Crush vs. Love

On: being a tinderslut, different kinds of crushes and true love

Crush = a burning desire to be with someone who you find very attractive and extremly special 
(source: urban dictionary)

Crushing on someone feels like walking calmly and ordinary down the road... and suddenly stumbling. That moment when your heart takes a short break, only to stop beating again two seconds after in an uncontrolled manner ("like a jungle drum", as Emilia Torrini would put it). 

And this procedure repeats itself over and over again, each time you see that special person. Why am I even trying to explain it? I'm sure, you have experienced this before. Who has not? I mean, Ask Carly Rae Japsen! Ask James Blunt, or come on: ask Taylor Swift! It's not random that so many people wrote songs about that feeling. 

Naah, I'm not crushing on someone currently...
Who am I kidding? I'm crushing on literally EVERYONE. I'm crushing on someone right now. AT THE F*CKING MOMENT. My cute "neighbour", the guy from the house on the other side of the court whose window is face to face with mine... But there are differences.

I am, like Tyler Oakley, crushing on literally any guy on the street. But maybe that's not real crushing, let's call this one "one-sec-crush" because you forget them after the subway wagon he was in, passed or after you left the park where you saw him sitting on a bench. 

Harder to forget are "Just tonight"s. Not to confuse with meaningless "One Night Stands", these crushes happen at one single evening. It can be the case that you actually meet someone and fall in love with him at first sight (or crush on him at first sight) or that you just (like me) stare at him the whole night. 

And NOTHING HAPPENS AT ALL. 

You should try it Tyler-Oakley-Style. 

The thing is, when you think about it, we're talking about "wasted opportunities" again here. It's the "what could have happened if...". Rather it should be the "at least I tried"... I know it sounds like #foreveralone and #storyofmylife if you put yourself together and talk to that guy or try to dance with him...and then he just rebuffs you. HEY! Pick yourself up from the floor! Or crawl out of the hole you've fallen into. I lend you a hand. Because... been there. Done that. 

But I promise you, it feels a lot better than imagining all the things that didn't happen because you didn't try. Not because he rejected you. Understand? (I know it's kind of a messy motivation, but It works for me)

"Tinder is like a poké-dex for people"
 - my cousin

Hey, and there are other ways to meet crush on people. More "superficial-social media-internet-forever-alone" ways. Like the app "tinder". It's kind of sad that I had the idea of joining tinder after I watched this video by CollegeHumour. But I found it funny. And I did. As "explained" in the video, swiping left means rejecting someone - not finding someone attractive. Swiping right or clicking the green heart button means that you're into that person or find him/her attractive. 

If you haven't already used it, imagine it like a deck of cards. With some pictures, the name and a short self-description on it. Like I said. It's like "app-i-fied" superficiality. Aaaand it's addictive. 

(#tinderslut. Yes, I'm into hashtags right now. Do you know how it feels when irony kind of leads into real use of some words/phrases? Happened to me with YOLO or forever alone. Now with hashtags. I think you could ascribe it to my exorbitant use of twitter these days. Join the fun! Be my 12th follower. )

Butterfly-belly. Heartbeat louder than ever. A kiss.

(photo by Brassai - current exposition at Hôtel de Ville, Paris)

The best thing about crushes is this butterfly-feeling you get. This "OMG he texted!!"-feeling, this "look at his profile pic, his smile is gorgeous!", this "I don't want to be with anyone else but you"-feeling. But crushes (even though there are many different types) are different from love. Real love. Dat deep shit. Because crushes are, sorry cute guys around, just superficial.

If you love someone, it is based not only on physical attraction, it's based on trust and acceptance. You accept the quirks and the perks of the person you're with and the relationship you're in. You accept that it can't be rainbows and unicorns and holding hands all the time. But you still love each other and you know that this person is there for you, needs you, will hold you and kiss you. Even when you have a bad breath and didn't wash your hair this morning.

I had true love once. And I want to have it again. I know, as I experience now, I CAN be happy without "a significant other" by my side. But I tasted love, and I want it again. 

