.post-body {font-family: ‘Old+Standard+TT:400,700’; font size: 16px; }


June 24, 2014

This ones for you, Summer!









The first day of summer has come.
One of the few sights of Summer, in my city, is this painted sheet metal above, that is built around a construction site. It screams holidays at the Amalfi coast or somewhere in Greece. I love summer in the city and actually don't have to leave. Not that I say no to a trip. 

Unfortunantelly in my neck of the woods Summer is long overdue. When I take Superdog outside, I'm wearing a scarf these days. A scarf!


During the summer time feet are supposed to be dirty from walking on grass, fingers are sticky from eating watermelons, tan lines on shoulders and shaking sand out of shoes. Getting caught up in summer rain, that passes as quickly as it came and feels oh, so good on bare skin. The sun should have people out of bed early and the long warm evenings, should keep them out of bed until very late at night. The smell of sun tan lotion and grilled food should fill noses. Ice cream should be breakfast, lunch and dinner. Ice cream is considered a snack, too, you know?! Summer also exposes tattoos on arms, backs and calves, even though some should stay hidden. Thanks to the sun, freckles appear on noses, which personally I find charming on people.
Life happens outside during the summertime: in parks, at beaches, in pools. Music blasting out of convertibles at red traffic lights. Flirting is easy, as it should be. During all seasons. All interaction between people has an easieness about it. Lots of smiles. 
Summer is a drive in movie theater, that I so desperatly want to go to. Sitting in the back seat with that special someone as you move closer to one another while a movie, preferably an old one, is enjoyed on the big screen. They are dissapearing and are replaced with movies in the park. Lounging on blankets, while sharing good food and a bottle of wine is a good alternative, though.
Summer means sun glasses. I keep losing mine over and over during the year. So often, that I haven't owned a pair longer than two weeks. 
Summer also means my birthday. My birthday is still some weeks away. However, I would hate to wear jacket and scarf on that day, too!

Summer, I'm ready for you.

May 27, 2014

A different look at The Hive 2014

There was a time when I thought bringing The Hive to Copenhagen must have been one of the silliest ideas I ever had. I'm going to be honest, there was also a time, I thought I just cancel The Hive 2014 all together. But after some cake and chocolate (and I'm not kidding) these thoughts were gone and made room for the "Let's do it" mentality.  

And where did this mentality lead me to? To the best The Hive ever! That's where!


The Scandic Sydhavnen has been the most perfect location for us. Offering a conference wing, where we wouldn't disturb the other hotel guests, setting up everything the way we wanted to and most importantly having all conference rooms on the same floor, without having to run all over the place in order to find the right speaker.
Together with great food (hello Jamie Oliver!) and a helpful team of Scandic employees and my volonteers made for very smooth sailing. I couldn't have asked for more.
As a matter of fact I was waiting for the storm on Saturday. But that one never came. All the hard work of so many people came together and the puzzle was complete.
Don't get me wrong, there is always room for improvement, but if you had been at The Hive last year, you know exactly what I'm speaking about.

I like to believe The Hive is different than other conferences. It is about making the blogger better and in turn make the blog better. That is why we also offer workshops like calligraphy!  Jump starting thoughts, challening to try new things, networking and meeting so many bloggers offline, that you had followed on various online channels or being honest, that's what The Hive should be all about.
You can also hear that in the wonderful presentations we had this year. It was all about being open, honest, vulnerable. Not the touchy-feely kind of conference, but also not the kind where we are judgemental.

"I was actually very nervous about coming to The Hive this year. It took a whole day for me to relax enough to enjoy the conference after being at The Hive last year in Berlin".
Those were the words of a German attendee at this years The Hive in Copenhagen.
And I know exactly what she was taking about. This year has been a lot like the first The Hive in 2012. People were curious, open, kind, asked questions and were interested.

Last year was a different story. People were judgemental, looking up and down on people with a smaller following, very clique-y (as someone put it), but most importantly not kind. These people were a reason not to travel to Copenhagen this year. The attendees who had this happening told me that.
The atmosphere was everything but relaxed. I will work very hard in this year to make sure a the same wonderful, thriving and encouraging atmosphere will be in Berlin 2015.

