ALCOHOL

"You know how it is, life is a sinusoid, you can't do anything about it." - a wise piece of advice from Mum the mathematician.

Oh I can Mum, I can.

If you are a normal person that rarely drinks and has a fulfilled happy life, move on now. Or stay and bathe in the notion that you are not as fucked up as others.

I started drinking when I was 15, like most Croatians do. We'd all say we were having a sleepover at a friend's place whose mum was working night shifts (or didn't care much about us drinking in the first place). The only rule was that I always had to be home very early in the morning, which meant sleeping two hours and feeling sick after drinking the shittiest wine there is (parents would give us money to buy a Coke and we needed to buy cigarettes and wine, tough deal). My mum started climbing mountains at that point too (completely understandable), which meant I, the second woman in the house, had to clean fish every morning for Saturday lunch. Now I think it might have just been a punishment from Father who realised I'm drinking (how could you not) and instead of discussing it (we don't do that) or forbidding it (even worse), came up with this brilliant plan to hate alcohol (and life) Saturday mornings.

It didn't help. We continued. Because that's what you do when you are a teenager. We'd drink wine and eat candies (cause the wine taste was unbearable), sing or more precisely scream while somebody was playing a guitar and just be the usual obnoxious drunk kids in the yard of a kinder garden (no idea). There was nothing more fun or liberating than screaming to Janis Joplin or Creep from Radiohead. All the pressure from school, all the boys that didn't like you, all the people that were (later you realise) assholes to you, all the people you were (later you realise) an asshole to, all the horrible things your parents and teachers did, all the hormones fucking up your body and your mind, all the cruel world out there would for a moment disappear with the line What the heeeeell am I doing hereeeeeee? I don't belong here. AAAAAAA AAAAAAA Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeee's running out she ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuns sheeeeeeee's running out she runs RUNS RUNS RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNS RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNS.

It was also the way to meet boys. Cause boys drank too.

It was fun. It was liberating, It was numbing.

17 years later, it still is. Because that's what you do. That's what some of us do.

You had a good day, you celebrate. You want to meet friends, you go to a bar. You want to meet men, you go to a bar. You had a bad day, you DRINK. All the pressure from work, all the stupid conversations, all the people that didn't like you (plus all the Mistakes when you were drunk last times), all the people that were assholes to you, all the expectations to deal with, all the relationshit, all the things you want to do but you don't, all the happy other people you see on facebook, all the misunderstandings you had, all the chances you didn't take, every conversation you infinitely repeated in your head and every single mistake you have ever done and every stupid thing that you have ever said, and all the bad news, and all horrible things humanity is doing, and all the stupid things people on public transport say - go away with that beer.

And get killed with that shot.

You know the movie The Fifth Element? (you should) So you know the scene where Leeloo (the fifth element) learns about humanity by watching videos of human present and history? And then she cries, crashes, gives up and "dies" cause there is nothing worth fighting for? You see, at that moment, I drink. Maybe it's a matter of knowing for a fact that there is no Bruce Willis out there who'll save me. And a feminist in me (born and bred in Berlin) would say I don't need someone to save me and the hippy in me would say love comes from within yourself (the simple truth is there is no fucking Bruce Willis and if there is I bet he's drinking in the bar too).

What's even worse, it's fun, The best encounters and conversations I had in my life were over a drink (did I have any else?). The life-changing decisions were made over a drink (or a hangover). The most valuable lessons I learned in life no school ever provided me with. It was people when I travelled and people when I drank. As my friend put it the other day when I got upset about how much we all (I) drink - Marijana, in my experience, all the best people do.

And my friends drink too. One of them (that doesn't drink) once told me that it's not my friends, it's just people that drink with me and there is no love there. One of my closest friends here was also my drinking buddy most often. It was our thing, we go to a bar, we sit at the counter and we drink beer, and have shots and talk the whole night and last half an hour tell each other how much we love each other and hug the whole time. That's about 6am. Or sometimes I yell at him because I get angry if I drink whiskey shots. And then at some point we saw each other over a coffee during a day and I said to him Oh, did you colour your tattoo? And he said, Marijana, it was always in colour. Oh...
So this friendship sounds superficial and uncaring but it wasn't at all. I love him to pieces and he broke my heart when he left Berlin. I mean how much you talk when you are drunk and what people find out about you and what you find out about other people? All hell breaks lose sometimes. And that's what connects you. And shit doesn't happen over salads.

