There are, of course, many things in life we don't like and they vary from person to person. Some don't like spinach, others no music (whoever these psychopaths are), some hate maths (take me, take me) and others languages. Some hate crowded places, others fear the solitude. 
So we all have our little hates and loves and I want to talk about two things I recently encountered to be terrifyingly annoying and utterly unnecessary.
And I am not talking about the new president of the US, no, I have decided to treat this narcissistic psychopath with as little coverage as possible to show how much I hate his ego and views, so that is all about that. 
It's winter in Austria, and a winter it is. Truly, I can't remember when we had so much snow the last time and it's freezing cold outside. You have seen the pictures if you have been following my blog, so you know it's like Narnia here.
Still, I see hordes of girls running around with sneakers or converse shoes and with their jeans rolled up so there is a delicate streak of bare skin between the end of the jeans and the start of the sporty, shorty sock and the shoe. I mean, seriously, get dressed for winter. Who would look outside and behold a wonderful winter wonderland and think 'yeah, I think it's a good day for my sneakers.' ?
Why? Why? Why are you doing this to yourself? It doesn't even look cool, girls, it looks as if you were too stupid to dress yourselves and weren't organised enough to buy winter shoes in time. Besides, no one looks at a woman shivering in the cold and thinks she's gorgeous or hot or stylish.
Believe me, I do dress stylish in winter. I am not one of these people who wear fleece jumpers and just anything to keep warm regardless the looks. I do care, I really do; however, I think there are so many wonderful items to buy for winter, ranging from hats and scarfs to cool winter tights and winter boots. It's utterly simple to look stylish in winter - you don't have to show off any skin, no one sees your cellulite, firmly tugged away under your tights and trousers and the stomach fat from Christmas is hidden underneath wonderful Scandinavian jumpers. Seriously, come winter anyone can look like Anna Wintour, but still so many decide against it, which just makes me wonder at them in disbelief and a slight tinge of condescension for their stupidity. 
What about the Ugg boots anyway? They used to be so in fashion and still seem to be, so why wouldn't any girl just wear those instead of sneakers? I don't get it, but hear me out, girls out there. It doesn't look cool and trying to prove a point with your sneakers by shivering in the cold doesn't make you a rebel but a fucking moron, so go to Deichmann or Primark and get yourselves some warm shoes. Winter is coming...actually, it's already here, so even more the matter. 
Alright, this burden off my shoulders. Swiftly on to the next. People who know me know I am a versed anti-smoker and among all the drugs you could pump into yourself, I believe smoking to be the most revolting one. It makes me sick to the bones that smoking is still so present and socially accepted, especially in Austria where you can legally start smoking with sixteen and still smoke in restaurants and bars. It's gross. 
Personally, I also have some waves of aggression against smokers. Not that I would per se not be friends with them or shout at them in the streets, but I think smoking is the most disrespectful thing you can do, and it is hardly impossible to do it and respect the people around you. And that's the thing why I hate smoking so much. It is never, ever a matter of your own. You always drag people into your shit. I don't care if you give yourself a heroin injection or get some lines of cocaine, because it doesn't bother me; smoking, however, does. 
The most aggressive I get when I see pregnant women who smoke or women who smoke when their child is around. And I am allowed to rant all about them because my mother did the same and I condemn her as much as any other. It's sick to do that and should be legally prohibited. 
Generally, if you have an ounce of respect for the people around you, get rid of your ciggies and your horrible habit and stop smoking. Seriously, it would do everyone better and, by the way, you stink!  

From 642 Tiny Things to Write About 

To be answered in rhyme to spice it up a little, feel free to comment, either on my poor rhyming skills or because you want to share your answer. 

What was your favourite flavour of ice cream as a child and why? 

When pigtails bobbed on my shoulders, a long time ago,
In the season when it was neither raining leaves nor snow, 
I fancied ice cream, like every child would do,
However, you may ask, for what did I queue?
Was it the classic and boring vanilla?
Oh darling, no way, such a fun killer...
So, strawberry, so artificially pink?
Oh please, don't make my mood sink. 
Then chocolate, the last one it has to be...
Well, you're getting closer and closer to me, 
However, chocolate wasn't my favourite alone, 
And I have to tell you,
My favourite was always tiramisu. 
Why? I can't tell you, I simply liked the taste, 
and vanilla and strawberry always went to the waste. 
So utterly boring and unoriginally bland, 
my taste wasn't even when I was still digging in sand. 