Organizing The Hive this year in Copenhagen has been the most difficult project, but also the most rewarding one. My friends had to listening to my concerns more than once.
The fact that The Hive 2013 in Berlin didn't go down as smooth as I wanted it, which isn't a secret, also added to my nervousness. There had been last minute cancellations, which I had to cover, combined with some other worries. Personally and professionally.
But there have also been so many people who have been a neverending source of ideas, input and also a lot of help. These wonderful people got me in contact with other people, picked things up, shared their thoughts, jumped in when a speaker had cancelled on very short notice (I'm talking 72 hours short notice) or simply listened to me. 

I said it once. I say it again. Thank you each and every one of you! For helping, for networking, for speaking and for coming. 

Will I see you in 2015 in Berlin? 





March 17, 2014

And then there was the French guy who kissed my hair {in Paris}


There is hardly a trip I have been on, without some kind of outrages, funny story that make my friends shake their head. But when I told people, what had happened to me in Paris with Philippe, they were staring at me with open mouths and then rolled on the floor laughing.

So who is Philippe, you ask? While I walked through Jardin des Tuileries a man came up next to me and spoke French. Now, my French is so aweful and I was so suprised that I didn't understand a word he said to me. He was quick in switching over to English. We started chatting and he walked with me through the beautiful gardens. We were quick in exchanging names and I also mentioned that this is my first time in Paris and I'm only staying a few days. I talk a lot. 


In one part of the Tuileries you find concrete blocks with hands on them. In various sizes and shapes. On one block is a tiny baby hand, which I find quite disturbing, to be honest. After hearing I had never seen these hands before, Philippe directed me to them. I asked him some questions, why these hands were displayed. He didn't know, he said. I asked him, to make something up. He did comply with my request and I regretted ever asking him. 
Not only did he make up a story to each set of hands, but he reenacted the scene by holding on to mine. That was as weird as it sounds. I was a little uncomfortable about this, but I also thought to myself: let's roll with it.
Our conversation had been pleasant up to this point, which was a reason I didn't run for the hills, when he held onto my hands just a tad to long.

I had planed to walk through the gardens, over Champs-Élysées and up to Arc de Triomphe which you can see in the distance while the Louvre is right behind you. Every major sight is in walking distance in Paris. Philippe walked with me some more. We talked some more. 
I got to hear I have beautiful eyes and that I neither sound nor look German. Whatever that means. He also told me he wants to see me again and if I had some time for coffee in the next days. During our walk he had tried to take my hands again or linked his arms with me. When we arrived up at the Arc de Triomphe, my French companion, informed me that he would need to take the metro to go home. Which was just fine with me. He assured me one more time, that he really wanted to see me again and handed me his phone number. 




He leaned in and I thought he would say his good byes the French way. Well, I was in for a surprise. Philippe was a head an a half taller than me. Instead of giving me small pecks on my cheeks, he gave me a hug and didn't let go again. Quite the contrary, he kissed my hair over and over, while mumbleing something to the tune of: you give what you can, I give you what I can. Less than two hours after we met! Ahm, no thank you!
He finally let go of me and walked to the metro. I was left puzzled right there on Champs-Élysées. Thinking, I would never see this guy again.

But the story is not over just yet. Bear with me here. 

The next afternoon I made my way to the Louvre and walked again through the Tuileries. Who, do you think, was standing pretty much at the same spot, where he chatted me up the day before?
You guessed it!
I proceeded to walk quickly towards the Louvre, but Philippe started one more attempt and asked me to slow down. I told him that my friends were waiting for me and that I was late and needed to hurry up. Needless to say, I don' have any plans to contact him.
I have to believe that this guy spends his day walking up and down the garden, hoping to get lucky.

There you have it. My Paris story about a French guy who kissed my hair on Champs-Élysées. 

March 11, 2014

I fell in love {with Paris} Part 1

My very close and dear friend S. has been to Paris more than once and she kept telling me that this is her favorite European city. That Paris was so beautiful and she wants to return over and over again. 
I usually nodded and told her inattentively "yes, you might be right, Stockholm is nice too or Vienna" or I said "One day I might make it to Paris".

One day came a few weeks ago. I had to work in Paris, but mostly went there to play. I had some appointments to keep, but my days were spend just wandering through this city.
I only had three days and since this was my first time there I stuck with the classic sightseeing.









