Seeing stars

Living in a city is wonderful much of the time, but when I get out of whichever city it is, I always realise that there are things I subconsciously miss.  Like the open fields, the woods, and the stars on a clear night.  Some of my clearest memories are of watching the sky, not a one of them are bad.

Vincent van Gogh, The Starry Night (wiki)

On Saturday I had my own starry night.  I was LTN’s plus one to his old rugby club Christmas dinner.  After being pinned into my dress and climbing a stepladder into my shoes, meeting all his friends and watching people do many strange things, I happily danced those shoes off again and afterwards agreed to walk to the station through the clear and frosty night. The stars were wonderful – which I may have mentioned to LTN more than once or twice.  I might also have mentioned that it was quite cold and the path was uneven and therefore walking was harder as a short person in tall heels than as a tall person in flat shoes.  Maybe.  But it was worth it, the stars really were that lovely.  And the company was too.  Good times.

swinging Saturday

It wasn’t just the woolly aspect that made this Saturday rather delicious, it was lovely rambley Berlin day.  I started the morning with tea and chick lit auf Deutsch in bed, then dusched and took myself off to the market.  Ostensibly this was in hunt of presents, but I ended up scoffing a sausage and buying myself souvenir necklace so that didn’t quite work.

And then my day went even more pleasantly off plan, as I joined the crowd around Rob Longstaff and stayed there for ages, drinking coffee, enjoying the vibe.  It was all that is best of Berlin for me, there were even random folks swing dancing next to the little kids bobbing in their warm and toasty onesies.  He was chatty and versatile and since I’m feeling seriously sentimental at the moment I bought myself his CD to remind myself of all my happy mornings just standing with strangers in the sunshine, listening to live music and feeling lucky.  That will always be Berlin for me.  I may not have made it to many museums but when I’ve been waylaid in this way, I really can’t regret it much.

Photobox

I think I’ve run out of words a little bit.  I should be telling you about the fantastic night of reggae, dancehall, d&b, and jungle dancing that Tea and I found just down the road from  me.  I could then maybe go on to describe the superfantastic mick jagger inspired dance/pouting that we produced by the outside bar in much more select company of groovers. I might also mention that we were without doubt the coolest people there and that we had a sausage on the way home sometime around 5am. But I’ve run out of words.

That means you get a mixed box of photos from the weekend that I didn’t fit into the last two posts, including photos from the box of retro style that is Photoautomat.  We did a pretty good job I think but next time I’m planning my pouts and taking props.  Then we’ll see something special.  Hell yeah.  Night kids!

Kitchen dancing in someone else’s kitchen

On Wednesday night after work I had a very strong need for a glass of red wine and someone to chat to.  Luckily Severin was in the living room ‘working’ so I made him my accomplice.  In the course of the chat which was mixed of Deutsch and English because I was trying but my brain was broken, he mentioned a potential house party outing on Friday.  Having no plans I was of course interested and said as much before toddling off to chat to LTN before bed and a lovely Thursday lie in.*

However, come Friday evening I was feeling a little bit sleepy and uninspired.  It had a been a long week into which I squeezed lots of work and some evenings in the pub, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for a house party in foreign.  I find it challenging enough doing the talking at parties of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend without adding a language barrier into the mix.  Severin was also dozy but we agreed that when there’s a party on offer two streets away you’ve really no excuse not to go.  And therefore we should, and we would. Besides, apparently there would be actual Austrian aristocrats there.  It wasn’t on my Berlin list to party with Austrian aristocrats but it should have been so I needed to tick it off…

So, we needed a battle plan.  Luckily there was red wine left, and Severin decided to introduce me to the stereo in our living room. Turns out the speakers are amazing, with quality bass.  We had a little techno moment to demonstrate power, and then moved through Nicolas Jaar (apparently DJ wunderkind of the moment) and onto some reggae for more bass appreciation. I was waking up at this point, happily reminded of kitchen parties with Cee, but tempted to continue chilling at ours rather than going on.  And then he played me this and I got the giggles.  It’s genius…I particularly like the ‘Obama!’ interjections and the ‘oy, oy’ moments.  Enjoy!

After a bit Kaspar came home and joined us, then Severin’s friend Bryn and finally his flatmate too.  We had a crew.  After fizz and some warm up dancing we went to rock the joint down the road.

Summary of the party: Many of the people were in bizarre clothes.  I threw a lot of stupid shapes, kitchen dancing and bedroom dancing and gurning for England.  I missed my usual accomplices for dancing-like-a-fool (Cee, Tea and Sam are all outstanding in the silly-faces-n-shapes stakes but the list of names could include all of you lovelies) but Severin was an excellent stand in.   I got twirled a little bit, which was much fun, and I remember demanding a piggy back during a beer run (I didn’t want beer but I fancied the outing).  I spoke Deutsch and French with Eva (Bryn’s French flatmate) and assorted Austrians, and I think I had an almost argument with a gigantic rugby playing German.  About rugby.  In German.  Weird.  Then at somewhere around 3.45 I ran out of dancing juice and ran home to bed.  Job done.

My conclusion – dancing really does put me in a good mood. I was positively prancing around this morning.  Then I got all tired and had to have a lie down in the sunshine!  Lazy Saturdays are alllll good.

*Thursday lie ins will be a thing of the past come May, I’ve just agreed to take on a class at 7.30 in the morning.  Am I mad???