I had this amazing idea of a Sober October. After two weeks, I realised nothing much has changed except I hated people. I HATED PEOPLE. And I always claimed to be the one that loves everybody and accepts everybody or at least tolerates everybody. Hated it. So I thought, of course, IT'S BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN F***ING DRINKING THAT LAST 17 YEARS. Maybe I should just go away and live in my vineyard with a few people around who would hate me anyway because I wouldn't go to church on Sundays.

But then again, I work in bars, 5-6 days a week. There is nothing worse than being sober with drunk people. Not even the most loving person can deal with that, unless he's brain dead. Or Australian.
How do you cope with people? So Sober October turned into Almost Sober October and it went unexceptionally well. It didn't even make me proud.

And then there are men. Of course there are. Cause where do you find them? In a bar. Where do you meet men? Sometimes in a bar, rarely through friends and really rarely anywhere else (tinder and other online dating escapades deserve a whole other post). The amount of women drinking only to meet men and vice versa is ridiculous. AND YOU DON'T REALLY GET TO MEET THEM ANYWAY. You are all drinking at the same place for a while, maybe you see someone you like, maybe you look at him for a while and then YOU NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN. Because nobody ever did anything about it. Or at least very rarely. You'd think since it's (one of) the main preoccupations of most people (in all the ways, sex, partnership, love, ego, reproduction, something to tell your friends about) we'd do a bit more about it? No (unless you go to a hook-up bar, you know, the place with a lot of tourists and the smell of chlamydia). Instead we drink. Sometimes we talk to them when we drink. Our imagination fuels up, we think it's going great. The next day we realise it didn't.
It's also probably the lack of a partner, couples don't drink right? They say the whole world lights up and all the colours are stronger when you're in love. Sounds very much like that forth shot I have.

The only times I drink much less is when I'm travelling (my friends would probably laugh now, those times were exceptions!). I'm amazed by everything, there is so much input every day, I meet people the whole time (and I find men out of bars too). So here you have it - distraction, no boredom, happiness, men. Not particularly in that order. The key to soberness. Fucking easy. Just sort out your life from top to bottom and you'll get there.

Oh where art thou Bruce?
There's a bomb to diffuse
And it's right here in my liver
My life's gone down the river
My hangovers last for days
I think it's the final phase
There will be an intervention
My friends with best intention
They'll force me to be sober
Not only in damn October
I'll never have sex again
Cause where would I meet men
I'll become an old lady
Whose face is all shady
Vagina full with bats
But she has a lot of cats.
Please save me oh Bruce
you have no excuse
I'll sleep with you every day
I hope you are not gay
I'll be forever batshit crazy
Bruce don't be lazy
Without you there's no answer
I'll probably get cancer
I'll be covered in bugs
Maybe the solution is drugs?

Till the next hangover. Have some goals in life:

What are you working ON?

"Concepts and open relationships" That's the thing.

Spring is here. And so are people. Spaeti-s are full, bicycles are out and so is the flesh. Hipsters still wear their black beanies but decorate their bicycles with an occasional flower. Spring is here. Too many events to handle, people smiling on the streets, okcupid lost its winter customers.

I'm excited, and so are they. In just few weeks, I met too many people to remember (yeah, sure, alcohol helps). But my phone book does. And one day when winter comes again, I can go through it and think is it ok to call people for a beerchen after 6 months, then, when I need people again. For now, it seems just too difficult to take a phone and arrange a meeting when you can just go out and - Meet People.

