Springli has Sprüngli

So, today I am sitting out on the terrace, in 18˚C!  Spring has definitely sprung and all of a sudden this country has shot up in my estimations.  Its like winter ends and the Swiss dust off the outdoor furniture, roll out the pretty awnings, take the lid off the lake, the rooves off their cars, the ski wear off themselves (finally!) and the whole place just feels a whole lot more cosmopolitan, holiday-like, glamorous and sparkly!  I love it - I had to stop myself donning my neon yellow string bikini today!  After all I am in the middle of the city, on a work day, in full view of a main road..... but if it gets any warmer and more summery than this it's only a matter of time! 

Being a cross-breed (and I am allowed to say that about myself before you get all PC on me!), I am blessed with a 'tan-switch' - at the first peek of sun, I just step outside and within an instant I am tanned.  This is good in some ways - no endless hours of sunbathing required.  However it can cause problems - today when I returned after a short trip outdoors to the grocery shop, I heard a noise as I was putting my key in the door, and turned round to find a crowd of the neighbours wondering what the strange Arabian woman was doing breaking into my house.  Once Mr Grübly had been called and I'd shown him my boobs he let me back in (its the only way he could recognise me you see, after the laundry room incident).  Don't get me wrong - it's not that there's no diversity here- just a lot less than in Streatham, so I am something of a minority, especially in my immediate neighbourhood!  It's fine with me - anything that helps me be the centre of attention is welcome! (cue neon yellow bikini).

Tonight I am going to a book club with some 'ladies'.  I say 'ladies' rather than girls because they all have husbands, big cars and children.  I have none of these things, but am working on all 3 (well, in a certain order anyway).   Does this mean I have been accepted into the elite group of the Swiss Expat Wives?  I believe it does!  This is cause for celebration.  I have never been to a book club before - I always thought they were just a front for women who wanted to get together and do tequila shots, play poker and get the Anne Summers lady round without their husbands knowing.  But I have been told that we are definitely going to talk about a book.  Maybe it's the Anne Summers catalogue....  either way, I am very excited as this really is a milestone.  Just short of 6 months in Switzerland and I am UP THERE with the creme de la creme.  I might wear my tiara.

This week we also decided to get a dog, which is fantastic as I am a big fan of canine company (you can tell them anything and they'll never ever utter a word of it to anyone!)  You can use them as a blankie, cushion or even a hanky when you're watching a weepie film...(ok did I say that out loud?)  The problem we have is that I would be happy with one of those dogs that most men think of as rodents - a chihuahua or a miniature pug or any little ball of fluff with a face.  I'd even have one of those mini teacup pigs!  (though I do worry that I'd come home drunk from the pub one night and eat it.  A bit of honey & mustard glaze on one of those babies, 30 minutes at 200˚C. mmmmmm.)  But of course we can't get a miniature dog as they aren't manly enough, nor can we get a big dog, or one that is too energetic as we don't have THAT much space.  So at the moment we have pretty much agreed that a Basset Hound would be the ideal, lazy, loveable, slightly stupid yet very cute pet.  It probably won't fit in my handbag (not all of them anyway), but I can live with that.  So our small family of two is soon to grow to 3, and I will no longer be the ditziest one of the lot (I hope!  Though I do have visions of Dan teaching the Basset Hound how to play FIFA on the PS3 get him a beer from the fridge.  I'll have to teach it how to pedicure...)

I've been so overwhelmed with the onset of spring, and being surrounded by Easter paraphernalia everywhere I look (the Swiss LOVE Easter!) that I actually ate a chocolate rabbit today.  This is VERY weird for me, as unlike most women I am not a fan of chocolate, at all.  However, living in the land of chocolate, having been given a chocolate rabbit as an Easter gift, trying to embrace my new found culture (and frankly being hormonal), I made a chocolate breakthrough today, and actually thoroughly enjoyed it.  However I am not going to get used to it, because if any of my other tastes are an indication, it would only be a matter of time before only the most expensive chocolate would do.  Considering a 10 inch high chocolate rabbit in Sprüngli costs 189 CHF, I think I'll steer clear of developing a new fetish...

