ivory towers are for jumping

It's a lovely day. The sun is shining, the sky is a hazy blue, children are playing in the neighbour's garden; in short, it's lovely. Apart from the bugs, that is. They bug me, and they find my coffee as attractive as this stupid fly does find my perfume (What the hell do they do with this stuff?).

In a sudden bout of vanity, I've decided to wear but a T-shirt and my new, white (and extremely good-looking) skirt. I'm intent on getting a tan in one day - and I am quite aware that this attempt is as vain as I am. Even though the T-shirt is a bit of an unlucky choice - exposed arms mean but exposed cuts and scars for me - I hope that said exposure of skin to sunlight will have a positive effect on my over-all mood. The move just lurking around the corner, I will need all the energy I can possibly muster up to survive the following ten days. And I am intent on making good use of the garden as long as I still have it.

I feel somewhat sorry for leaving this house, my dear flat mate Alex, and my little snowman Ana behind. I've grown fond of our little 'threesome'. Still, I'm very much looking forward to moving back to Dresden again. To survive the sterility of Warwick University, you have to be carved out of a different kind of wood. Having the choice between being without a name in Dresden and being without a soul here, I know what I will opt for.

The neighbour's kids just tossed their tennis-ball over the fence and then politely requested in their language - which is not English, either - that I give it back. No need to say I didn't quite understand what those two cute faces asked me for as they appeared behind the fence - I hadn't seen the ball. However, as they repeated their request in English, the situation cleared up. God, they are cute; I'd adopt them readily, but I doubt my Indian neighbours would be too fond of this idea. Tough luck.

Adopting kids - or having some myself - wouldn't be a good idea, anyway. Apart from the fact that I consider myself far too young to take responsibility for a little soul's life and well-being (I hardly manage to take responsibility for myself right now), I still have an academic career in mind. Knowing that the over-all circumstances are not extremely favourable, and being quite aware that children diminish the chances of professional advancement in our culture, I shall refrain from the wish of reproducing. What am I talking about? I wouldn't even have a father for those kids.

This really bugs me. Our government complains that educated women don't have enough children, yet they do nothing to help (prospective) mothers to keep their job. I mean, honestly, the prospect of doing my M.A., maybe topping it with a Ph.D. and then arduously climbing the ivory tower seems less inviting when all these efforts were in vain because of one misguided - or lucky - sperm. I know a girl who does it - studying whilst being a full-time mother - but she only manages to get by because the father's a student, too. Both of them are still being delayed in their studies, they don't find the time to work at home, and I don't even want to mention their financial situation. Plus, she is lucky: she has a devoted father for their little daughter.

Granted, some people do it, and it seems to work. But I still wonder whether I'd be up for the challenge of being a mum and a super-achiever at uni. I doubt it. I don't even manage to achieve anything right now, and although I know this state to be only temporary, it still feels scary to even consider the double-strain these girls must be under. Maybe some of you did it and you can tell me how you managed (taking into account the educational system of your country)? It's not that I was seriously considering having a child, but I'd be interested all the same.

Ana gave me a cafetière for my birthday - it's so damn great! After drinking this dish-water (also euphemistically called 'tea') and this used dish-water (also euphemistically tagged 'instant coffee') for half a year, it's good to have some seriously strong, aromatic, freshly-brewed coffee. I'd almost forgotten how much I missed it in the beginning of my stay here. Soon, soon I will be back to Jan's heart-attack causing, pitch-black coffee and real bread. It's always the same, the first two weeks after being back from Germany, Alex and I find ourselves unconsciously refusing to eat the soft white stuff they call bread over here. Once in a while I venture out to Sainsbury's to buy some ridiculously expensive soft brown stuff and some ham which hasn't been reformed and cut into toast-like squares. The food... the food! Dear English, I love you and your country, but sometimes I wonder how you even managed to survive the first five years of your life - with all the ready-made stuff, the cucumbers only being sold in halves, and what not. It's a new world to me - and, I'm sorry to say so, not a particularly tasty one. Granted, your teas are better and fair-trade, your chocolate is gorgeous, the cookies are lovely, but the rest? Bland. I can't just live on cookies, chocolate and tea! Well, I guess I could - but the point is: I shouldn't.

I've tried to lay off the alcohol recently, and guess what? It works. The decision to only drink in company was a good one. Not only had I been drinking far too much, I was also beginning to functionalize the alc as combined medication for insomnia, depressed mood and anxiety. Certainly not a good idea. I've always loved drinking beer, both frequently and in large amounts, and while I always considered myself as an alcoholic in disguise, I never found that I had to make an effort not to drink for a few days. Yet, this is exactly what happened last week, and when I think about it thoroughly, I realize that it must have been January or December that I last spent two evenings in a row without drinking. By drinking I don't mean getting drunk - usually it is only one beer, but that doesn't really make a difference. So, I am intent to drink only whilst in company. Alcohol used to be a social thing, and that's what it has to become again, else it'd be missing the point. Since I don't have much of a social life at the moment and most of my friends rarely drink, I don't think I run the risk of continuing my drinking habits. My resolution for my twenty-third year of existence: I will think before I drink.