Flavorwire’s Margaret Eby made an interesting observation:

“Let’s face it: some names just have better songs than others. If you’re a “Sue” or a “Caroline,” there are endless ballads to your beauty and badass-ness. If your name happens to be “Jebediah,” you’re out of luck, unless you like hymns.”

So, in the world of Rock’n'Roll, what does my name reveal?

Flavorwire found out that I’m supposed to be “Alternately sad and nasty, object of Rivers Cuomo’s lust, need[s] to be alone at night”
According to: Prince, Weezer, The Velvet Underground

Isn’t there more to it?

In my youth I failed to infatuate members of the local Rockscene enough to have them write odes about me. My friend then, named Lisa as well, at least got the King of Pain to sing a few lines about her, involving a dry dock and a skirt with bells. That song never made it to stage though…

Come to think of it, the same King dedicated a song to me on a gig, calling my name the “most metal” in town.

But darn it, he meant my last name.  Still I’m no further on my quest to find out what reputation I have in the rockosphere.

Certainly Rock’n'Roll, if a bit yellow, are the Simpsons, in whose mind I’m a gift of a little sister. They’ve got that one right.

Cat Stevens, before he lost some of his marbles, thought Lisa is sad and lost in the dark.

Marius Müller Westernhagen deems me a great dancer.

The Sugarplum Fairy boys feel insecure when Lisa’s walking down the street but they never want to dance with no other.

Lisa is everything to Ben Folds, even if she’s “so sensitive”.

Lisa Loeb sings:

“Lisa, won’t you listen?
The moon shines for you:
You’re tipsy and turning, you’ve got one foot on the floor.
You’re alive, you are burning.
You always wanted more.”

I haven’t been drunk once in the last five years.

Lisa stole Bowling For Soup’s heart “when Eddie Vedder was king”.  I was in primary school then and didn’t steal many hearts.

The attentive reader guesses right when he thinks I’m not truly represented in the Rock’n'Roll hall of fame.

If anyone wants to change that, be my guest. Biffy Clyro perhaps? That would be swell…

Tags: names, Rock'n'Roll

Hubby’s last birthday brought about the opportunity to try something new in the baking department. After consulting my favourite recipe-magazine “lecker” I knew I just had to try Cynthia Barcomi’s cinnamon rolls. The pictures were awesome. May admittedly didn’t call for recipes using cinnamon, but the rolls also have raisins in them. At least one guest, Zuckerneffe, loooves raisins, so I went for it.

First I had to cook 125 g potatoes.

After squishing them I added 60 g soft butter

and squished some more. Then I added an egg, 1/8 l milk, 1/8 l buttermilk and 21 g yeast (I used dry yeast).

I took my big bowl and put 650g flour, 35g sugar and 3/4 teaspoon salt into it. The recipe then calls for 40g raisins, which the whole family thought of as not enough.

I then added the potatomix to the dry ingredients and blended them.

Now came the fun part! I had to knead the dough with bare hands for 5 minutes til it was smooth. Back with it in a buttered bowl and covered it with a damp towel so I could wait an hour for the dough to rise, giving me some time for reading .

You can bet that after an hour I couldn’t wait to lay my hands on that beautiful dough again, and lucky I was: I was allowed to punch it down!

Ever tried punching a dough and taking pictures of it at the same time? That takes mad skillz. And it feels oh-so-good!

After buttering my spring form I melted 2 spoons sugar-beet sirup and 60 g butter in the microwave. I then mixed 4 spoons sugar and 1 spoon cinnamon. Flour got sprinkled on my working-top and I rolled the dough to a 2 cm thickness. Finally using my new red rolling pin!

I proceeded to smother the dough rectangle with the butter-sirup and left some space at the edges. Then I sprinkled the cinnamon-sugar over it like a mad fairy-godmother.

Mouthwatering! Especially if seen up-close, yummi!

I then rolled the whole sticky mess up like “lecker” instructed: “like a carpet”.

