">warum will ich dich nicht?</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">you make me smile</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div>strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-36541664820138839152012-01-04T01:54:00.003+01:002012-01-04T02:02:07.952+01:00auf meinem weg*<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">wir fliegen auf wolken durch die dunkle nacht</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">ich habe keine angst</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">du umarmst mich mit deinen worten</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">ich kann nicht fallen</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">deine blicke halten mich fest</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">deine liebe erfüllt das universum</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">unser universum</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">ich kann wieder lieben, denn</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">dein herz hat zu mir gesprochen</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div>strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-40937630778608474072012-01-02T16:39:00.002+01:002012-01-02T16:42:54.791+01:00you and i<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">wenn ich in deine augen sehe,</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">sehe ich</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">mich</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">uns</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">unser leben</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">unsere wünsche</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">unsere träume</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">unsere zukunft...</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">dann wache ich auf</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">und suche deine augen*</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> </span></div>strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-65891674467255019922011-02-22T01:39:00.001+01:002011-02-22T01:40:43.708+01:00my life and yours<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i wish i would change your life. i wish i would be the one that makes a difference.</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i am not.</span></div>strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-69275776267507533272011-02-12T19:26:00.002+01:002011-02-12T19:38:27.557+01:00no one but me<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">sometimes a man gets carried away, sometimes a man must awake to find that really he has no one....when does that happen? am i waiting for that? lover you should have come over! over and over again and again or not?! what am i doing? i haven t had such a strong feeling in a very long time, did i ever...i know it s right, i just know, i see you, i feel you, i kiss you, i let you go. every time i let you go, it doesn t hurt at all, i know you ll always come back to me. how can i know that, why am i so freaking certain, how can i be. i am. you are my man, you are my man! no matter what happens or how many other men or women there are, everything always takes me back to you. i see, i feel you, i kiss you, i let you go. it doesn t hurt at all, i know you ll come back. i know i will see you, feel you, kiss you and let you go again. and no other men can keep up with that. i keep on lying to myself, trying to convince me that i like any one of them, but i don t, i loose interest within the first 5 minuets, and then i find myself writing you, seeing you, feeling you, kissing you and letting you go.... </span></div>strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-23655853495960302802011-02-06T23:08:00.002+01:002011-02-06T23:33:48.603+01:00you me new york<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">after a while i moved back to the city, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">finally. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">it took me quite some time to figure out that first of all </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">the country side wasnt for me </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">and second </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">what i wanted to do with my life. so here i am feeling happier than ever plus an incredible new apartment, plus an awesome new job, plus being back together with all my favorite people and closest friends - minus one "prince" that i cant seem to let go off. </span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">i know this may come off the wrong way but i called my psychic the other day, yeah, yeah it's something only city girls would do, but hey i am a city girl and talking to your psychic is not about having someone looking into a crystal ball telling you what your future is going to look like, it's about someone helping you to find back on your track, giving you some insight on stuff you do actually already know you are just not ready to admit yet.</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">life has been pretty good to me ever since i am back, i met tons of new people, friends, acquaintances, men...gallery openings, restaurants, showrooms, parties - everything and anything - my head and body are so full with new impressions, ideas and thoughts that i find it hard to fall asleep at night. i want to take everything in and i dont want to miss anything.