Maybe I'll throw in a unicorn, just for the fun of it.

Do you have those days when you feel as if you didn't really exist because your phone seems sort of dead and the best social interaction you have is ordering coffee at Starbucks?
Monday was such a day for me. I had to work on a boring spreadsheet all day. I was terrified because the feedback for my essay was waiting at uni for me. My first King's essay, oh excuse me, "Critical Commentary". What the eff is a "Critical Commentary" anyway, and if you don't know what it is, how are you supposed to write one? Maximum anxiety level. When I got home I ended up watching tons of Nigella , and it made me feel even worse. I want her hair. I want her cooking skills. In order to have at least something in common with her (the hips), I ate all of the chocolates in my advent calendar.Children, do not try this at home, it sucks and you'll have no chocolate until Christmas.
At this point you are probably asking yourself, and rightly so, why I am writing this. Didn't I promise some weeks ago I'll write only happy things? Also, you only came here because of the competition, and now I am going on about eating chocolate instead of giving you some (chocolate). TTSSSSSSK. WELL... If you never lose, how you gonna know when you won?
If it's never dark, how you gonna know the sun when it shines...  These are the words of a gorgeous young popstar wise old man.
And they do not only make an awesome song, they are true as well. Apparently, karma wanted to make things up to me, and I got all sorts of sweet messages and texts the next day, even from people I had no idea they had an idea that I exist.
I also met up with Rachel, I really nice girl from my course who shared a peanut butter cupcake with me. That made me really happy.

Rachel kindly explained the British marking system to me, because even though I had collected my essay, I had no clue what my mark meant. As it turned out, the essay went down rather well, which astonished both me and my tutor (I wish I was exaggerating here, but I am not. He was even more surprised at my grade than I was). I feel really relieved, because I was worried I would do much worse here at Uni than back home in Switzerland.. But it turns out I can keep doing what I enjoy doing, so it's all good, kids. The topics for my two forthcoming essays were approved this week as well, and in case you are a nerdy person like me who is interested in English Lit essays, they are:

- Mary Poppins, Myths and London (or something like that - but I AM WRITING ABOUT MARY POPPINS. YAY. AND LONDON. MAYBE I'LL THROW IN A UNICORN JUST FOR THE FUN OF IT).
- Queerness in Katherine Mansfield's short stories.

The latter, no doubt, will add to the "queer" impression some of the people here seem to have of me. Several times I was asked in either a pushy or nervous tone whether "all that stuff on my facebook" is true.

How can this be my son??










Oh wait, but that wasn't what you ACTUALLY wanted to know,right? No, I am not married to Isa. But she's all sorts of awesome. If that didn't answer your question: The last person I had (have?) a bit of a crush on has better makeup skills than I have, And you know, my makeup skills are even more accomplished than my profound knowledge about the members of take that. So what does that make me? I think it makes me really  cool, HA. And if you don't think so, why not go and read another blog instead? Joy the baker is really good!

So, what I meant to say with all this rambling gibbberish is: Everyone has horrible days. It happens. Don't watch Nigella. Just read a good book and go to bed. What's good about horrible days is that they are usually followed by awesome days.
I would like to make your day more awesome, especially after  you went through all the trouble reading my rambling gibberish. The first person who can spot me in this video will get a Christmas surprise. By post. Just comment here, you don't need a blogger account to do it. Because if you never win, how you gonna know when you won?
MERRY CHRISTMAS.

How my faith in humanity has been restored by Ricky, the taxi driver

I usually don't mind London buses.. I guess the tube would be faster, but it's about 90% inacessible for me, so I don't really bother with the remaining 10%. But this Tuesday, I had absurd bad luck with the buses..In the morning I had an appointment at the hairdressers and was 20 minutes late because of the ramp of the bus not working - the bus driver tried 2 or 3 times, but then just drove off.
After I had my hair done (I quite like it, though it's more reddish than orange, again - I wonder if I will ever achieve really orange hair - it's one of my life goals) I had a seminar at the Museum of London. And again, the ramp of the bus (a different route and everything) didn't bloody work. But then something AMAZING happened. There was a black cab behind the bus, and the taxi driver got out of the cab and asked me where I wanted to go - and then he offered to take me to the Museum, for free. Just because I had the same haircolour as his daughter - apparently she's 13 and had it dyed because she's really into Florence and the Machine. How adorable is that? Honestly, being a redhead rules. You get free taxi rides and get on time to classes and everything.

Also, I need to show you some of the ridiculously gorgeous people I went to see Patrick Wolf with this week:
Roy and me in Cardiff (yes he is wearing blue lipstick, which somehow makes his eyes sparkle. He even wore the blue lipstick when we went out for pizza the night before, because he is super cool like that):

Aaaand Elissa and me in London. We also went with Jenny and Finn, but they are not pictured, because that would be too many pretty people in one blog entry. You'd just ignore the writing and stare at the pictures.I can't let that happen. I know Elissa from Creative Writing Society at Uni. She's totally cool and awesome, and her prettiness makes people give us free carrot sticks:

You might have noticed that Roy is featured in pretty much every blog. That is because he is crucial to my happiness.
That's all.