In which there are vampires and much sparkling.

I've been snyooggled here under me covers for a while now after an eventful day in which I corrected translations by non-native English speakers, thespianed, and witnessed the wind bend the metal pole of my umbrella into a perfect right angle. It was a little unfortunate, but as the droopy thing wasn't really doing anything in terms of keeping me dry anyway, I just laughed for a while and bent it back. After all of this incessant gray, it's nice to have a bit of spicy atmospheric conditioning for a change.

On that note, I just peeked out the window to see what all the wooshy vacuuming was about (see here) and maaan, those giant trees sure are lookin' a bit flip-floppy-toothpickish. However, I would much prefer to see a bit of bluster than the scene which normally greets me, being this one:

Seriously, there is a bald-headed, black-wearing old man (not Patrick Stewart, woe is me) who resides in the window across from mine and spends the majority of his time leaning outside, smoking, and staring directly at me. It's quite possible that he's not actually as much of a creeper as I think he is (I bet you're reading this right now, Mr. Nosferatu Creeper Man!), but watching antiquated German vampire flicks has made me wary, if not downright paranoid. Several weeks ago I made the holy pilgrimage to IKEA in order to purchase another layer of drapery to protect myself against his plague-spewing gaze, aaand walked out the store with not only new curtains, but also elk-head-shaped multigrain pasta! (Betcha didn't see that one coming.) Once back in my lair, I treated Mr. Nosferatu Creeper Man to a show of me hanging up my new curtains. That was, of course, after I doused them in garlic powder. No suspect bite marks on this neck yet.

Back to the topic of correcting translations done by non-native speakers, I hereby present to you an example of why such things are important. From the fine world of cruise ship cabin descriptions:

"All cabins have limited view caused for example by a jollyboat hanging in front of your window. Therefor this cabin is perfect for passengers who do not expect a beautiful view out of their cabin."

Totally cute, is it not? My side job currently consists of spending ten hours a week turning practical translations into good translations, which takes just about as long as translating things myself, if not longer. It has the potential for tediosity, but the hearty chuckle I get every now and then from funny phrasing and silly word selection makes it all worth while. (The moolah doesn't hurt either.)

But anyway, now that linguistic tickling is done we can get onto the juicy visual stuff. The Christmas markets have come and gone (though the season continues for another three days yet, eh!), but luckily technology has devised a way of making them reappear. For example, pictured above (above Max Schreck, that is) is a scene from the popular market on the Rathausmarkt, in the rain, as usual. (Love me some rainy night, colored light fotoz.) There we are again below, but under unusual weather conditions.

And while we're going on about things that the atmosphere does, can I just say how much I love the starkness of late-November/early-December skies? (This is 'Merica, I can say whatever I want!) ((Ehrm, waitasecond...))

And and and then let's talk about how excited Margaret gets when it snows! VERY EXCITED. Too bad it's such a rare and delicate thing in this mooshy climate.

No, that's not snow below, though it is a neat photo, fo'sho. Oh, oh.

All this talk of snow is making me hungry (heeee), so let's have a look at Christmas market foooood instead! Such as nutella roasted almonds!

 

Or alternatively, my all-time favorite market food, the thing I'd been salivating about in my dreams for past two years, the one, the only, the savory, the delicious, the hot cheese-stuffed-and-baked-inside-long-tubes-of-bread-dough-and-then-sits-like-a-rock-in-your-stomach-for-a-week, the Dresdner Handbrot!

One evening getting into the early 20s of December, I accompanied myself on an extensive Foto-Spaziergang around the city center. I wanted to put a little of the sparkle in jars to taste again in July.

The lone photographer stalks its prey along the edge of the wavey waters.

My favorite moment of that solitary adventure was discovering this little detail. It gave my heart a squeeze and told it that it wasn't alone in it's love for this place, that it was never alone. Now isn't that just nice?

P.S. Speaking of not being alone, I have to confess that I start to feel a little lonely each time I put so much juice into a post and then have it be received in silence, with the exception of my most ever-faithful reader-- I love you, Mom. I'm by no means needy, but I am honest. If you're out there, a little hello in my comment box from time to time might be more special than you know. Kthxbai!