</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">and of course while doing all of this i run into him again and again and again. mr handsome looking more handsome than every plus one girlfriend. i cant get him out of my life and i kind of dont want to. i should be offended by the thought that we are halfway cheating on his girlfriend, but i am not, i am sorry, i am just really not.</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">worst of all my psychic points him out as this one guy in my life at the moment, i mean seriously, as if i havent met enough of them in the last couple of month, but apparently he is the one who is still there. and yes he is, literally. we email, a lot, we talk on the phone, sometimes, we see each other, rarely, but i just want to enjoy every single minute of it. i adore him and he adores me if there wasnt this one little flaw, this one little ohh so big challenge that i am not sure we will ever over come. we could end up together, that is what i feel, no matter which guy broke a tiny bit of my heart, mr handsome is the only one i think about, the only one i feel over and over again that there is something, something that wont stop. he is there for me, i trust him even though i know i shouldnt, i can always count on him no matter what will happen, i know he would safe me in an instant.</span></div>strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-36423978916658977902010-08-05T15:50:00.001+02:002010-08-05T15:51:33.223+02:00business & pleasure<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Never f*** the company – true. We all know the unpleasant and more than embarrassing occurrences during company Christmas parties or outside normal office hours. The shy lady from accounting teams up with the hot guy from HR, the CEO makes out with his secretary that he’s been working with for the last 20 years; and all we can do is sit by and watch or look the other way. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But in a world where our office turns into our living room and our friends and family only get to see us for five minutes at night before we go to sleep or early in the morning before we rush out to catch the metro, is it really that surprising that we fall head over heels for some emotional closeness with our co-workers? And what about the fact that for women it still is that much harder to build a successful career, so where’s the harm in finding other ways to push a career? Should we really not f*** the company or is it just a matter of how discreet and grown up we can handle this rather delicate situation?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">One of my very best friends Mia, the one who is always so lucky with men, has build her entire career around this saying. Every Christmas party, birthday celebration or company dinner Mia attended she paid very close attention to not get drunk, to not send any confusing signals to her male colleagues, leave at a decent time, to be on time the next morning and to not get involved with anyone at any time. Stories about co-workers that have been caught making out in the bathroom or out in the parking lodge have always been her biggest fear. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And let’s be honest, 90% of these work-affairs are doomed to cause trouble. One party can feel mistreated by the other, one cannot keep a secret, different rules apply according to different situations but the definitions are hardly ever congruent between the parties involved. Hence, misunderstandings and trouble - big time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After a couple of years in the business Mia met Mr. handsome at a private party. He was tall, funny and incredibly handsome. The two of them spend a wonderful evening together laughing, flirting and kissing in the end, of course; they even started dating for a little while. No wonder it came as quite a shock when Mr. handsome showed up in Mia’s office one day, but not to bring her flowers and chocolate. As it turned out he was the new head of Mia’s department.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">What now? Somehow she was stuck in the middle of a situation she didn’t want to be in. She liked Mr. handsome and he wouldn’t stop flirting with her, not directly in the office, of course, but in emails, small little signs only the two of them would understand and when they ran into each other - alone. Nobody would notice. The looks he gave her were just one second too long, every ever so gentle touch was filled with some kind of affection and every word they exchanged she started analyzing for some double meaning. She knew, she shouldn’t do it, but she could not not do it. Left somewhere between harmless flirtation, a work-affair and something that might ultimately turn into something serious, Mia lost herself and Mr. handsome.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Eventually she had to make a choice to either let a man dominate her career or to live her life according to her own rules. She would never find out if Mr. handsome really could have pushed her career any further, but she can look herself in the mirror knowing that every step she takes and every progress she makes, she accomplished all on her own.