I don't know where my towel is.

[oloriel]

Oh NO! It's Towel Day and no one tells me until too late? Doom on you!

Must go in search of my favorite childhood towel now, since it's the only one that has taken residence in the WG in Cologne where I am right now. I usually use it to wrap my Shinai in it, so it'll probably smell of wet bamboo and balistol, but oh well. [Yes, I know, wrapping your sky-blue, flowery-stitched favorite childhood towel that once had a name, personality and the ability to talk around your Shinai is a bad thing to do.]

In other news, Literature was spectacularily boring today. Discussion about the term papers. People had the brilliant idea that they don't get problems with translations from German to English when they read the secondary texts in English right away. Wow. Brilliant, really. And the far-from-reality examples from one of the elder students who talked as coherently as Edmund Stoiber were hard to bear open-eyed.

Some bastards felled the maple and the elder tree in the backyard of the WG. A plague on all their houses, whoever they may be. Bad enough that my parents thought they had to fell two perfectly nice and strong and beautiful trees at our garden to give another weakly and ugly tree a chance to grow; but felling two strong and beautiful and fragrant trees to make room for parking spaces is beyond the beyonds. There is no curse in Elvish, Entish or the tongues of Men...

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Oh NEIN! Es ist Towel Day und keiner sagt mir Bescheid, bevor es schon fast zu spät ist? Dann sollt ihr verdammt sein!

Jetzt muss ich mein Kindheits-Lieblingshandtuch suchen, weil es das einzige ist, das sich in dieser WG hier befindet, wo ich gerade rumsitze. Normalerweise wickle ich mein Shinai darin ein, also riecht es jetzt vermutlich nach nasssem Bambus und Waffenöl, aber naja. [Ja, ich weiß, sein himmelblaues, blumenbesticktes Kindheits-Lieblingshandtuch, das mal einen Namen, eine Persönlichkeit und eine Stimme besaß, wickelt man nicht um sein Shinai. Schändlich.]

Außerdem war Literaturwissenschaft gerade außerordentlich langweilig. Es ging um die Hausarbeiten. Schließlich kam man auf die brilliante Idee, dass man keine Schwierigkeiten mit Übersetzungen vom Deutschen ins Englische hat, wenn man die Sekundärtexte gleich auf Englisch ist. Wow. Echt brilliant. Und die an den Haaren herbeigezogenen Präzedenz- und Sonderfälle eines Seniorenstudenten mit dem Sprachfluss von Edmund Stoiber waren kaum wachen Gemüts zu ertragen.

Irgendwelche Arschlöcher haben den Holunder und den Ahornbaum im Hinterhof gefällt. Die Pest auf alle ihre Häuser, wer auch immer sie sein mögen. Schlimm genug, dass meine Eltern meinten, zwei nette und kräftige und schöne Bäume in unserem Garten fällen zu müssen, weil sie angeblich einem anderen schwachen, krüppeligen Baum das Wasser abgesaugt haben; aber zwei schöne und kräftige und duftende Bäume zu fällen, um Platz für Parkplätze zu schaffen, ist tiefer als tief. Es gibt keinen Fluch in Elbisch, Entisch oder den Sprachen der Menschen...


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Comments

[elenbarathi.livejournal.com]

*sheepish look* I only just found out about it last night myself; sorry!

"Yes, I know, wrapping your sky-blue, flowery-stitched favorite childhood towel that once had a name, personality and the ability to talk around your Shinai is a bad thing to do"

On the contrary, I think it is a beautiful and poetic thing to do, very much in keeping with Zen spirit on a whole lot of levels.

I'm so sorry about your trees. *soft hugs* The Sindarin word for tree-killer is orndagnir, if that's any help - probably not much, I realize.

[ninquelote.livejournal.com]

Some bastards felled the maple and the elder tree in the backyard of the WG. A plague on all their houses, whoever they may be.

Rarrgh.

Just a few weeks ago we woke up-- having slept till afternoon-- stepped outside on the balcony of the apartment, and found that the "maintenence" crew had cut down all the evergreen trees that were planted at intervals along the side of the building. "They were damaging the building," one of them said.

Oh I see. So why not just -trim them back- instead of cut the whole thing down? That's like removing an arm to cure a broken bone.

What made it worse was that there were birds living in the trees-- just little sparrows, whole families of them. We used to be able to sit out on the balcony of the apartment and watch them flitting back and forth and flying in and out of the trees. Now it's silent, and I don't know where the birds went. They must have found new homes, somehow. They had to go somewhere.

There wasn't much I could do, but later on that night, ^Ruka and I went out and poured a pot full of old scummy water all over their truck. It was the best we could do. :b