So the other day, my New Friend That I Met When Spring Started and me went out chatting with one big group in front of the bar to another in front of a different bar. We see each other often cause we don't need to arrange appointments. We both hang in my bar. I know if I go there, I'll see her. And then we do stuff. Like meeting people, which we both have passion about. It was a great deal, you take a shot and you can win a free tattoo from a tattoo artist from Mexico, who the welcome party was for. I didn't win the tattoo but I could also drink beers from Spaeti and Mexicanas were nice. Oh joy, oh happiness. I also met a girl that got a tattoo from the same guy and it was misspelled.

I met a guy there. Not a Guy guy, but Just a guy. After an introductory conversation about which tobacco is better (smokers have much better social life on account of these exchanges), he asked where am I from. The usual first question. Croatia. I've heard Croatia is beautiful. It is. But a bit boring? It is. And where are you from? I'm German Greek. OK. (I wasn't really sure would my stereotypes humour go well with a German Greek (the German side, the German side). And then What are you working on? Sorry? What are you working ON? Errrrr...errrrr...Nothing? 

I started laughing (as I usually do), maybe a moment too long, maybe a level too loud (as I usually do) and realised the guy is looking at me, with an expression too WTF (as men usually do). So I explained I actually never got this question and wasn't prepared for it. As a person that doesn't really know what she is doing, where she is going and can't give any answers to the Why questions, the only possible solution was Nothing. The guy explained he really hates What are you doing? question. I agreed. There is nothing more boring than What are you doing? But I do understand it's just a tiny effort to get to know people, to put them in a little box which we are familiar with. I want to know Who you are so I ask What do you do. The guy explained further how you end up with much better topics and it doesn't have to mean you are working on something grand but it can be as simple as I am working on my diet for the summer. And you see, with you it worked well also, it obviously hit deep. (true that)

Could this question pass somewhere else? What are you working on? I work in an internet cafe. You come, only 2 dollars hour, just for you, my friend. No, no, no, but what are you reaaally working on? Ah, you mean what am I reeeally working on! Oh, you know, the usual, getting money to feed my family and one day having a big house and buy my wife a nice dress and pay for education of my children so one day they can be bankers and live in America.  America is good. Translation to Croatian just sounds plain silly. If I asked somebody Na cemu radis trenutno? (followed by that meaningful, interested face expression), they would send me to Picka Materina.

It is fairly true that a lot of people in Berlin are actively working on something. Just look at okcupid. Every guy is making music, doing graphic art or fighting for asylum seekers rights. They also grow bio gardens and doing researches (like my flatmate does, it's called Pinterest). Sports are good also. But not any kind of sport, do skating, or bouldering or windsurfing. Combine all of that mentioned above and you get Tempelhof. Some of them actually do, a lot of them I suspect don't, but vast majority does more than I have noticed in other places I travelled or lived in. Kudos for that. We don't allow time wasters here. While in Croatia you would be asked for your job (which shows your salary which shows how "important" you are on a universe scale), here the question itself is about the very meaning (tell me about life and what's in it for you?) and the currency is not money or reputation but - Time. Are you spending your time in a meaningful way? What are you working on? (or well, maybe I am completely wrong)

My flatmate swears there are Average Joes out there and it's a matter of our neighbourhood, not Berlin. Another friend that lives elsewhere (after I excitedly said how many people were on the streets the other day due to spring) said excitedly Oh, in my neighbourhood as well! They were protesting! Protesting against what? Against asylum seekers. You mean FOR asylum seekers? No, AGAINST asylum seekers. Neukolln, I do love you.

And all this does affect you. The same as Boobs and Butts on every billboard in Croatia. You kind of want to show yours after a while. But only after you bought creams and gels and tried a few different diets. And after all bought dozens of dresses and big cleavage shirts and high heals that magazines tell you to buy. And make up. Doing it before is against human right to look only at socially accepted beautiful stuff. You shouldn't do that.