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-20387838542198744342010-08-05T14:50:00.001+02:002010-08-05T14:53:38.393+02:00i always liked horses<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d5FipOgEHDQ/TFqzzuQqxqI/AAAAAAAAAQU/Kj3JFw-F1Gw/s1600/horselamp1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 132px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d5FipOgEHDQ/TFqzzuQqxqI/AAAAAAAAAQU/Kj3JFw-F1Gw/s320/horselamp1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501907595959125666" /></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.moooi.com/producten/124-horse-lamp.html">via</a></span></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></div></span>strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-56996329262882411652010-07-27T20:44:00.004+02:002010-07-27T20:48:57.185+02:00Von Prinzen und Prinzessinnen<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d5FipOgEHDQ/TE8qB-dSHSI/AAAAAAAAAQM/UwlyhNcFK6k/s1600/Just+Kiss+Me.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d5FipOgEHDQ/TE8qB-dSHSI/AAAAAAAAAQM/UwlyhNcFK6k/s320/Just+Kiss+Me.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498659883476720930" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></u></span></div> <!--StartFragment--><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="DE"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Jedes kleine Mädchen hat einen Traum – viele erzählen davon eine Tierärztin in der glühend heißen Wüste Afrikas zu sein und Tiger Babys zu retten, Koalabären in Australien mit einer Flasche aufzuziehen oder Pinguine in der Antarktis bei ihrem Tanz auf dem Eis zu beobachten. Andere beschreiben Schlösser und Feen, irgendwo in einer fernen Welt über den Wolken, hinter mächtigen Wasserfällen, in blühenden Wäldern, in denen die Feen mit ihren glitzernden Flügeln durch die Lüfte fliegen und dabei ihren Feenstaub verteilen, der allen Bewohnern ein Lächeln aufs Gesicht zaubert. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="DE"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Der wichtigste und lebendigste Traum aller kleinen Mädchen ist aber der von ihrem Prinzen, der sie aus ihrem zu Hause, ihrer Welt rettet und erlöst, ihnen eine neue, bessere Welt zu Füßen zu legt und sie für immer glücklich machen wird.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="DE"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Wir alle werden groß mit der Geschichte vom Prinzen, der auf dem weißen Schimmel angeritten kommt und den vielen Fröschen die man küssen muss, bis sich einer von ihnen irgendwann in den langersehnten Prinzen verwandelt. Nur leider lassen wir dabei vieles außer Acht, wie viele Frösche muss man überhaupt küssen bis einer davon zum Prinzen wird? Und wenn einer dieser Frösche endlich zum Prinzen geworden ist, legt er uns wirklich die Welt zu Füßen, hält zu uns in guten wie in schlechten Zeiten, bis das der Tod uns scheidet? Was passiert, wenn er sein Königreich bereits mit einer anderen Prinzessin teilt, mit uns aber gerne ein Ferien Königreich auf dem Land aufbauen möchte?</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="DE"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Wenn ich mich in meinem Freundeskreis umblicke hat jede von uns bereits ein Königreich gehabt, weit über den Wolken, dort wo die Luft klar und rein ist und die Sonne immer scheint. Viele, viele Jahre haben wir unser Königreich mehr oder minder mühselig mit viel Liebe und Geduld Stein für Stein aufgebaut. Mit der Zeit wurde es größer und schöner, einige bauten neue Blumenfelder und kleine Strohhütten andere wiederum legten einen Graben an, der Ihr Königreich schützen sollte. Doch egal was wir alle taten über kurz oder lang wurde jedes dieser Königreiche durch ein Gewitter zerstört. Teilweise waren es heftige Gewitter mit Hagelkörnern groß wie Tennisbälle, teilweise waren es einfach sinnflutartige Regenfälle, die über Monate hinweg unaufhörlich auf das Königreich niederprasselten, bis alle Bewohner langsam aber sicher ertrunken waren. Fast keines dieser Unwetter endete mit Sonnenschein oder gar einem Regenbogen und so gaben Prinz und Prinzessin ihr Königreich auf, um nicht mehr Schaden als notwendig zu verursachen.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="DE"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Die Prinzen zogen fortan durch die Lande auf der Suche nach Abwechslung und Zerstreuung. Einige von ihnen fanden relativ schnell eine neue Prinzessin, andere zerstörten andere Königreiche für nichts und wieder nichts und wieder andere verführten eine Prinzessin nach der anderen ohne das sie auch nur einer davon ein neues Königreich versprachen.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="DE"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Was zurückbleibt sind die Prinzessinnen mit ihren großen Träumen und Wünschen und der festen Überzeugung, dass es eines Tages einen Prinzen geben wird, der ihnen die Welt zu Füßen legt. Wo aber sind die Prinzen von heute? </span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="DE" style="Helvetica Neue"font-family:";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="DE" style="Helvetica Neue"font-family:";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-85910755726499234852010-07-25T11:14:00.002+02:002010-07-25T11:22:24.869+02:00simple is simple is simple is...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d5FipOgEHDQ/TEwCKSnzeEI/AAAAAAAAAP8/DadqTsAd6VE/s1600/men+are+simple.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 247px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d5FipOgEHDQ/TEwCKSnzeEI/AAAAAAAAAP8/DadqTsAd6VE/s320/men+are+simple.