Unintentional Gluttony, Brain Freeze and Rest

I revisited one of my favourite places for cake today (which also happens to be the location that this post took place in). I always become a little over-ambitious when it comes to dessert, so I tried to go light on the drink- to no avail.

Also (see, this post isn't just a lazy repost!) the last part of this post's title should really be 'Lack of Rest'. I've been burning my candle at both ends lately, with a full-time job, writing for four blogs in total, baking and recipe-creating for two out of those four blogs, looking into more writing work on the side to build experience and looking into training and courses for myself in my spare time. Then I exercise nearly every day, and snatch a few moments here and there for other hobbies like craft and music (ah the days when all of my spare hours were spent on the piano...) There are, quite literally, not enough hours in the day.

I love being busy, but I thought I was fine with energy levels until today on the tube, when I wandered onto two wrong trains in a row to meet my visiting friend today, and then straight away led her onto three wrong trains in different directions to a place that I go to all the time.

I think it's a sign I need some me-time. Looking at my diary, I think I can book myself a time slot for that sometime in June...

Mean Ice Cream Man

I went out for my first run since autumn last year today because the weather is finally catching on that it's spring. It was challenging- not because I'm out of practice (I found other ways to keep fit during the long winter)- but because there were so many other people out enjoying the sorely missed sun. My self confidence has fallen a bit, hiding under all the winter layers, so the real challenge was getting out there in all my Lycra glory. I needn't have worried though, because as soon as I took my first step, I felt awesome- I hadn't realised how much I'd missed running.

The biggest challenge was not chasing after the ice cream van like a rabid greyhound after a hare.

It was a reasonably hot and sunny day to be out running, and I was quite red in the face and obviously baking a little bit. Just as I came to the tough uphill part of my run, an ice cream van drove past- and started to drive really slowly just ahead of me. At first I thought he was looking for a place to pull up, and it dawned on me that he didn't even have the jaunty ice cream van music playing.

Then I realised he was trolling me.

I saw his stupid grinning face in his wing mirror and considered scowling back at him, but decided to act nonchalant. Even so, the horrible bastard continued to trail just ahead of me all the way up the hill, until we both came to the top and he sped off, laughing.

I hope he gets lemon sorbet in his eyes.

~Fin~

So I Went to Berlin and...

... Ate cake the size of my face:

Co-invented Treslechesblaubeerrosemarmeladehaselnusssahnekuchen:

Saw some funny stuff:

Saw some powerful stuff:

And drank some girly beer:

And again, like in Australia, nothing particularly crazy happened. I even had a free seat next to me on the flight home. There was one small weird (or rather uncomfortable) moment on public transport though, on the bus to Schoenefeld airport: I was sitting directly opposite a young French couple, close enough so out knees were touching, and they were pretty much eating each other's faces for the whole journey. I stared to resolutely out of the window that I had a crick in my neck by the time the bus reached the airport.

Other than that, it really does seem like the truly bonkers stuff only happens to me when I'm on home ground. Interesting...

Public Transport: Stuck in the Air

Next weekend I'm going to Berlin to visit my friend Vicky, and it'll be the first time ever I've travelled by plane all by myself.

I'm not scared at all- I'm rather excited actually. However there is just one small matter that concerns me, and it's the same with any form of public transport:

What the random stranger sitting next to me is going to be like.

Or even if I'm going to be stuck with a few choice weirdos, never mind if they're right next to me or not. Some of my best stories and strangest memories comes from tales of the general public whilst on a train or bus: from stoners performing magic tricks to get out of paying a fare, to stoners metaphorically crying on my shoulder about their life (I really wish I could remember enough of that bus journey to do it justice here), to massive guys stinking of rotten cheese and literally falling asleep on my shoulder and squashing me to being on a train full of drunken football supporters and dog show competitors (at the same time). Only this time I'm going to be stuck in a tin can thousands of miles up in the air with them.

Of course I've been on flights where there have been irritating people on board, from the classic screaming child and back-of-seat-kicker to, most recently on the way back from Australia, a guy who took his shoes off and put his bare (and smelly and quite dirty) feet up when food was being served. It's always different when you're by yourself though, as there's nobody to go 'Get a load of this guy!' to.

Maybe I'll come back and absolutely nothing wacky will have happened to me, which will go towards confirming my theory that weird stuff only happens to me in Britain. We shall see. To be honest, if the last time Vicky and I met up is anything to go by, anything crazy that happens will most likely be self-inflicted. In fact, my German doppelgänger out there is probably about to write a blog entry about two mad British girls...