Here you always meet People doing stuff or overhear conversations of Doing stuff and Having projects. Like today in the coffee shop. Two artists discussing about another artist's art:

social growing culture, the translation of idea negates itself, I don't want to be conceptual, global citizen - it's the concept, we need crisis to bring our art together, discursive rituals, delusion, she is too neoliberal, a bit shredded, she is not a global citizen, she is just afraid, people cant see they own inconsistency. yes, they should be ripped to pieces, we all should in order to create, i just have a few paintings. that's good, anything more than that is massive production. which is bad, the only thing that is bad is murder. nothing else is bad, fight our world's imaginative narratives, you're such a kill joy for me, it's counterproductive, its kind of like being a nazi, there is a fundamental error in calling it a global workshop. its just going to be a neoliberal thing. 

Till the guy stormed off yelling: Can we drop this whole thing, I'm leaving to make some art!!
They don't know what global even means!!

I was really into the discussion although being a little village redneck (Why would I drink tea, I'm not sick), I understood their points only half way. But it was fun. Like watching a movie kind of fun. And then (back to reality) another conversation took over in Croatian by a couple sitting next to me:

You have a pregnant wife and you want another?? And she loves you and is having your baby???  
I started laughing my ass off. The guy got embarrassed and the woman laughed with me and started pushing that conversation even more. They were leaving after a minute, I guess trying to get away from this random audience. (I learnt my lesson with speaking Croatian thinking no one understands when after a few hours of drunk talk with my girlfriends about guys and sex, very much in detail, a guy sitting next to us at the bar asked I, odakle ste cure? So, where are you from girls?) While they were leaving, the woman started talking to me, another typical I would say (after I travelled extensively around Balkans) - Where are you from, do you have a husband? I answered yes (usually the best answer to that question, after you hitchhiked extensively around Balkans). The woman asked if it is nice, I said yes. She said she is happy for me. Then she whispered Men are pigs. I whispered back I agree (another thing you notice after travelling extensively...just a joke). She turned to the guy and said to him You like pretty eyes, she has very pretty eyes, do you want her? The guy said No, I want only you. They left. I'd guess somewhere where the wife Isn't.

You see, there seems to be so many options around here. Options to create, options to socialise, options to work, options to call yourself an artist and options for open relationships (with or without your partner's consent). One day I overheard two girls- You know, he wants to try monogamy. I think I'm not ready for it. It's just so...restrictive and old-fashioned. Well, in Berlin, I bet it is.

There is just so many options. So you start doing things (and doing people). Or at least thinking about what (who) can you do. For example my flatmate bought a mattress for exercise, special pants and sneakers. She never exercised but she did something. I'll make poi socks and I ordered a hula hoop. The other day I exercised, I ran (although I swore a long time ago I will never do it in my life), I hiked, cycled for 75km to eat freshly picked asparagus (although I would blame it on living with a German), painted a tiny bit and wrote dozens of times. That never happened before. Or it did but not for a long time (basically since I discovered Beer). So I can at least say that I am working on working on something. I try. That's what can be written on my tombstone - She tried. (That's what she was working on.)  

Going back to the guy. After he explained his theory, I managed to find some kind of true answer: I am working on living in a country where I don't understand the language. What do you mean? I just don't like understanding people on the street, coffee shops and worse of all public transport and queues. It makes me angry and sad. And like this I choose conversations I want to be a part of. It's a much nicer world. My bubble.

The guy said he likes me and asked for my number.




He never called though.
(Maybe in winter)

   
"It may look as if I'm seeking something; but I am seeking nothing" P. Baroja

Unless it's the asparagus season

Do you want to play?

Hello, my name is Marijana. What's your name? 

Hello, my name is Marijana and I just turned 31. I live in Berlin, a city of lakes and parks, street festivals and unusal events, music and art, fetishes and political correctness, cool people and not getting into clubs for the lack of cool, strange contraptions on the road and strange contraptions on people, tall men and beautiful women, bio organic free range vegan upcycling recycling cycling people, a city where snail races are cancelled due to animal cruelty demonstrations, where men pee sitting, where in 3 months I had more documents then in the last 5 years and where smoking protests are being held against lowering amount of weed one can have in a park as a solidarity to refugees (well, it's actual).

My neighbourhood is half hipster and half Turkish. Or as my Mum said on the train approaching there - you can notice we are closer to home by so many more beards and black beanies.