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497771620933269570" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><a href="http://romantic.posterous.com/?page=5"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">picture via r.is your life</span></a></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When a woman invites her friends for her birthday party, she wants everything to be perfect, the menu has to be extravagant, the table decoration unique, the location should be the newest in town and even a week in advance she can’t really sleep thinking and wishing for everyone to have a wonderful time. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When a man invites his friends for his birthday party, we can be lucky if he tells us about his idea a day in advance and his biggest concern really is to either find a half way decent girl that he can take home that night, it’s his birthday for crying out loud or to get everyone as drunk as possible, of course. Men are pretty simple like that. Simple is good some times, I guess, but how do we know if it really only is simple and when does it turn into indifference?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I have lived with my boyfriend for more than two years. We’ve shared our life and living space and for the most part it was a wonderful time. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">He was always so easy and relaxed about everything. No matter if I came home from work freaking out about my boss or co-workers, my best friend that had just cancelled our coffee date very last minute or any of the other smallest little things women generally like to turn into something so much bigger. He calmed me down every time, he always had a very simple explanation for everything that had happened, or so it seemed to me, had gone the wrong way. What a great quality you’ll think now, and yes, you are right, that really is a great quality, it seems like such a positive outlook on life, such a sunshine state of mind, easy living – don’t worry be happy. Sounds wonderful, doesn’t it? But once you get to think about it for a moment, is it really that or has it turned into indifference over time? Was I too much, all my worrying, all my concerns and questions, was he so tired from it that he just didn’t care anymore? Up until today I can only guess.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">One of my very best friends Mia dated a guy once; everything seemed to be going wonderfully. To make it easier we’ll just call him the boy, anyways, the boy texted and called her every minute of the day, always wanting to meet and spend time with her. Mia, of course, had learned from past experience and wouldn’t fall for the boy in the beginning. As you are supposed to she waited a good amount of time to write him back, call or meet. She cancelled dates last minute, what naturally made the boy only wanting to see her more. He told her how much he’d admire her for what she was smart, funny, sexy, relaxed and how easy she dealt with the fact that he was in a serious relationship! What? Wait a second, slow down – serious relationship? Where the hell is that coming from? It came as a shock, the world stopped for a second and Mia had to sit down. Again – serious relationship – the word just kept repeating itself over an over in her head. How can he not have mentioned it so far, they had been dating for the last month and nothing, nothing, nothing not one sign of a girlfriend, no mentioning, no not picking up the phone, no suspicious moments in public. How could he not let her know such an important fact, how could she have not noticed? As it turned out the girlfriend wasn’t living in the city, but in the far away countryside and apparently she didn’t mind the boy to have one or the other affair. The boy seemed to have a very simple outlook on his relationship - the girlfriend was cute and nice of course and he didn’t need to be alone that way. Other than that he didn’t really care, did he?!<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Mia broke everything of right then and there. She was not the other woman and never will be. But one question remained how could someone be so indifferent about such a sensitive topic as love. For the boy it could have been any other girl, he didn’t care. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Not for us though, we don’t want simple, we want someone who cares, complicated and complex, honest and straightforward, someone who has not lost their positive outlook on life.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-65406180941761674802010-07-23T12:15:00.001+02:002010-07-23T12:16:46.836+02:00yesterday<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(55, 53, 53); line-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Fire up your engines, Aries. The Sun enters your house of passion and productivity for a month, putting you back in the driver’s seat of your own life. Moodiness evaporates and optimism is restored. Keep those rose-colored glasses perched on your nose. The more you focus on the positive, the more that energy expands. You may soon be tapped for a VIP opportunity. Practice your on-camera smile!</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(55, 53, 53); line-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(55, 53, 53); line-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Can't hardly wait...let's get it on!!</span></span></span></div>strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-11267520723679848402010-07-22T22:17:00.001+02:002010-07-22T22:19:26.888+02:00Good things come to those who wait<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><a href="http://romantic.posterous.com/?page=2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">bild via r. is your life</span></span></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d5FipOgEHDQ/TEinj8k95wI/AAAAAAAAAP0/dS3sY45SG0I/s1600/good+things+come+to+those+who+wait.