What's your favourite flavour now? 

Flavours of ice cream, there are aplenty, 
some say ten, some fifteen, some even twenty. 
In all colours, tastes and shapes they come, 
vanilla, strawberry or cherry, to name some. 
But there is the flavour you like best, 
even though it's probably not the same that likes the rest. 
That is why we have so many flavours from which to choose, 
so that on the question which you like best, no one has to lose. 
I, for instance, do like chocolate, amarena and tiramisu 
But what is your favourite? What is it that enlightens you?

What flavour have you always wanted to invent? 

From the many flavours mentioned above,
there are still many missing out which I would love. 
Just imagine ice cream with the taste of profiteroles covered in choc, 
or for the more grown ups under us, beer ice cream or one which tastes like whisky on the rock. 
Personally, the ice cream to delight my taste and tongue, 
Well, about that I needn't think for long.
The perfect ice cream, and I am sure you all agree,
would be one which tastes like more than three...
Imagine ten flavours in one, slowly melting in your mouth, 
every flavour welcome, from chewing gum, schnitzel, pasta or lemon pie, 
Greek ice cream, olives, anchovies and, for more exotic tastes, some Thai. 
One scoop of everything you want and desire for your palate - though one we probably don't need is salad. 
 
Thank you for reading and why don't you share your favourite ice cream flavours? 

Two weeks into the new year, so what about your resolutions? Still working? Still realising them? No? Well, I was clever enough to not even start this bullshit in the first place, so I neither kept them nor broke them. 
Well, to be frank for a change and not george, I wanted to do a new-year-cleansing which is exactly the same as a NY resolution except that I renamed it and can be smug about other people failing to keep up their plans for 2017. What I wanted to do was simply live healthy for a week or two (so one) which simply included getting up every morning at the same time, take meals at the same time of day, do sport three times a week...etc, etc, etc...
I think making plans always backfires because for me it seems like my body hears my brain manifest these plans and flicks into rebel-mode and during a week where I wanted to do all the above mentioned things, I go to McDonald's three times although I hardly go anymore, I cannot get myself up to do any sort of exercise and am suddenly so extremely tired that I find myself in bed most of the time, watching Youtube videos. It's horrible, but unlike most people with their resolutions, I surrender and accept that I am not perfect and know there will be weeks where I will be perfectly able to fulfil the above given tasks. So, no harm done.

Also, I have to tell you, mainly to cause jealousy, that the winter has finally arrived and Innsbruck is covered under a thick blanket of snow. We've done the whole programme - well, at least regarding the few things I do outside in winter as I consider it to be a time where you should only be sitting inside, sipping cocoa and reading, which is why I love the season. Still, my man and I went to the park and had a snowball fight, I went sledding with my dogs, which is always dangerous because Sofy grabs my calf and tries to drag me off the sledge whereas Lily, my old dog, just tries not to be run over. It's all very entertaining. 
As most people know, I don't ski. I have never understood the appeal of standing on two wooden boards and sliding down a hill, but, hey, different tastes I guess. 
Also, our oven is still broken and has been for three months now and neither the landlord nor the management seem to care, so I will have to call them tomorrow again - my horror scenario - and take up a more serious tone - no, wait, that is actually my horror scenario, especially as the management woman is painstakingly nice so that it is nearly impossible to be mean to her. I assume these are just the hardships of adulthood and when I think I will have to deal with situations like these all my life, I am honestly considering to crawl back into my mummy's womb and start all over again because adulthood sucks... 
But to end on a cheery note, some pics of the winter wonderland I call my home at the moment. Enjoy, and don't forget to sip your cocoa. 