 My Mum came to visit me for the first time I've lived abroad. Cause Germany is a visit-able country. And it was a nice time apart from the ridiculous mind-fuck weather. I suggested going to DDR museum and showed her photos and she said Why would I want to go there, I lived that. I heard a lot of stories from her life in the 80s, running to the queue-not-knowing-what-is-it-for-but-it-must-be-for-something-important, fighting to get a washing machine and having electric cuts based on the day in the week. (Have we ever talked before?) I explained to her that I still like men (after she saw a sign in my bedroom When did you decide to be a heterosexual? and a gay flag) and to confirm it told her a story how I got drunk the other day and behaved idiotic to a guy that I didn't like anymore (which means I liked him before so the story made sense).

Mum reminded me of a story when I was little how I wanted to go and play in the park but I didn't know any kids there. She said  I just have to go and say: Hello, My name is Marijana. What is your name? Do you want to play with me? I followed the advice for years which caused a lot of (later realised) embarrassment and people thinking I'm crazy (or at least a little retarded). Because you don't do that, do you? We laughed about the story. We went silent. Mum looked at me and said: Well, nothing much has changed, has it? No, Mum, it hasn't.

*A friend took the idea one step further one drunk night after she found a little screw on the bar. We thought it's ingenious. We woke up and realised it's not.

We had a nice time, Mum and me, and she went happy back home knowing that I don't live in a shithole, don't work in a fucked up place and my friends are normal people. And my haircut is respectable.

I am 31 and I am going to a Korean Roller Disco on Friday after I finish work in the kitchen of a restaurant. Mum saw the restaurant and liked it. "I feel relieved now that my Marketing-Graphic design- Painting-Writing-degrees daughter works in a respectable venue." She meant it. Last week I randomly went hitch hiking to Poland and ate so much pierogi that I most likely won't touch it ever again in my life. I also got severely drunk. It has been one year since I am here, starting with my 30th birthday that I got stupidly drunk on and repeated it for my 31st birthday. A friend asked me haven't I learnt my lesson. I always do, but that damn alcohol somehow always tricks me. Friends that couldn't attend apologised and I thought thank god, a witness less. But still there is a whole new set of haunting memories that I have to deal with in my head till the rest of my life. My friends said it's fine. It always has been like that. Nothing much has changed.

At the moment I am home alone since everybody left for different kind of vacations. I don't like being home alone. A friend said it's great because you can walk around naked, pee with doors open and leave stuff wherever they are. Since the first two we do anyway, today I will be leaving stuff wherever they are. Starting with a random sponge that fell on the floor. It does feel great. Technically, I could even smoke in the kitchen but I am deeply traumatised by the last time my flatmate surprised me and found me with a cigarette in my mouth. I tried to to ignore it. She did as well. I tried to push it and I lit another one. She said "Don't push it."

They said to enjoy peace at home and do nothing so I was scanning facebook newsfeed all morning only to see an article from Buzzfeed on how to properly clean your vagina, a really good story about a family living in Russian taiga for 40 years without a human contact and a baby saved from ruins in Syria. I also saw a lot of food, dogs, cats, goats and weather pictures, tried to find a post in FreeYourStuff Berlin on somebody giving away a fake vagina (oh, the comments), failed, read a contemporary guide to erotic Berlin for Easter weekend and contemplated on the idea of getting bunny ears and maybe they let me to Kitkat this time.

And this.

I also learnt how eyebrows are important (so I won't take them off just in case). All to the lovely sounds of construction while I was turning the lights on and off every 10 min. Because Spring.

Which all together caused What the hell am I doing moment, as it usually does when I have no distractions around me like People. And the usual - I should delete this idiotic facebook (at least till the next year so I can get the Happy birthday posts again, thank you) and I should go and do stuff and see things and go running and volunteer in an adventure park and paint and learn horse-back riding and write a book and go cycling around the world, or walking, or sailing, and learn a new job, and get rid of all the clothes I don't need, and get new clothes that I am brainwashed to get, and protest (or at least go to that smoking demonstration) and call people that I love and tell them I love them and go look for more jobs and invite guys that I like for a civilised conversation over coffee (which reminds me quote of the day from a friend: "Yea, coz a good man is hard to find, but a hard man is good to find") and move to China and take a dance course and learn how to be a really good cook and learn German and MOVE TO AN UNINHABITED ISLAND AND JUST EAT COCONUTS THE WHOLE DAY. Or to Alaska and kill myself with unidentified berries.