I don't wanna whine about how great romantic relationships are and how I'm missing my ex-boyfriend. I'm not. I appreciate the time we had together and I loved him. But I don't love him anymore. I'm over it. I just want to say that if you are with someone and you sometimes miss the "crush"-feeling, don't give up the love for it (special advice to one of my friends, yes I'm talking to you, girl!).

So that's what you get when you google "subway crush". Not disappointed
(There's even a song about it-  I'm freaking out!)

Because a crush is an intense, but in most of the cases, short affair. Sometimes you feel like you won't EVER recover. But you will. To recover from love is harder. Crushes are not good for nothing. They're fun. That's why tinder is fun. That's why hooking up in a club is fun. And sometimes they can lead to love. :) What I find really cute.

I don't (in contrast to my almost Canadian friend) believe in "The One True Love of Life". I believe that there are many possible true loves just waiting around the corner for me... for you, for everyone. I just gotta catch 'em all (Pokémon reference again!) or at least one... You can make it work if you want to.

That's the real difference. To have and keep love is a lot of work. 

A crush is like a free pizza. It's delicious, it's tasty, it feels good (when you're hungry) and noone would say no to it, because you don't have to do anything for it.

A relationship is more like cooking everyday for yourself. It's your choice if you make that boring convenience food again or cook a 5-course-meal ;). *wisdom words by Lotta*

Maybe you could also go to KFC, but I think that would stretch the metaphor too far. 

I couldn't find an appropriate ending for this post, so I put a nice pic here.

I went to a Boy & Bear concert and crushed on the guitar guy.
I mean it's always the guitar guy for me.

The Third toothbrush

Or: How I have only 4 and a half months left in Paris

Spring starts and I'm in love with Paris. Now that I reached the last quarter of my year abroad, I feel the ineffable urge to enjoy every moment here. And not freaking out about how annoying work can be. Whenever people joke about it or say "OMG these kids are so cute! It's like all-day fun!" or "you "work" with children, don't you?" I'm like: "Yes, and I'm gonna punch you in the face if you don't appreciate that it actually IS work that I'm doing. 

Maybe they should introduce work experience in all different fields of jobs in school just for children/young people/people in general to see what work is like. Maybe they find their dream jobs on the way. But just to see: Hey, garbage collectors have a really tough job, too. Or social workers. Or cashiers. Bearing f*cking impolite assholes all day who complain about 2 cents change that's missing or don't even wish you a nice day. 

As you may notice, this is not going to be a post in which I cover a particular topic, it's more like a "thought storage" (I stole that word-idea) of mine, where I leave the things that just come to my mind in this very moment, at 11 pm in Paris, in my bed. 

Like that I didn't read the last entry of my friend's blog because I was to busy satisfying my youtube addiction tonight (and that I have to do it later because I hate myself for the fact that I forgot about it and I'm filled with tension to read his philosophical outpour - hey, that sounded poetic). À propos "poetic", I love the idea of putting poésie (= poetry) in the Parisian metro. It makes me smile everytime when I see a new poem. :) And sometimes they make me think. Like the quote:

Le poète est le fou le plus proche de la vérité - Claude Nougaro

 (= The poet is the fool who is the closest to the truth). Just think about it. 

Sometimes I miss the old days. I miss how easy my childhood was. Or how it seems to me now. Because in reality, I knew I had a lot of worries. Because I'm a worrier. I'm hoping to get rid of that (as you could read in the last few posts). My memories are like strings that all connect and mess up in a big clutter, a ball of wool that losts its form. Endless games we tried out, bike rides to the meadows where we used to have great picnics, where we played "jacks and UNO cards" (Fergie quote) and sung lyrics of our favorite songs, being at my grandma's house, memories of having the greatest birthday parties in the world (because my family is huuuge), how we crawled in the garret and made us a home there with apple juice and magazines. I remember holidays, huge sand castles with moats for the waves to bathe the castle with beautiful shell decorations on it. I think of the nights in my bed when I couldn't get to sleep because I had to cry about the fact that my mum tossed our old living room cupboard (that I loved) in the trash and about how everything in life has to change and that change is inevitable and cruel, but neccessary. And the fact that everybody is going to die anyway, my family and me included. And the fact that I wasn't able to understand the universe. 