Love is all around in Paris. Maybe it is a clichée, that I wanted to read into this place, maybe it was all the loved up couples. But the signs of love are all over Paris. 
I assumed that there would be bridges with love locks. These can be found in all major cities and close to major sights, it seems. I had no idea just how many would be on the bridges right next to Notre Dame. Rows and rows of locks from all over the world. Some people obviously came prepared, knowing well they would attach a lock onto the bridge to make their love visible. Their locks were engraved with names and/or dates. Others probably bought a lock from one of the many vendors, that can be found on the bridges that sell them overpriced. Not to mention that the permanent maker is available too, equally overpriced. 



I can't imagine that, once you have attached your lock, you will ever find it again. But it is the thought that counts, no?

But there are more love signs in Paris. Did you know about the "Love Wall"? 
It is a wall in Montmatre at the Place des Abbesses. On it you can find "I love you" written in many languages. Even in sign language. 



After a meeting with some time to kill untill dinner with bloggers, I decided to go up to Montmatre and look around there. The weather was glorious. After climbing many, many, many stairs and finally getting my breath back, realizing that I really got to do something about my shape, I found myself on the stair of Sacre Coer overlooking Paris. 





And it was while sitting on the stairs of Sacre Coer and soaking up the sights and sounds around me, that I texted my dear friend S. appologizing to her for not taken her words seriously. Because she was right all along. She also said I should try eating clams. I did stay away from that, though. I'm sorry for ever doubting you, S.! I'll never do it again. 

Paris is so wonderful and gorgeous. It just does things to you. You walk around this city like a smiling idiot. You order cafe au lait and eat macarons. Actually you eat your way through all the various baked goods. You convince yourself that your French is nearly perfect, just because you remembered some words from your school days, that are more than a decade ago. Your daydreams even go so far, that you have visions of an appartment with wood floors and shutters. You open them each day to the sight of the very impressive Eiffel Tower while sipping more cafe au lait and the smell of freshly baked bread, from the bakery on the ground floor, comes through the open windows.
Oh, yes, I did it all.

February 24, 2014

January is not my month. Superdog would agree.

So, here I am again. The worst blogger slash conference founder on this green earth. I really need to get into the swing of things. It is not you, it is me. Nothing personal. Please bear with me. 

Shall we start by talking about this new year, that is actually already nine weeks old?
A new year is exciting. You start of with a clean slate. New projects in the pipeline. After the holidays, which make everything stop in its tracks, it is time to get back into the swing of things. Unfortunantelly, this has never been the case for me. I usually feel guilty about this. I feel like locking myself into my place and continue to polish off all that chocolate that is left over. 

Superdog would actually agree this year. Some months ago I found a lump on his leg. The vet thought it might be a clogged sebaceous glan, but it got bigger and over Christmas I found three more lumps on his back and knee. Pea size and under his skin. So, off to the vet we went, who we left 30 minutes later with an appointment for surgery the following week. I got him back from surgery that very evening.

I had various bandages all over him. He looked like he had been attacked by post its. 
Here he is back home on the same evening while still struggeling with being sedated.



Don't you just feel sorry for him? He had trouble drinking, the water just spilled all over the kitchen. During the wake up process at the vet he had peed on himself. We were both not happy campers. We had a rough night, I tell you!
But my big guy was back to his old, loveable self on the next day. 
To keep him from licking his wound I tried to use a plastic funnel on him. That didn't go down very well. 


So I left it off. But because he kept licking at the wound at night, it got infected. Therefore we were loaned a soft "plate" with a hole in it. Much better!


The lab results took a week to get back in. To make a long story short: Those lumps are benign tumors. They are gone for now and they could stay away for the next three years or I'm back at that vet in six months. And then those tumors could be malignant.
Until that day, I'm just thankful to have him healthy and smiling.

Yes, Karlsson does know how to smile. And so do I. Even if it is in January.

December 11, 2013

Fleamarkets and I finally found IT!

Weekends are perfect for wandering around fleamarkets and hoping to be lucky in finding THAT special item.
And I was very lucky and found myself THAT special thing. I had wanted one of THESE for such a long time. I kept bookmarking IT on ebay and Etsy, but somehow it never felt right. But then on a small shelf on the Hells Kitchen flea market I saw IT: 
An old school viewmaster! 
The very nice gentleman even reduced the price (I'm no good in negotiating prices!) and threw in some reels. How could I not buy it?
It works perfectly and I'm thrilled to have a souvenir from New York that I really wanted. 
Now I can say: Oh, you know, I bought it on the Hells Kitchen fleamarket, in New York! No biggie. 