A sharp Solingen knife helped me to cut it into 3-4 cm thick pieces, which I put into my spring-form and let rest for another 30 minutes.

Doesn’t that look like golden perfection? Look again:

After 30 minutes they were snuggled close like Kindergarteners on their first field-trip: A bit scared, but definitely excited for the things to come.

I baked them for about 30 minutes on 165° (air-circulation) and out they came: Smelling awesome and looking like a cake.

The texture was so fluffy that all three grandmas couldn’t believe I didn’t use “real” yeast and everyone came back for seconds. Especially Zuckerneffe and the birthdayboy.

Tags: cinnamon rolls, cynthia barcomi, lecker

It happened, I just ’sploaded.

Too much cuteness.

Cannot compute…

I mean, the only thing better than Star Wars is when its galactical coolness is combined with kitty cuteness!

Hello Wars!

If they had one, I would buy a “Hello Leia” necklace in a new-york-minute. Without thinking twice.

But even that cuteness can’t be compared to the following.

It’s Jack-in-the-box! It stealthily collects your coins! It meows while doing so!

Oh boy. I mean, you know when my birthday is, right?

Tags: cute, jack, kawai, kitty

Judging by a paragraph of my latest thesis, written about the J.F.K. assassination and its Hollywood portrayal, I write like James Joyce.

Check this out to find out who you write like.

PS: Hubby writes like Steven King

Tags: literature

• You can easily get addicted to ice-cold Coca Cola, straight from the can.
• You should not order Pepsi.
• The sandwich does not come from Sandwich, but it’s a pretty little town.
• People from Sheffield are very friendly and generous, seem to be partial to German shepherds and make delicious meals. They think that everything is “luvely” and, in the case of Pete, look like my English professor.
• Sometimes the smallest campsites are the nicest, especially if they have a cat and a pond full of yapping carps.
• You should listen to the locals’ advice and visit the places they recommend. Would never have visited Robin Hood’s Bay or Portpatrick otherwise.
• Scots are outgoing, fun, hospitable and hard-drinking. Their accent is the best on the island.
• The places you visit by chance hide the most fun, this is especially true for Lanark, with its awesome people. And William Wallace married his Marion there, who knew?
• It is not fun to hear of a murderer on the loose and then find a lone stranger next to your spot on the campsite. Even more so if said stranger doesn’t have a tent with him…
• Do go off the road if you see an interesting thing in the landscape surrounding you. The pretty hill you saw could turn out to be Loudoun Hill, said to have witnessed William Wallace’s and Robert the Bruce’s battles.
• Do not, under any circumstances, trust a British’s estimation of time and distance. Everything is “just down the road”, “in walking distance” or will take “only 2 more minutes”. They lie. Those walks you were sure you could handle range from 40 minutes (one way) to two hours (there and back again). And I’m not even kidding. I wish I was.
• Cornish Pies aren’t yummi.
• Weston-Super-(Night-)Mare should be avoided at all cost. Sand Bay down the road, however, is pretty.
• Sometimes names can be misleading. “Maiden Castle” doesn’t boast any maidens, nor is there a castle. Only sheep.
• Land’s End is just that: the end of England’s land to the west.
• Parking is expensive, you have to “Pay and Display” everywhere. If you’re very lucky it’s 20 pence an hour, usually more like 1- 2 pounds.
• Food is equally expensive, two servings of fish and chips will cost you 15 to 18 pounds. WTF?
• Some people you might find out you still like, even if you haven’t seen them in 11 years.
• Visiting a great New Zealander who lives in Wimbledon with his nice Polish girlfriend and their little Maori warrior son is fun.
• A roadtrip is not a relaxing vacation and you’ll be glad once you’re home again. But you will love everything, at least in retrospect.

Tags: Britain, camping, Lanark, Portpatrick, travel

Sitting on the couch I was tiredly zapping away. Southpark? Zapp. Talkshow? Zapp. Landing on MTV I saw those two clowns, Joko and Claas, and was about to zapp on, but then my eyes fell on this lovely lady:

I’d love to say that her eyes fell onto mine, too, but this was TV, people!