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 283px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d5FipOgEHDQ/TEinj8k95wI/AAAAAAAAAP0/dS3sY45SG0I/s320/good+things+come+to+those+who+wait.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496827581204129538" /></a>strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-87019414947731405002010-07-20T23:43:00.000+02:002010-07-20T23:44:27.217+02:00A couple of singles<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small; "> </span><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A lot of change happens during our lifetime. We change our clothes everyday, we change our lifestyle and our expectations towards life, we definitely change our boyfriends a few times while we grow older and most of us not only redecorate but also completely move their living spaces to different areas, cities or even countries. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small; ">But what happens to our living situation once we hit a certain age? Are we required to buy an apartment, move in with our boyfriend and start a family?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small; ">For many years I have lived in the city. I shared a flat with my boyfriend and we had the happiest time. I loved waking up next to him in the morning, making coffee while he was still asleep or to lazy to get out of bed, having breakfast together, reading the newspaper side by side, he told me about the business section and what was going on the world of finance and I picked the newest theatre play or the latest exhibition we should see, from the arts section, of course. Just like the wise saying it was the best of time it was the worst of time our relationship and living situation was doomed to end and when it did it really was the worst of time. A break up is one of the most devastating and saddening things that can happen in life, we all know that, but when you have already lived together and shared a life it is even worse. Who gets to keep the place, the furniture, the dishes, the new espresso machine, the designer couch or the bed you have shared your life, your hopes and dreams and your most intimate moments in for the last four years? And what happens to you when you move out, do you get your own place, will you move in with friends or find a shared flat? So many decisions have to be made, so much change to accept. </span><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I for my part decided to not keep anything; I couldn’t bear the thought of keeping the bed, the couch or any of the stuff that we had used together for such a long time. It was our place, not anymore and I didn’t want anything to remind me of that.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Unlike so many others I not only vacated from our flat, I also vacated from our city. Some friends of mine shared a flat in the far away countryside, which seemed like the perfect place to stay at for a while. What I didn’t think about at that time was that coming from a circle of friends where everyone was single handling his or her own life without relying on another person, moving in with 3 people all of whom are in serious relationships is quite a change. Especially once they start talking about moving in with each other, leaving you to the fact that you have just moved out with your now to be called ex-boyfriend. Once you have hit a certain age it seems that is exactly what you need to do, you have a boyfriend, move in, buy a flat, get engaged, get married and have kids. That is of course a wonderful lifestyle, don’t get me wrong, but what if you have just gotten out of all that, do you really want to go back there?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I didn’t want to go back to all that seriousness, I was just starting to feel myself again, go out and have fun. It was much harder in the countryside then in the city and I really had to learn it the hard way. I didn’t really have a choice, though; all my single friends lived in the city, so I was left to me and dealing with myself. It was sad and pretty tough at times, but it made it so much easier in the end. Most of my coupled friends seem to live a happy life, but so do most of my single friends. And for the moment I am pretty damn happy to be one of them, to have the choice if I want to live in a shared flat, or by myself, if I want to spend all my money on clothes and travelling, if I don’t want to do the dishes for an entire week, if I want to have crazy parties at my house, if I want to kiss with two boys on the same night, if I only want to eat apples and tangerines for a week, if I want to fight or not, to smile or not, to be happy or not. For the most part I am. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-28151841378105998812010-07-13T17:50:00.001+02:002010-07-13T19:21:00.333+02:00wait for more<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d5FipOgEHDQ/TDyLdJTU--I/AAAAAAAAAPs/eJH_VSo4vSY/s1600/i+fall+in+love+too+easily.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d5FipOgEHDQ/TDyLdJTU--I/AAAAAAAAAPs/eJH_VSo4vSY/s320/i+fall+in+love+too+easily.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493418978314615778" /></a><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Some people just get under your skin and stay there. Or that is at least what I keep telling myself, mainly because of this one guy that I cant seem to let go off.