In New York I spend one chilly Sunday on not one, not two, but three different fleamarkets. I was all over Manhattan!

1. Hells Kitchen Fleamarket: Very vintage. Dresses, coats, jewelry, cameras and much more. Located on West 39th, between 9th & 10th Avenues. Every Saturday and Sunday, 9am-5pm. 

My favorite thing to look at on fleamarkets has always been old photographs and postcards that people have written to loved ones. I can spend hours on this alone!



2. The Antiques Garage: it is indeed a parking garage on two floors. Here you can buy vintage art, jewelry, fine silver, household appliances and clothes. Find it on 12 West 25th Street, between 6th and 7th Avenues, open every weekend 9am-5pm.  





3. Green Flea on Columbus Avenue: a great mix of new and vintage. Each week they have different vendors, so you always get to see new stuff. You find a lot of carpets, fabrics and silverware. But also vendors that sell diy jewelery. 
It is on school grounds and fenced in. Part of the fleamarket of it is actually inside the school. Perfect when it starts to rain, which it did on my day. Located between West 76th/77th Streets on Sundays, 9am-5pm.










December 4, 2013

Theater on Broadway

My friends will tell you, just how much I love the theater. My love for theater was one reason I chose New York for my trip. I bought my tickets online, weeks before the trip: Romeo & Juliet, The Glass Menagerie and Waiting for Gordot. 
I wanted to see more, but the ones I had in mind where sold out during my stay. If you know me, you know that watching a play on Broadway is big for me. The plays could have been awful (but were not), I still would have loved every minute of it.

I had a matinée date with Orlando Bloom in Romeo and Juliet in Rodgers Theater. 




The advantage about a matinée is, that you probably won't sit in a sold out theater. The disadvantage is, that you might sit there with a students, who are dealing with this particular play in class. Contrary to Germany, where the matinées are Sundays, they are on Wednesday afternoon on Broadway. 
Right on Time Square is a red cube, where you can buy tickets, get there early. Once Times Square fills up, the lines in front of it will be long. 

Of course, Orlando Bloom plays Romeo. He comes on stage with a motorcycle, takes his helmet off and the girls in the rows in front of me nearly fainted. He also has a scene with no shirt on. Oh, yes, the girls almost lost it.
I secretly took this photo of the Romeo & Juliet cast at the end.


If I were to recommend five all-time-must-see-plays, The Glass Menagerie would be in that list. I have seen it four times now. One review of the New York Times says: "Be prepared to have the breath knocked out of you". Oh, so true!




Unfortunantelly I forgot my camera back at the hotel when I went to see Waiting for Gordot. I know, I know. Another play on the list to see. Sir Ian McKellen and Sir Patrick Stewart on stage. What is not to love?


December 2, 2013

Brooklyn Bridge

The Brooklyn Bridge has always symbolized New York for me. I see the bridge, I think about New York. Even though I had been to New York before, I never walked across it. This time I had it on my to do list.



To be honest the skyline of Brooklyn is not that impressive (sorry Brooklyn!), so you want to take the subway over to Brooklyn and walk towards Manhattan and enjoy that view. Therefore don't get off at Brooklyn Bridge station, just keep going on more stop! Or walk towards Brooklyn and back over to Manhattan. I won't judge you.


When you get off at High Street station for example, it is just about 10 minutes by foot to the bridge and to a very small, almost missable flight of stairs, that get's you up on the bridge.
But don't walk over just yet or you're missing out. 



Right underneath the bridge is a small little sandwich place, called No. 7 Sub. Not being one to say no to a sandwich, like ever, I enjoyed lunch and a wonderful view.


Also located underneath the bridge is Jane's Carousel. Another point on my to do list. A wonderfully restored carousel, close to a hundred years old. To protect the carousel from the weather, it is within a glass cube. 2 Dollars, one ticket. 




Signs around Brooklyn Bridge park show you the way up onto the bridge. Walking across over to Manhattan takes about 30-45 minutes. 






At many landmarks around the world, people have started attaching locks, it seems. Brooklyn Bridge is no different. But there are not many opportunities to do so.


Brooklyn Bridge, it was nice spending time with you. You will always be "New York" for me.