On that note I need to cut this one short!  Or I'll be late for book club!  Til the next time homies. xxx

The finger and the pulse - an emotional reunion

In my previous existence I was something of an It Girl (that's It as opposed to IT btw...technology was never my strong point - see previous post).  I was always invited to the latest club openings, restaurants, parties and so on.  I would wear trends before they became trends, and was always well aware of the latest from the worlds of fashion, film, TV, media, entertainment and music.  I didn't really strive to achieve any of this - it just happened that my life was so entwined with the social scene, and because of my privileged job, I was professionally hooked up in the right circles too.  My generous salary allowed me to splurge on clothes, shoes, nights out, regular trips to glamorous destinations and every glossy magazine going.

Unfortunately my move to Switzerland and dramatic shift in demographic has meant the demise of my socialite status, and relegated me to someone that reads 6-month-old, German, second hand magazines in doctors' waiting rooms, hasn't bought a pair of shoes since last October (apart from a pair of very un-sexy, unfashionable 'comfy' boots to shield my once-weekly-pedicured feet from the Swiss elements)...  In short, my (once-weekly-manicured) finger has been rudely and dramatically torn from the pulse!  This has been a slow decline which I have thus far tried to ignore, but became glaringly obvious after it took 3 days for me to find out that Stephen Gately had died!  Previously I would have known he was going to die before even HE did!!  How could I have become so far removed?!!!

So, in order to combat this I have made it my mission to get back on the pulse (so to speak - sorry Stephen!).  This is not an easy task - living vicariously through websites, 2nd hand Grazia Magazines sent from my London friends, British TV ('enders doesn't exactly keep me up on date on fashion trends). There's no substitution for living, breathing and SPENDING in London.  However I made the unfortunate mistake of tuning into a TV programme about this year's Oscars fashion in a vain attempt to see what the Brits were wearing, and just to have a glimmer of that sparkly, red carpet feeling that I used to feel much closer to.  Needless to say apart from some 12 year olds from a dodgy vampire movie (you can't compete with the Lost Boys. RIP Corey) and Kate Winslet doing her annual "see, I don't always have to play the fat chick" speech there really weren't many Brits to catch up with, so instead I moved my focus to the Americans.  And OMG, let me tell you - 90210 has become my new WC1 - its all about Beverley Hills at the moment!  Who knew what a legend Jay Manuel is?  And who knew how quick and easy it is to get 450cc's of saline breast augmentation up through your belly button without so much as a pin prick in your boob area??!  Just ask Dr. Rey! This is all news to me and like a horrible car crash, or Joan Rivers' face, I can't tear my eyes away from it once I start watching.  The remedy?  Don't start watching.  Its a slippery slope and I came close to falling down it.  I rescued myself though, and have given myself a new project to run alongside my continuous job search and domestic goddess duties... its a secret though (mainly because if it all goes tits-up, crashes and burns, ends up being a flash in the pan... then you won't all be able to laugh at me.  Well you will, just not about this..) 

So, as I have banned myself from watching excessive amounts of Dr. 90210, Leave it to Lamas, Streets of Hollywood and so on... and I am restricted to only spending money on food and basic survival goods (like hairspray), and as I am unable to live in the circles that I once did, I have decided to share some of my innermost secrets with you on how you can live like an It Girl even if you are a poor, unemployed, out of touch nobody like moi....

1) Lip fillers:  You don't need collagen injections to achieve an Angelina pout!  My tip is this: over the course of the day, peel away a whole layer of skin from your lips (sometimes this is done voluntarily, other times it just comes naturally as you are rocking in frustration in front of your laptop searching even the armpits of the job market for some way to earn money)... and once you have a set of almost-bleeding, red raw lips just rub half a chilli over them.  They will swell up to at least double the size in seconds.  Slap on a layer of gloss (or if you can't afford it just stick your finger in some vegetable oil) and Bob ist dein onkel!

2) Hair extensions:  Upon close analysis of anyone with hair extensions, I have discovered that they really do just look like scraggy, untrimmed tendrils of matted hair.  Therefore the solution is simple -  just grow your own hair, don't wash or brush it for a few days and there you go!  And no ladies, I don't mean your armpits, eyebrows and moustaches ... just your head hair.  Unless you want to go for the Salma Hayek look in the film about Frida Kahlo...  As far as I am concerned there is no excuse for any woman, no matter how poor and destitute, to have any hair below the eyebrows unless it is virtually invisible or expertly 'topiarised' into a presentable fashion.   This is perfectly achievable and if you need instructions there are plenty of 'how to' guides on t'internet.