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small; "> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The night we met the connection was instant. He was the only one I saw, smiled at and talked to the entire night. </span></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I don’t even remember any of the other people.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small; ">After the dinner we found of course some excuse to still hang out with each other and left for a bar near by the restaurant. It didn’t even take 10 minutes until I found myself in his strong arms kissing like crazy.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">He kept calling for the next few weeks. We’ve spent hours on the phone talking about everything. It was so easy, so natural, he’d made me laugh, he’d calm me down, he’d always knew the right thing to say and he’d always find the right time to call. We’d spend a weekend in the far, far away countryside, just him and me. Two days, four walls, one bed. Nothing really happened though, we continued talking and kissing of course. It felt good, after all this time - if falling in love was really that easy and uncomplicated, I thought, I would do it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It was not that easy! A couple of days later I had to learn that my newfound prince had a girlfriend. Did he really? How can that be? Why didn’t he tell me? Does he really love her? Should I really think that right now? Shouldn’t I feel horrible to be the other women? The other women I never wanted to be! What do I do? And the worst of all why do I still like him? <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">He didn’t even try to find excuse, he admitted everything right away but it wouldn’t ease the pain, not this time. I had sticked to the rules, I was smart, witty, funny, incredibly sexy (in the right moments of course) not always available, no pressure nothing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Everything fell apart within days he would’t call or email anymore, no text message, no good night kiss over the phone, no wake up call nothing. All that was left was this big hole of nothingness.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Week’s even month passed by until I should her from him again. It was a Monday 16:23 in the afternoon. I was in the office as usual working, trying to concentrate, distract myself with work. And then all of a sudden my phone rang I didn’t know the number, so I contemplated for a bit if I should really answer it. But as usual I lost that fight. It was him, I was shocked. I couldn’t talk, I didn’t have to. He was in the city and wanted to see me! Should I do that? He lied to me! He has a girlfriend! Does he still? I am not the other women! <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I couldn’t say “No” of course. He was still under my skin, nothing helped he wouldn’t go away, wash off, get out of my life. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small; ">So, we met for dinner, same place different time. It was exactly like the first time. Before I left my apartment that evening I promised myself to stay away from that guy, to not get dragged into this story again, simply to not liking him. But I couldn’t. As soon as he stepped into the door it was a complete flash back, it was only he and I the entire time, I don’t even remember the other people. After the dinner we found of course some excuse to still hang out with each other and left for a bar near by the restaurant. It didn’t even take 10 minutes until I found myself in his strong arms kissing like crazy.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Some people just get under your skin and stay there, or do I fall in love to easily?</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-66485563112899021492010-07-13T11:04:00.001+02:002010-07-13T11:09:47.258+02:00never ending story<div style="text-align: right;">via <a href="http://leloveimage.blogspot.com/">le love</a>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3d9rdv0kbUV8xodWmDaoVl-b8A3x2CRqI7zweWBSKu3yrDbawJJN3OvJqdXNEq4kX5XtTApT1szetxNzAOMEwdtnq4IDI3x8niQLbj1cKYQ7aMTfzxeh3GDajf2fsBcxfogdTzSDa9MHq/s1600/symnup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeu11D4fjTPYD_4uQx-ToYijm9DW3k49ogzoo2f3BcCI1leKut20DzAOM9Vqicw06coSWynFj4xGJwtW6lNEUvb-YzzKX71REn8ZDB9_SGxxCDYEWT7VR-94CuQXlpKb6AR-POIVVyInxp/s1600/242eo7t.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeu11D4fjTPYD_4uQx-ToYijm9DW3k49ogzoo2f3BcCI1leKut20DzAOM9Vqicw06coSWynFj4xGJwtW6lNEUvb-YzzKX71REn8ZDB9_SGxxCDYEWT7VR-94CuQXlpKb6AR-POIVVyInxp/s400/242eo7t.jpg" width="400" /></a><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3d9rdv0kbUV8xodWmDaoVl-b8A3x2CRqI7zweWBSKu3yrDbawJJN3OvJqdXNEq4kX5XtTApT1szetxNzAOMEwdtnq4IDI3x8niQLbj1cKYQ7aMTfzxeh3GDajf2fsBcxfogdTzSDa9MHq/s400/symnup.jpg" width="400" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-58937707939866682392010-07-06T21:27:00.000+02:002010-07-06T21:28:54.282+02:00down under<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">She arrived down under a day later than expected. The airline had some troubles on the way and so she got stuck in almost every airport she could imagine. Spending a night at a crappy airport hotel in London, being delayed in Hong Kong and spending another night at a Sydney airport hotel, before she finally arrived in Melbourne. Stepping out of the airport a warm, humid air came across her easing her body from the immense travel troubles she’s been having for the last two days. But where would she go? She had no idea about Australia or Melbourne for that matter. The only thing she knew was that she had always wanted to go there, it had been a feeling more than anything else.