If it's not Raven, it's crap...

Tomorrow is my last day of work at FHHM . What can I say? It was many things. It was real. I'm slightly bummed that it had to end this way, because I think it's about the closest I've ever come to having my dream job. In fact, it really was literally my dream job -- just with pretty shitty pay. But rather than focus on all the things that were oh-so wrong about it, I want to take away the memory that -- at least for a somewhat brief period in my life -- I was doing exactly the thing that I wanted to do. I got to listen to albums before they came out, I got to go to concerts for free and I got to see my name in print. It was a ridiculous dream in some respects, but it was mine and I kind of got it to work for awhile. So no regrets from my side. I got my fancy new electronic passport last week and my new work permit on Wednesday. I jump right into my new job next Tuesday. I'm looking forward to it. Honestly though, I don't quite know what to expect or what exactly my

Ok, it's probably a little early in the year to declare a "link of the year", but my vote goes to a website called Stuff White People Like . I discovered it sometime last month and check it out on a regular basis now. It's pretty spot on -- and I should know... I'm half-white and out of the 87 things on the list, I can say that I like about 43 ½ of them.

OH MAN! I love it when people come visit me. It happens so much the opposite of frequently. This week, I had the good fortune of welcoming my surrogate brother (from another mother), Tunde , into our humble apartment. He arrived Tuesday night and left this morning -- a pretty short visit -- so I took the picture posted above this morning, simply because I wanted photographic evidence of event. He got in at about 8pm on Tuesday, short notice (he decided to take a train from Frankfurt around 3pm), and I was somewhat at a loss of what to do when he got in. Tuesday is not exactly the most poppin day of the week in Hamburg City. I brought him home, introduced him to Schmiddy and the three of us went out to the Reeperbahn where we showed him the world famous Herbertstrasse (well, Schmiddy did anyway), then the Esso gas station , then Lunacy for a couple of Mexikaner shots. Schmidt went home before midnight because he wanted to go to this place called "work" the next day. This

The good thing about getting laid off with a delayed termination date is that any fear you might have about making career-ending mistakes pretty much disappears. The end is in sight and it's not really like you can get double fired or laid off again and by this point I feel like showing up is more or less a favor, since I technically got a shitload of vacation days just begging to be used up. I got a new job; however, my future is kind of in the hands of the German employment office (again). So with my motivation at my old (but still current?) company at an all time low and my anxiety re: German bureaucracy at an all time high, I've turned my attention to somewhat frivolous matters: namely, the planning of my 27th birthday party. I figure this way, if everything works out, then I totally have something to look forward to...and if it doesn't...well, then fuck it. ( Click Below For More ) As I previously mentioned , I'm in the market for a third-party party location, in w

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net I've been sick for the better part of the week (officially and somewhat unbearably sick since Tuesday, tolerably ill since last Friday). I also took some time to go see The Boy . He took good care of me, even though I'm pretty sure he had really envisioned my visit going much differently. Haha...gotcha, biatch! After a couple of days of runny nose, chills & fever and making The Boy fetch me tea and give me backrubs, I felt ok enough to try to get some errands done. We went to the Suppenbar (delish!) and it was there where I caught a glimpse of face for the first time in a few days in kind of natural lighting. The Boy must either 1.) really like me or 2.) have really bad eyesight, because every time I said that I "look/feel mucus-y and disgusting" he was all like, "No, no -- you look totally cute". Let me tell you folks, cute was not the vision staring back at me in this particular bathroom mirror. My nose was all