​

HAPPY NEW YEAR! We've all made it and now normalcy can prevail. We can calm down from Christmas and fireworks and embrace the January depression (because, what else can you do?) 
People who know me know as much as I love Christmas, I hate New Year's Eve. It stresses me to think a new year is coming, with so little having been accomplished in the last one and the deep inner knowledge that next year will not bring much more. That is why I don't make resolutions (NNYER=No New Year's Eve Resolutions). I have decided to treat it as a day as any other (apart from the six course dinner and the fireworks, thank you mummy) and slide into the new year with the same attitude as last year's because I don't want my attitudes to be tied to something as short-lived as the transition into the new year. I have been wanting to be more active, eat healthier, etc, etc for months now and I will continue to want it even if everyone else has already failed to complete their resolutions and feels depressed about it. 
Actually, this year NYE was pretty nice. We had dinner at my parents's house, lovely chats and I did an impression of Madam Chaminska (if you want to know what that is, click here and watch it, it is in German though) before heading off to my sister's flat because she has a roof terrace. My parents didn't leave the dogs and I am pretty sure they slept into the new year (lucky bastards). We headed up to the roof and had a great view from there over all the fireworks. My man gave me the new year's kiss and we waltzed into 2017. It was all very romantic. 
After that, we headed into the city and went out until half past five in the morning, which was a bit too long for my taste, but alright. We had lots of fun and I didn't have insomnia ever since (probably I should drink more alcohol and party harder). 
This year it was the first time since long ago that I didn't feel panic emerge - even though it is the most frightening year transition I have ever been at. I don't really have any good prospects for the future at the moment and still don't know where my path is going to lead me (or if I am even anywhere close to my path, probably I am still running around, lost in the woods); however, probably it is because I did many cool things in 2016 and feel like I have actually really accomplished something. For the first time, the thought "I need to move to England and work there" didn't pop into my head immediately. At least one tick, right? 
Good. Now, let's proceed with something else. Recently, I wanted to do what I call my personal nightmare. Buy a bra. Holy cow, it's the most terrifying thing in the world (apart from buying a pair of trousers). Usually, I buy my bras at H&M but as I got a voucher, I wanted to buy something a bit more expensive and better and headed to Triumph, a lingerie store. 
What I hate about these specialist stores is that there work five pimped, stick-thin, overly make-upped women who all fling themselves on you as soon as you enter the door. They bring you stuff to the dressing room, peek inside when you're half-naked and then, after all these bras you tried on, you come to your senses and realise you don't want to spend fifty Euros on less than a square metre of fabric. Then it is so difficult to hand everything back and leave the shop without having purchased anything. It actually hurts but I have finally gained the maturity to refrain from buying something only that the shop people are happy. 
Triumph was OK, they were nice and let me leave without any further ado. However, next I went into Intimissimi (don't know where all the s and m belong, your choice) and there it was horrifying. I didn't even ask for help and browsed the shelves on my own before snatching two bras and disappearing into a dressing room. As I was standing there, close to naked and the bra pressing into my boobs, a tiny, weeny saleswoman looked inside (without asking, in case you were wondering) and with a voice which would have fit a five-year-old said: "How are we getting on in here?" First of all, there is no we. I was alone. Second, BACK OFF BITCH. I wasn't asking for advice or help but soon I was finding myself swamped in bras of every size and shapes she kept throwing in my room whilst shouting "Oh, this one looks SOOOO good on you, really a great fit, don't you think, don't you think, DON'T YOU THINK?" 
Slightly intimidated, I tried on some of the bras and they were all lovely, but not what I was looking for. I was just about to buy the last one, just to have something bought and shut up the saleswoman when a weird mood set on me. I decided I had the right to leave without buying something, especially when she had imposed herself on me. From outside I could already hear her ask my slip size and I knew it was time to flee. Decisively, I marched out, tossed the bras into her arms and declared none of them were right for me. 
"But the last one fitted you so well", she said, slightly personally offended, but I didn't give a shit. I waved to my sister to signal we were leaving and, with my head and pride high, left the shop, leaving an offended saleswoman behind. 
Well, there are these days and if there were any resolutions for this year it would be to continue my personal growth exactly as it is as I am starting to become a person I finally like and this is probably the most important resolution one could make: just accept yourself the way you are and start believing in yourself.