(Or go shopping and buy the same shoes again like my friend. Because Buy.) 

Which is all very very unreasonable, so I just MADE EGGS instead and promised myself I will become a better and more productive person. But not today. Cause today I'm leaving stuff exactly where they are.

And stuff are right here - It was a great year, starting from dodging fireworks on a beach in India, spending two months in nature, getting teenage drunk on three out of four 30th birthday celebrations, leaving Istanbul, moving to Berlin, being completely insane for three months due to the lack of sleep, meeting more insane people that I'm happy to have in my life, working for pretty damn evil people, working for pretty damn cool people, seeing men coming and going, getting attacked for being a blonde giraffe, learning new skills (german not being one of them), having a serious sequence of seriously good breakfasts, attending weird events, seeing weird stuff, visiting Croatia and Sweden, having an amazing time in Israel, loving more people, being loved by more people, living "as if I'm going to die", according to Father. Cause you and everything you love is going to die. Everything you hate too. Even the things you are indifferent about. Kind of soon. All as usual.



There has been loads of ups and equal measure of downs last year. There were tears and laughter. There were loads of ups and load of downs this week. There were tears and laughter this week. Life completely changed. Again. I made a plan. The plan is not the plan any more. But fuck, I'm still having a great time. It has been a great year.

Thank you for your birthday wishes, it's been amazing. 

So amazing, I can't wait for some more. 

(as if I had a choice)

And in the meantime whenever you have a moment like this:

remember that: 

               And most important:

A day in the life of an average achiever vol. 1

Inside and out.

The average achiever wakes up at 8. It's a very new thing. She took a German course that starts every day at 9am because she can't force herself to do it on her own (both learning German and waking up). For an average achiever that is the most difficult thing to do. And here she pays. Quite a bit so she might as well go. Like a random guy on the street the other day told her friend that he will teach her how to play a mouth harp but he will charge her because that's how she will learn. When she is paying. Makes sense. She said she can't do it now cause she has pain in her diaphragm from too much blowing. Makes sense too.

The average achiever also likes mornings. It's the most wonderful part of the day. But mornings don't seem to like her much and are avoiding her most of her life. Unless she surprises them by stumbling out of a bar during one. But she loves mornings, especially if it's sunny. Which by some strange perverted mood swing of Mother Nature (or maybe because the Germans put their hands on HAARP as she has been informed on the streets of Berlin recently) was happenning for the last months and months. Not a thing you would expect here. Even if it wasn't though, the average achiever's mum bought her a super warm jacket and super hot shoes so it's not a problem. Yes, the average achiever still gets clothes from her mum because 1. she hates shopping 2. her mum loves shopping 3. her mum would buy her a package of "period pants" and some "clothes for grown up woman" instead 4. because she is an average achiever which equals to an average earner and super warm jackets and super hot shoes are expensive 5. she would rather be cold and spend that money on travelling. Or partying. Cause that's what average achievers love.

 Anyway, recently she does get up and she manages to get out. She looks herself in the mirror, realises she looks like shit. Because that's how average achievers look like in the morning, especially when they have hair which has a life on its own and tendency for eye bags. But it doesn't matter because she goes to a language course and nothing ever happens on a language course. Or over a salad, she has been told.