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And then finally a week ago, she was wondering around the city, looking at pretty shop windows counting the little money she had left to decide in the end that she would not buy anything, she somehow ended up at the airport. Without thinking twice about it she bought a ticket to Melbourne – and here she was.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-88045613670365307802010-07-05T10:08:00.000+02:002010-07-05T10:09:16.195+02:00him and her<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">He makes her shiver, makes her heart beat faster and eases her at the same time with his sweet words. Those sweet words that he speaks in his deep dark voice, warm, comforting, respectful. Her phone rings she sees his name her heart jumps her mind is calm. A weird connection, one she has never experienced in her life so far. She always knows what to do and how to do it. She doesn’t want advice she doesn’t want people telling her what to do or where to go. He is an exception, though, he gives advice he means well he supports her. He makes her feel strong and independent, he makes her feel she is doing the right thing, going the right way.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">She hates when people call her - baby - she loves when he calls her – baby -. She can go for weeks without him, without knowing where he is or what he does, without talking to him or thinking of him and then all of a sudden there he is again, her phone rings, her heart jumps her mind is calm. How does he always figure out the right moment to call? How does he calm her down from far, so very far sometimes?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">He is definitely an idiot one she shouldn’t trust, one who is not reliable and one who might just leave and never call you again. She doesn’t want to have a relationship with him, ever, he will betray her, with her best friend, the secretary, the nurse or kinder garden teacher. Yet, he is in her life somehow and she doesn’t want him to leave, to go away. He just makes her feel so good about herself, an independent women in this world, working, working hard in this male dominated environment and still finding her way, being successful, enjoying life in all its beauty. Where is he in this picture and how did he get there. He makes her shiver when he kisses her good-bye.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-57318715544807968362010-07-02T00:11:00.001+02:002010-07-02T00:11:54.479+02:00Umram das Bild in dem ich tauch<div style="text-align: right;">mach mir Luft und Atme auf und nehm den Sonnenaufgang mit.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-74721391865178510882010-07-01T13:00:00.001+02:002010-07-02T00:13:39.914+02:00you are going to be my sun<div style="text-align: right;"></div><div style="text-align: right;">and the future will be bright </div><div style="text-align: right;">- for both of us.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXeJNUD394V9CbgZkwwEvcT3oGqfkIsod7lRqqiUZump_OBZ9G3DJclB7ByBjM3nhwOFp3w8zvZGgUxE1HvtS_o_ESzmqgizJ0TG3UzY0t3Dvo_UeaXsTtJB5GzLX0HT2ouJrbXNt5K_WK/s1600/tumblr_l0f8ampsbN1qa2ibco1_400.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXeJNUD394V9CbgZkwwEvcT3oGqfkIsod7lRqqiUZump_OBZ9G3DJclB7ByBjM3nhwOFp3w8zvZGgUxE1HvtS_o_ESzmqgizJ0TG3UzY0t3Dvo_UeaXsTtJB5GzLX0HT2ouJrbXNt5K_WK/s400/tumblr_l0f8ampsbN1qa2ibco1_400.png" width="357" /></a></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-35442210693260487792010-06-30T16:15:00.004+02:002010-07-01T15:50:55.250+02:00cigarettes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d5FipOgEHDQ/TCycya3lBmI/AAAAAAAAAPk/l1ebCq9Q78c/s1600/australia-drought.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d5FipOgEHDQ/TCycya3lBmI/AAAAAAAAAPk/l1ebCq9Q78c/s320/australia-drought.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488934435877619298" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">she told be she would go to get some cigarettes. i never saw her again.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">i remember she always wanted to live in australia. down under seemed like a place of love and peace to her. maybe a house close to the ocean with wild flowers and even wilder animals in the backyard. sunshine everyday, the possibility to go swimming or surfing, hang out and relax all day.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">she hated to work, had never liked it and had never found something to truly fulfill her. what she liked was being nice to people, helping an old lady cary her groceries, playing hide and seek with the kids and making the most amazing dinner parties ever.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">she would invite all her friends, decorate the house and cook the tastiest meals you can imagine. she didn't even need a recipe. the world was her inspiration and the kitchen her natural habitat, everything was possible, sweet cakes and desert, fresh bread, meat, vegetables everything handmade</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">during summer time she would serve homemade lemonade cold and sour with lots and lots of ice cubes, while her friend would mingle in the garden.