heyitsdaphne

The only way you’re going to scare me on Halloween is if you’re dressed as a damaged nuclear reactor. I’m not afraid of snakes and spiders, but I’m terrified of radiation. If you made me choose tomorrow morning between visiting Chernobyl or North Korea... Pyongyang here I come.

I got talked into watching „One battle after another“ and I actually really liked it. Later I was talking about the movie with a friend and he asked if I‘d be willing to go on date with Leonardo DiCaprio. I said absolutely not, on account of his dating habits. We then had the most absurd debate about how most women would probably say yes. So I spent the rest of the week asking a bunch of women I know if they’d go on a date with him, just to prove a point. We got roommates, coworkers and moms involved. To my dismay, most women said yes. They just wanted the clout of having been on a date with DiCaprio.

You know that feeling when you’re hoping for good news, and you get one of those long, well-written, promising emails? It‘s crafted like this beautiful origami crane, and when you read it there‘s just a big fat no inside.

My mother was beautiful, I'm not even exaggerating. Our eyes look similar. I remember that even when I was too young to understand what beauty was, I could feel how the energy in a room changed when she walked in. She had to deal with a lot of unwanted attention; it was polite and subtle, but still palpable enough that I noticed it even as a kid. It's silly to say it, but when people praise my looks, I feel like they're just complimenting my mother. She was the star, I'm just a derpy copy of her. Even two generations from now, mom will still be collecting compliments.

If you want to find out who someone really is, watch their reaction as their ICE train leaves right in front of them. Such a mundane thing to happen, but it really tests your character.

Someone recently gave me one of the sweetest compliments and nastiest insults I’ve heard in a while, both in the same afternoon. It was so confusing, felt like a kiss and a slap. You’d think they’d cancel each other out, but not really. Guess which one I still think about.

I'm always flattered when Germans smile at me in public transport. I think „I camouflage well, they must think I'm one of their own.“ But by the time I finally learned how to look like a local in Berlin, I went to Munich. I‘m not fooling anyone here with my cargo pants.

Whoever took my umbrella from the coffee shop, I hope you drop your keys in the Biomüll dumpster.

I have a cold and no umbrella (see previous note) and I’m standing kind of dejected in front of a Rewe in Prenzlauer Berg. A well-dressed, tall guy is taking a long business call. Bad news judging by his body language. He towers over his three year old son, who looks up at him to understand what could possibly be more important than him. The little boy eventually loses his patience, grabs his dad’s coffee cup with both hands and takes a big gulp. I panic because I don’t really know how much coffee a toddler can have.

I know so many people who are two or three honest conversations away from being on great terms, but I know those conversations will never happen. They either lack courage or humility to some extent. I can’t blame them, there’s so many conversations I wish I could have.

I'm finally starting to master the art of exact change whenever I buy anything with cash. If there's some national competition for this in Germany, I'd be down to participate. If you want to be competitive, this is what you need:

Saw people queuing up in front of the new Uniqlo store in Munich like it’s some trendy Michelin star restaurant. Here’s my Uniqlo jammies, I got them „zu verschenken“ from my neighbours.