People are going to work. Most of them seem to hate that fact. Most of her hates that fact as well. They say you should do what you love. How many people in this world actually do what they love? She doesn't know many, maybe a few. And these few she hid from her facebook newsfeed. Because they annoy her with doing what they love. It's like those people that somehow seem to have 50 hours in one day and manage to do ten different things and they are really really good in those ten different things they do. And have very interesting hobbies. And they are really good in their hobbies. And they speak seven languages. And they look good. And they eat healthy. And drink a lot of water. And their friends are super interesting. And they have seen places. And did stuff. And helped people. And are politically correct. And travel by bikes. And react to bad things peacefully. And react to bad people in the best manner. And have no accent in any of the languages they speak And are in perfect normal loving relationships. And probably have multiple orgasms every day. And sometimes they pour ice buckets over themselves.

It's not the kind of people you should have on your newsfeed.

But luckily, they are a minority. Most of the others hate what they do. But even if there was a chance for an average achiever to do what she loves, she would probably say: "Sure, WOW, that's amazing!", post it on facebook "I just got the best job offer - to do what I love" and then never call the guys back because she doesn't know what that actually is. Or somebody would call her for a beer in the meantime, she would get drunk and forget about it. Or she would take a job in a bar instead. But it would be a great story over a beer for the next few weeks. And the story would end up with a question So why exactly did you take a job in the bar instead? Mmm, I forgot. Probably it was too much pressure. But anyway what would you think about if you did what you love? What do people dream about when there is nothing left to dream about? So for an average achiever that's enough. The average achiever settles for a job that provides the basic wage with as less hours as possible so she can think the rest of the day about dream jobs and places; a tiny chance to save something for travelling and working for people that are actually nice. Because the average achiever met a lot of bad people. But sometimes, only sometimes they are really really nice human people. And that's what makes her happy. And it is enough. Averagely enough.

The average achiever loves language courses because of grammar. She has no idea how to speak and lacks three months of vocabulary because they decided to put her to the fourth month (because she is good in grammar). They didn't realise that she doesn't have any vocabulary and grammar for her is like solving puzzles. It might as well be any language. Therefore, most of the time she is silent. The surplus in "grammar learning skills" definitely took its toll in "speaking foreign languages" (and coordination in space for that matters).

Sie wollen das Leben positiver sehen? 

But it doesn't really matter because nothing ever happens in language courses. A lot of small talk. Everybody being nice and respectful to everybody. Occasionally singing happy birthday in German for an embarrassed birthday boy / girl and a lot of stories about what they ate / did yesterday. Mostly they are all very young and came to Berlin to study. Nobody seems to be strange, weird, passionate, quirky, insane or a psychopath. So not her type of people. She put them immediately in the "Normal box" (which is naturally beige), hanged a sign "Interaction only when forced by basic manners" and never gave them a chance. Once she laughed cause a Russian girl was explaining where she found her Italian boyfriend and she said Zu Hause. And when teacher asked how did they hook up since she just speaks Russian, she said I gave him Vodka. Brilliant. The average achiever then switched off till the end of the class thinking about a situation where women find little men in their cupboards or on top shelves and give them vodka and they grow and become their boyfriends. It is not a thought you would share on your language course even if you knew how the hell to say it in German. Once a guy that she met asked her about the strangest job she had and she described volunteering on The Great Wall Of Vagina. The next day he wrote it in an essay "A strange job of my friend" for his German course. Everybody was blushing. The teacher was embarrassed. The average achiever immediately liked the guy.

During the break, she goes out to smoke and drink coffee. Naturally. She is Croatian and that is what Croatians do. And preferably not to talk to anybody. It's morning, it is not a good time to converse. So she is doing very important stuff on her phone and is thinking will she ever learn this language and was it a good idea to move here. Should have learnt Spanish, Spanish is easy. And live on Cuba. But people are small in Spanish speaking countries. Which means men are small in Spanish speaking countries. Which means "Everything falls into the water." Together with "The granny with the cakes already passed by." So she better stick to Berlin. And it is fun here, and funny. Today just by being awake for ten minutes, she saw 3 funny things - a granny in a disco jacket with Shiva print on it swearing in Croatian at her old man that was helping her to walk, a packet of eggs with a blond girl in a black bra and white shirt holding a chicken and a leaflet in a supermarket for meditation with Amma, the hugging mother that is happening tonight in Berlin. In Croatia you can be awake for years and not see anything funny. So Berlin it is. Besides, this is a country where men sit while they pee. And that is a funny enough reason to live here.