3) Parties and networking: Ok this one is easy - an It Girl is someone who looks, acts, walks and talks like an It Girl - nothing else!  No one needs to know that you spend most of your time in a tracksuit, shopping in Aldi, dodging the bus ticket inspectors & drinking Lambrini out of champagne glasses in your own time.... Appearance and demeanour is everything - and before you all laugh when I (of all people) say 'demeanour' just remember this:  When I was carried out of a party in a fireman's lift after drinking far too much champagne and literally jetting in just for that one night in the middle of 2 weeks on my feet with virtually no sleep, working between Germany, Switzerland and Israel, only to be SNEERED at by a (clearly NON It) girl, a good friend of mine (who was, is and will ALWAYS be an It Girl) told me "sweetie, that's the ONLY way to leave a party"...  I stand by that.  The fact that my fiance is actually a part-time fireman also means I can keep him in rescue-practice.  Therefore I am actually helping save lives.....!  Yay me!

4) Fashion:  I arrived in Switzerland in October - the beginning of winter.  Until now it has just been winter, winter and more winter.  This, combined with lack of finances, has not been conducive to me looking my best.  For the first time in my life I found myself opting for comfort and warmth over glamour and trend.  It has been a struggle.  I always imagined that if I was ever to 'hit the slopes' (that's a term that is quite literal in my case - I hit the slopes alright... face first!...) then I would be kitted out in a glamorous ensemble from Chanel.  In reality I ended up in shapeless age 13 boyswear from TK Maxx, a nerdy helmet and some special 'all weather' goggles.  Combine this with a frozen, red face and a permanent expression of fear - the whole get-up resulted in me looking like I'd just been shot out of a cannon in some bizarre circus stunt staged to amuse the designer-clad ski-bunnies of Switzerland.  I cannot tell you how pleased I am that spring seems to have arrived.  An It Girl only really requires a few staple items in order to maintain their look - a pair of Louboutin heels is a must, and mine are being dusted off as we speak.  Add to those a pair of oversized Fendi shades, an upside-down-head, volume-inducing blowdry, lashings of lipgloss and a bit of bling, and I'm back in the game!  Goodbye helmet-hair, goodbye 'comfy' shoes, goodbye hideous, freezing weather.

5) ...and finally:  Giving back to the community:  It is very important for It Girls to display a level of social responsibility.  I have pondered long and hard as to how I will do this as I have decided it is an absolute must in order for me to reclaim my It Girl tiara... and helping save lives by keeping my fiance in fireman's lift practice isn't really good enough.  Despite recycling my rubbish religiously I can't really claim to be doing an awful lot of good for the environment as I probably created the hole in the ozone layer singlehandedly through around 20 years worth of excessive hairspray usage.  I don't currently contribute financially to any charities (I can't!  I am too poor!  I AM a charity!).  So I am currently in search of a worthy way in which to give something back - all suggestions are welcome!  Answers on a postcard, or actually just post a comment.  Thanks!

Frugal, Google and Poo(gle)

My laptop has been playing up recently, and I have learned from my technologically knowledegable boyfriend that rather than calling it names, pleading with it (sometimes with tears) or stomping off in a mood whilst telling it to 'talk to the hand' in the hope that it will sort itself out, it is advisable to Google the problem as a question, and invariably there'll be a million other people in the virtual world that have encountered a similar problem and have had the decency (or absence of life) to put up their findings on t'internet.  

Now, in the past, as with most of my belongings, if it was playing-up, worn-down, broken, no longer matched an outfit, was off-trend or I was simply having a bad day I would have probably just bought a new one.  However in my current socio-economic status of UNICORN (Unemployed Nobody In Country Of Rich Nerds) I have had to be a little bit more frugal and attempt to find solutions to broken goods (or wear last season's clothing).  So, in my new found role of 'Technological Troubleshooter' I decided to google 'why does my laptop make a noise like an pneumatic drill every time I open Facebook, E! Entertainment Online or any online shopping site?' (hmmmm, had I been a cynic I may have thought, just for one fleeting moment, that my aforementioned technologically advanced BF was responsible for this laptop demise by embarking on a cunning plan to kill three birds with one stone..... I can almost hear his thought process now.....): "Raa haa haaaaa... with this plan I can a) prohibit my chick from bankrupting us by online shopping as she thinks that if her credit card doesn't actually leave the house it doesn't actually constitute 'shopping' b) prevent her from turning into a mindnumbingly dull 'hausfrau' with no brain-food other than the latest gossip from the world of Kendra or The Kardashians, and c) give her a lesson in technology, whilst also keeping her amused for hours at a time whilst she painstakingly trawls the internet for solutions to problems that can easily (and only) be fixed if I just replace this little 'bimbo-chip' in her laptop...."  But of course, he would never do such a thing!