I recognised her from seeing her video once on MTV, back then I had mistaken her for a Pop-Bimbo (though I liked her song). Oh, I was so wrong…

Her guitar guy started softly strumming his chords and I was hooked at her first words:

“handle bars, and I let go, let go of everyone “

and at

“Next thing we’re touching
You look at me it’s like you hit me with lightning”

goosebumps that felt like tiny pearls started rolling down my arms, feeling as though they might catapult off my arms any second just to ziggzagg across the room.

It was lovely, it was bliss, it totally got me starry eyed. Consider watching this video to see exactly what I saw. And per chance like it, too.

Tags: Ellie Goulding, Music, song, starry eyes, video

Damn you, Bakerella. Damn you and your deliciously witty blog posts about all things yummy. And for being the first blogerella to use that name and beating me to it.

See, the problem is: I love those cookie cutters. Adore them, even. Want them so much.

What I would give to push these little buggers into some dough

But I can’t, and it breaks my heart. First, we don’t have a Williams-Sonoma in Germany. Second, US $24,99 on ebay plus US $11,90 postage is simply too much for only cookie cutters.

But, as one thing leads to another, I found two other things I can’t afford because I don’t strictly need them:

4 words: Star Wars cookie jars. Hmmm.

Tags: cookie cutter, cookie jar, Star Wars

Here are ten reasons why I like our flat:

1. It is in Höhscheid, a kingdom secretly ruled by me. If Joey wins a ridiculously high amount of money in the lottery, he’ll buy it for me.
2. My favourite pizza place is within walking distance.
3. It is both near enough and far enough to both my grandparents, parents and brother & sister in law. As my gran would say “Near enough to walk, far enough to take a hat”. And we’re located snugly in the middle of nearly all our friends.
4. It has a big balcony with lots of trees to the left and a beautiful sundown to the right. Also: sun from 10 a.m. til it goes down. Nice!
5. It is a “Spar- und Bauverein” flat but not the average 3 room thing from the 50ies, but with a unique floor plan that I’ve loved since the moment I first stepped into it.
6. It is located on the 3rd and final floor, hence nobody is walking above us.
7. It has a small broom-closet of a room, which has a window, so Hubby can use it as an office. Now we basically have a 4-room flat
8. Whenever I sit in our dining-room area I can see both the Turmhotel and the Lutherkirche. Additionally, some basketball playing kids on our “own” court.
9. There’s a laundry in the cellar that’s big enough to actually dry the clothes of all tenants- not as at our old flat, where neighbors used to take of laundry that wasn’t theirs, even if it wasn’t dry yet, just so they could dry their own…
10. We’re allowed to have our kittehs here and in the year we’ve lived here we didn’t have any problems with the neighbors.. except for the one episode with the ugly pictures in the hallway- a whole ‘nother story.

All in all: it’s just awesome here! And the best thing: my Hubby is here with me, enjoying it like I do.

Tags: 10 reasons

While searching for campsites for our upcoming UK trip I was suddenly thrown into a philosophical contemplation:

Are we human?

I will have that song in my ears all day, I swear

I mean, are we? Am I? What attributes does one have to have to count as human? Generosity? Vulnerability? Empathy? Brainz? I could go on and on…

But I guess the guys from the Dunbar Camping and Caravanning Club didn’t have that in mind when they kindly asked me:

Are you?

Tags: human

My linguistic juices are really flowing today, so I present to you the second literal epiphany in 24 hours:

“Miraclewhip”!

Growing up in a German household I always asked for “Majonaise”, or if I used the brand name “Miraclewhip”. Only that it always sounded like “Mi-ra-kell-wipp”. Well, it took me 25 years to find out that it’s a miraculous creme made out of oil, vinegar or lemon juice that has been whipped to achieve its smooth consistency. D’oh!

Tags: language, miracle whip