Germans and chickens

It is noon. The course finished and it is breakfast time. Noon is always the breakfast time - the average achiever either 1. wakes up at that time if there is nothing else to do 2. comes home after the course to eat since her original morning breakfast consists solely of coffee and cigarettes. If she got drunk the night before liters of water as an extra. Sometimes she feels her life is just a series of Turkish breakfasts at noon, and if she is lucky it's the salmon day. It usually lasts minimum an hour. And then coffee and cigarettes as a dessert. The plans are being made, what is obligatory to do today, what can be postponed for tomorrow and are there any other options. Like snail races. Or fetish street festivals. Or sunny day in a park. Or weird hipster exhibitions. Or dates. But that one is tricky. 1. Is it possible to go on a date today? 2. If yes, is it a new person and would it require a lot of small talk? 3. If yes, will she be in the mood for small talk? 4. If no, does the guy look interesting enough to go through the small talk? Usually the idea is ditched unless it is that time of the month when the hormones are playing their mind fuck game and the body needs to know that there is a possibility on focusing that overload of energy towards something male. But just a possibility is enough. Nobody is actually going to do anything. It will be postponed for later. Like average achievers do.

Or not.

But this one is a busy one. Not with dates though. The average achiever runs to prepare some flats for guests. Funny thing, those jobs. No matter how low skilled the job is, there is always so much to learn. The lower the job, the more you learn of human nature. Want to know more about people or the world we live in? Get a job as a cleaner, or in a factory or in a bar. Cleaning is great for it (so great is the cleaning). Now the average achiever knows that there are some people out there that glue the sheets to the mattress with superglue on all four corners and that some leave a bag of weed for the cleaner, that there are some strange looking sex toys out there and that some throw food on the floor while they eat and later walk on it.

(hopefully not in my apartment)

While working in the bar, she can observe people, she can see how people behave when they like somebody, how people respond to being liked, how people gradually get drunk and she can listen to nonsense they are saying. She can also learn a lot about herself from all of those, usually cringing about something somebody has said (fremdschaemen) and realising - Yeap, done that. and make little mental notes along Try not to be that person the next time you are 1. drunk 2. like somebody 3. are being liked. Although you'll probably fail (exactly because you are 1. drunk 2. like somebody 3. are being liked). When you are working in a bar, it is not the same as when you are sober in a bar. When you are sober in a bar, you are still part of it and you probably hate every single person in the room with their zombie behaviour (talking of which, try to wake up early and go to a metro on Sunday around 5am, now that is an experience). But if you work in a bar, you are The Observer, the kind of Observer that makes it all exist by observing. And giving them the drinks of course. Nothing would ever be noticed if you were not there. Sometimes she is imagining she is actually at home and watching a movie of a bar or even better playing a video game - you have to take and serve as many orders. The only difference is that she should be charming, in German. Which she thinks should be also implemented in the video game.

Apart from this, she realised she actually likes everything about working in a bar. Or maybe working in this particular bar. And there is definitely such a special pleasure about throwing bottles into the bin (for glass, of course) and crashing the glass along the way. The noise is so disturbing and loud that it makes it somehow pleasant. And friends told her she looks as if she is in her own environment when standing behind the bar. Something like caged animals that are put back into the wilderness they actually belong to. And she decided to go along with that. Because that's what average achievers do.

caged animals support society. everybody gets a colorful necklace.

Many times the average achiever's father told her "You are such a smart girl and you are so good in so many things but you just don't want to get up in the morning. That's your problem."

True story. Together with Not wanting to step into the wet with her socks. That's even worse.

my father's thoughts

To be continued...Or not. You never know.

P.S. Now that I've said it, something will probably happen on the language course. And probably something that will change the course of history. As it usually does.

P.P.S. Update: It's not that nothing has happened on the language course. The language course itself didn't happen. Due to an average average achiever's unfortunate set of events aka "Let's go for a beer."

the average achiever in the morning