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">everyone was having the greatest time until now that she is gone. who is going to cook for us, throw us a party, make us feel good and forget about work?</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">maybe we should stop working too, and try finding her somewhere in this world.</span></span></span></span></div>strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-37837628123814595392010-06-28T22:41:00.002+02:002010-06-28T22:44:42.737+02:00the concept of time<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;line-height: 150%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> <!--StartFragment--> </span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">when you are a couple you seem to have all the time in the world. time to spend with each other, time to go out to dinner, time to travel, go on vacation, time to talk about the future, sometimes even to meet your other couple friends. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">but what happens to your concept of time when you are single?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">all of a sudden everything is different and for some strange reason you seem to have no time at all anymore. you are constantly in a hurry going to work, meeting your friends, going to the newest exhibition or shop-opening and if you are lucky </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">going from one date to another.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">no matter what your concept of time completely changes. it might even leave you totally out of breath while you are running from one place to another trying to manage all those crazy obligations. and all the time feeling the pressure and thinking about all the potential partners you might meet at one of these events.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">this is all fine and good of course from the outside this might even look like fun. most of your couple friends are probably even jealous about your busy schedule and all the exciting things you experience everyday. when my couple friends invite me some how I always end up entertaining them with the newest events regarding either my love life, the latest party fiasco or my job. it feels like my life is so much more exciting but all I want is to be a couple and have all the time in the world.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </span><p></p> <!--EndFragment-->strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-88943564351603652932010-06-24T19:35:00.004+02:002010-06-24T19:57:11.427+02:00live & learn<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d5FipOgEHDQ/TCOa1q8wKYI/AAAAAAAAAPc/EAMN9mBDuBw/s1600/SSL14170.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d5FipOgEHDQ/TCOa1q8wKYI/AAAAAAAAAPc/EAMN9mBDuBw/s320/SSL14170.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486399017920244098" /></a><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">- i </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">have learned it the hard way - is what my grandma used to say to me when i was little. and she sure did. she had 4 kids 3 girls, 1 boy. 3 of them, the 3 girls to be exact, she almost raised all by herself. after world war II my grandpa was kept imprisoned somewhere in the UK, he never really spoke about it, so we still don t know about it. this left my grandma alone with 3 young kids, the need for water, food, money and a lot of responsibility. the years went by they lived their life, she raised them, played with them, fed them, and all this time she never knew if my grandpa would ever come back, if he was even still alive. she never stopped, though, she always kept going until one day he was finally home again.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i can say that my grandparents, apart from the above mentioned, lived a very happy life. they had a big house, with an ever bigger garden, they planted fruits and vegetables, their kids gave them lots of grandkids and those grandkids gave them lots of love and happiness.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and one day those grandkids will have their own children. maybe 2 boys and 1 girl, maybe just a boy, maybe 4 girls we don t know yet. and those children will have children and so on and so on and so on.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and there will be one thing they will all have in common, no matter if they have learned it the hard way or not, they will all have a very happy life.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-6410799935206967512010-06-24T16:30:00.004+02:002010-06-24T16:32:36.459+02:00you<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">i saw you smile today...</span></span></div>strawberryswirlcheesecakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02058922902899132070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6482352178805141610.post-82550109872074717532010-06-24T15:41:00.002+02:002010-06-24T15:41:48.476+02:00dreams...<div style="text-align: right;">... might kill you</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfZxZXdVnYQxilti7uukUP5E373dyslQdGzjlHe6-ep5QqKZVRmBmonrcufPzYbo-6JxLp6hxp-20x_da5Ita_Kbdgx0DKS4UrNxMczXoKxbeF-HfxKDIj3K_4H6JX6CmacQkqBPA4NsEW/s1600/1276555067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfZxZXdVnYQxilti7uukUP5E373dyslQdGzjlHe6-ep5QqKZVRmBmonrcufPzYbo-6JxLp6hxp-20x_da5Ita_Kbdgx0DKS4UrNxMczXoKxbeF-HfxKDIj3K_4H6JX6CmacQkqBPA4NsEW/s400/1276555067.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0