Alright, alright. Yes, I was drinking all by myself in front of my laptop while chatting. But in my defence: the internet with its fast-cut, high resolution, vivid colour flash animated images is driving me to the verge of an epileptic fit and I am not multitasking-typing-able-thingy. My fingers cramp. I have to find a way to relax, to loosen my muscles and stop my finger nails from turning upwards towards my face. I don't know why ICQ allows one to open more than one dialogue window at once anyway. It's ridiculous. Who the hell talks to more than one person at once in real life? It's enough trouble as it is, coordinating the voices in my head (apparently called "conscience") with the ones that define my every-day conversations.
And let's face it: how many people around the globe are already defining their life throught this fast-paced, ever-changing virtual reality? So, assuming I count myself as one of them, I was not alone. I was having a merely virtual conversation with a VERY real friend who only accidentally happend to be very far away.
And we were virtually drinking together.
And I only uploaded those pictures to give the whole thing a faint touch of reality.
And why am I having the urge to justify my drinking habbits all of a sudden?
And why am I on a tropical island?

So after my successful four-week detox in February last year (triggered by my two weeks in Scotland of which I actively remember 4 days), I thought it wise to cut my body some slack and do the same thing again this February. Brilliant plan thwarted cruelly last Saturday by two (really) nice Czech blokes who were sitting at the bar and insisted I had a Guinness with them. Customer is king. And after all, Guinness is the most nutritious beer out of all the beers. One will surely not throw me completely off track…

…12 hours later I wake up at 10 a.m. on my bathroom floor with only the vaguest idea of how I got there. My eyes are swollen, my nose is runny, my finger and toe nails are painted neon pink and my face looks like I took make-up tips from Courtney Love. Oh yeah, and the constant dry heaves. Turns out after we got thrown out of two bars, me and a colleague partied at a friend’s huge condo right across the street from my house. Apart from a really nice flat with an awesome view, she also has a cat and I am (and always have been) allergic to cats. Which did seemingly not bother me in my state of alcohol-induced euphoria so me and the cat became best buddies for one night.


And the moral of the story: Don’t drink. And if you do, at least leave the pussy alone.



Pictures from that night/early morning which I just found on my camera:

Right: me & my new best friend.
Left: my belt and someone's arm
(I think it was intended by me to be one of those casual-from-above-angle pictures but something didn't work out - probably my idea of where 'above' was)



the beautiful dawn which I only dimly remember

After several lunch discussions and a pathbreaking episode of How I Met Your Mother (”Look at you, ya beautiful bastard! You suited up! This is totally going in my blog!”) we are now officially kneeling down to the pressure of virtual reality and starting our own blog.

We now want stuff to totally go in our blog as well!

And there is of course the secret hope that our friends abroad might not accuse us of never giving them an update on our lives anymore. So be prepared to read a lot of emails from us that will say: “Don’t you ever read my blog?!?”

To anyone else who landed here by accident in desperate search of recipes that include rice and potatoes: we apologize. The title stands representatively for each of our home countries' main side dish and this is ment to document what happens if you mix the two of them. Though we do indeed like to cook, so you never know.


Lyn and Cordi