Note to self, in Heidelberg, do not actively go up to the people collecting bottles for pfand. They are like dogs and will then proceed to follow you throughout the rest of the day. And throwing an invisible ball in the opposite direction will only distract them three times.

Throughout the course of this week, I have rewritten an entire hausarbeit, to what standard or quality, I can only imagine. I have seen the yankee celebration of their own independence, an event that defies all logical understanding, most specifically in the most heterosexual of rainbow pinatas, drunken twister and cock block tattoos. And I’ve started treading the Shakespearean boards. Two weeks ago, my Erasmus life was very different. You rarely tend to remember the nights you spend indoors doing nothing, and with that mindset, my own bed may have only been slept in about 3 times this fortnight. It’s about the nights out, and the memories you think you can remember.

Adventures are like one night stands, they’re only good when you don’t know when they’re coming. Change is grand, assuming nothing is left behind and this is the month of change. A final drink goodbye with Matt has solidified a future of Cardiff visits, a loss of evenings under the guise of theatre and an alteration of mindset has proven just how intricately one can be altered through Erasmus’ fidgeting fingers.

I also got called an “unbritish posh twat” by an ex-patriot Brit, who didn’t know what the Rolling Stones were. Fokkin glass ’em.


A bite of affection.


So there we are. We have truly bitten, chewed and spat out our production of Ry Herman’s “Love Bites”, and I have the whip marks to show for it. From its modest beginnings as a small, mostly non-student cast, Love Bites grew to become one of the most talked-about shows of the semester. From the dead cat’s disappointingly tame funeral, to the love lost dominatrix obsessive, and all the way down to a vampire love story that annihilates any notion Twilight may be acceptable as a piece of “literature”. We danced on stage, drank the night away and had a cast celebration in one of the most epic storms Heidelberg has had to offer. No sooner had I joined the cast in the morning to sadly clear out the stage, was it then time to return an hour later, and set up the stage for the upcoming production of As You Like It, coming to an anachronistic theatre forest near you! I can’t say I was quite ready to say byezibye to our darling Vampires and Riding Crops, but the Bard needs his time.

It’s been one helluva week. I guess there’s something in being chained up in your boxers and taking 4am walks in the castle gardens to demonstrate the delightful liberality of the term “art”, and more importantly, to prove that any distance between you and what you care for is purely what you make of it. Knowing one’s failings is in itself a success and to continue with them in your stead will, I guess, just prepare you for whatever else this world has behind its back, ready to throw in your face, with or without the exact velocity of a cream pie.

It’s also been a rather wet week. And not necessarily of the juicy nether-regions inclination either. As mentioned before, there was a ginormous storm, with your characteristic rain, wind and lightning (oh my!) and I, may, possibly, have left my window open, as is characteristic of stuffy accommodation in the heat of summer. And I may, possibly, potentially, might have left my laptop lying under the window. Which, having not been home for three days straight, I returned to on Monday morning to pick up and see a jet of water pour out from the sides, in which pouring stream were the remnants of 2 years of writing, photos, essays, notes and of course, anything that that I, due to a lack of internet access these past few months, had failed to back up. Lists are being made and essays are being rewritten, as are plans to sell what I can in the hopes of covering this slight weather induced and absent-minded incident from ending my year in Heidelberg with academic and financial bankruptcy. I heard the Medical School wanted volunteers.

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