I cracked my phone last week. Not to weird flex, but it was my second time cracking a phone. My first one was this old pink ‘LG touch screen something’ ten years ago. Again, not to weird flex, but I was shook when I found my phone cracked. It happened on my bed, of all places, and I suspect it was my laptop’s doing. I still don’t understand how I cracked my phone. And actually, I’m still waiting for the moment I will wake up and see my phone isn’t cracked.
It was just the other day that I witnessed one of the gravest crimes possible. I was on the tram back home and the man in front of me was eating a sandwich, which in itself was fine. What was not fine, was what he did with the wrapping of his food. First, he tried to tuck it in a corner on the tram, but he decided against that once he saw me glaring at him. However, this man had the audacity to throw his trash out of the tram the second the back door opened. He then continued living his life as if he didn’t just help fuck up the environment a little bit more.
14 October 2018 at 7:32 pm
- Author’s note: I was procrastinating about a week ago and started going through my notes and thought it might be fun to share my scattered, unrelated, and unedited thoughts. Among others, I found some quotes, both story and essay prompts, random number sequences, and even a whole fanfic (which I will not share with you). Enjoy this compilation of notes from my phone but BE WARNED: lack of punctuation, bad syntax and grammar, and a lot of fragmented notes ahead.
Even though I hate to admit it, I think one of my favorite European cities might be Paris. The city has become a big cliché, being dubbed a city that oozes romance, but I believe there is so much more to it. I went to Paris for the first time with my parents about ten years ago. My second time was when I went on a field trip during high school four years ago. The third time was again with my family, but this time around I was more of a tour guide, as I had to show around my mother and American relatives. This is the story of my third trip to Paris. Continue reading “Paris, What’s Good?”
It is that month of the year again. The Eurovision season has begun. I remember that ever since 2006 I have been watching this big ol’ European glitter party. When I was younger I used to beg my parents to let me stay up late during this one week in May and they did. You see, to you 2006 sounds like an oddly specific year, but to me a lot happened in 2006. Eurovision-wise; I don’t really remember anything else from 2006. It was the year Armenia first participated and Lordi won by singing “Hard Rock Hallelujah”. It was also the year I got my first crush. Remember Dima Bilan? Maybe not, but I do. You might also wonder: why up until 2017? I like to be surprised during the semi-finals instead of knowing every song by heart already prior to those semi-finals. I have no clue about what this year’s songs are going to be like.
Let me guide you through the past 11 years of Eurovision. Not all songs I’m going to mention are necessarily good songs, but I enjoy them and they are kind of iconic. I won’t be able to discuss all the songs I consider gems, so I’ve made a playlist with hopefully all amazing songs from the past years. There is no particular order to this compilation. The headings will be enough to understand. Buckle up, because you are in for a ride.
Do regular diaries and planners annoy you? Have you always wanted to design your own schedule? Do store-bought machine-made agendas feel useless to you? Do not look any further, because the solution is here! Introducing the bullet journal: notebook with dotted, numbered pages. Ready for you and your pen to draw up your schedule the way your heart desires to.
Vienna, Austria. A city with refined beauty, a city filled with classical music, a city that’s the embodiment of art, and a city that has the worst type of cabdrivers you will ever meet. Okay, maybe those cabdrivers are not limited to Vienna. Normally, I’m not the type who drives around a city in a cab, but I was visiting with my parents and both of them are not the best walkers anymore. We drove in a cab maybe four times, and all four times the drivers pulled out their phones and answered messages they had received. Excuse me, sir, we didn’t get in your cab to risk dying here, or did we?