Anyway - after cranking up the giant drill I opened Google and started to type in 'why does my....' at which point Google (as it does) brought up a list of things that it thought I was going to ask - (and despite my technological retardedness I do believe these things are the most frequently searched questions) to find that the things people really want to know are (and seriously, try it if you don't believe me)...
Why does my belly button smell?
Why does my cat lick me?
Why does my eye twitch?
Why does my dog eat poo?
I'm really hoping that it isn't just one poor, unfortunate soul that is asking all of the above questions....

Anyway - so here I am, a mere three words into my technology project and I have already found myself a new one!  Discovering the weirdest things that people google every day!  I decided that if I found so many funny things just from the words 'why does my...?' then there must be even more if I typed in 'why am I..?' or simply 'why...?':  Sure enough - I was faced with:
Why am I so ugly?
Why am I still single? (surely one doesn't need to look up both of the above...?)
Why do men have nipples?
Why is my poo black?

THEN I decided to move onto Google Images and go through every letter of the alphabet to see what came up as the most sought after images just from that single letter.  My discovery included a lot of the predictable things - A: Angelina Jolie, B: Beyonce, Breasts, C: Cheryl Cole, Cristiano Ronaldo... However I did discover a few interesting things....: P: Poo, U: Ugly people, Y: Yoda.... Why do people want pictures of these things???  Actually I don't really want to know.  However it is blatantly apparent that the UK is obsessed with poo, disgusting ailments and being ugly!  Lovely!

This did prompt me to pose a question (to myself - there's no one else here to ask)...
Do people in all countries ask the same questions?  I had my suspicions that they wouldn't.  After all, we Brits seem to be unhealthily obsessed with our looks, bodily functions and diets despite being a nation that eats too much, doesn't exercise enough, doesn't consume the right foods and so on.  You only have to look at all of those British TV programmes like Fat Club, You Are What You Eat (where that Scottish gremlin woman visits people who live on crisps and beer 24/7 and then acts surprised when their poo resembles a Heineken-soaked pork scratching), Embarrassing Bodies (the one where a bunch of GPs trawl regional England in search of people with disgusting ailments and conditions, who are too embarrassed to go to their local GP but more than happy to unleash their scabby, itchy, weeping parts on national TV to a doctor that everyone else seems to think is a heart-throb but I think looks like the guy Eric Stoltz plays in the film Mask where he has that weird disease that makes his head grow deformed and he is looked after by his 'normal-headed' mum who is ironically played by Cher....)

So anyway I decided to start my research with the obvious - Switzerland.  Are people in Switzerland obsessed with ugliness, gross conditions and poo as much as English people?  Well, in order to start this project the first task was to ascertain the words for 'poo' and 'ugly', as well as 'why am I' and 'why does my' in German (and Swiss German perhaps?) and then log onto Google.ch and give it a go.... 

I approached Dan with my questions.  He doesn't even bat an eyelid anymore when I randomly ask him questions like "how do you say 'poo', 'ugly' and 'why am I...?' in German".  He just gives me the answer, and nowadays even volunteers a little bit extra.  For example he told me the word for poo is Kacke (haha!), but then went on to informed me that there was a phrase in German used in the same way as we would say 'the shit will hit the fan' which is 'die Kacke ist am dampfen' which literally means 'the poo is steaming'.  Thanks darling!

Anyway, I did my research and actually the main questions that the Swiss & Germans have are
Why am I so dumb?
Why am I so unpopular?
but ALSO... Why am I so ugly? 
However there was very little in the way of poo or other bodily functions, so I figure the reserved nature of the Swiss & Germans hereby is proven via my own personal study of what they search for online.  I wonder how they do find the answers to Smelly-Belly syndrome then....?

Anyway, it has been a very scientific and worthwhile study if I do say so myself.  I am somewhat concerned about the obsession with ugliness that everyone seems to have.  Granted, there are some among us that are less easy on the eye than others, but to actually seek out the reason why on the internet?  I just hope some of these poor souls find the answers they are looking for.  Anyway, next up, top search topics from Outer Mongolia....(why does my Yak malt?  How do I knit a jumper out of my wife's hair?  Can Dr 90210 give me Genghis Khan cheekbones?).... only joking - I'm over this subject already....

Happy searching!