Oh yeah, change. I'm not done with that theme, not yet, I think. Even though I know, we need change in our lives, I'm still basking here in nostalgy and melancholy about the "good old times". I don't want to just leave it behind like that annoying facebook girl on the internet would do with a quote nobody remembers the person who said it first, like: "remember the past, live in the now, think about the future". So maybe I will whine about it in a upcoming blog post. 

I have this urge to write. To write things down. To get them out of my head on paper (the pages of my diary - yes, I'm old-fashioned) and my in Internet diary, this special blogger-site you're at. Some people say words mean nothing. Others say they mean everything. I can't decide. I am just able to say that I can't live without writing. Whenever I stop - and there were many times, I stopped, believe me, I start over new again. At any time, sooner or later. 

I am afraid, that there will never be any "outcome" of my writing. But what if I don't need one? What if I'm just satisfied with the actuality (and the story of my life) that only three people actually read my blog? What if it just means the world to me that you, and just you, read these words? That I reached you - fuck the others. And if you're not existant, because I have zero readers then you equals my future-me. But: who cares?

Hey future-Lotta, what's up? I wonder how ashamed you will be while reading this, maybe laughing about how pathetic you were, back then in your teen years, pouring your inner feelings out to the world like this... 

For those who still brood over the headline of this post, for those who only read this long just to understand it: When march started, I threw away my old blue toothbrush to use a new, green one. (I have already mentioned that I'm old-fashioned: No, I don't own an electric toothbrush) Now you start to think: WTF is she now totally freaking out? Yes, I am. I found a symbolic meaning in my toothbrushes. At the beginning of the year, in September, I bought a pack of 4 (orange, blue, green, purple) because I'm Swabian and it was cheaper this way. Now I figured out that it was very practical, too, because I read somwhere you should change your toothbrush every 3 months. For those who are good at math it's clear, that now, that I reached the third toothbrush, my year in Paris is almost over.

And that's why. Now you can ease yourself and go to sleep. And I can, too (finally). I hope you forgive me all the typos I may have made in my "writing flow" and that I'm too lazy to correct now, because it's late and (to make a nice circle around this post) I have to work tomorrow.

I see you around and (like Tyler Oakley likes to put it:) have a good life! :)

I fell in love with this city

- "I can never decide whether Paris is more beautiful by day or by night."

- "No, you can't, you couldn't pick one. I mean I can give you a checkmate argument for each side. You know, I sometimes think, how is anyone ever gonna come up with a book, or a painting, or a symphony, or a sculpture that can compete with a great city. You can't. Because you look around and every street, every boulevard, is its own special art form and when you think that in the cold, violent, meaningless universe that Paris exists, these lights, I mean come on, there's nothing happening on Jupiter or Neptune, but from way out in space you can see these lights, the cafés, people drinking and singing. For all we know, Paris is the hottest spot in the universe."

quoted from "Midnight in Paris"

Some words about courage

A few weeks ago I went to Starbucks and, you know, a lot of hipsters go there, too. So there was this pin board with a note on it.

It looked exactly like this. (maybe it's mass production - screw you hipsters!)

I wonder why I chose "courage".

Maybe, because I need it. Desperatly. I set up some goals. Not only for the new year that lies ahead of me, but also for the rest of the future that is yet to come.

Some of them seem to be ridiculously easy to achieve. Others are hard. And the worst of them seem impossible to me.

But somehow, I want to find the courage to do the things which are needed to achieve my goals. To become the person I want to be. And to satisfy myseld (not in that way, you with the dirty mind).

Because I'm dissatisfied right now.

I don't eat healthy. I have the worst skin I had in years. I'm working my ass off. I buy things I don't really need. I talk to people I don't really like. And if a friend was in this situation, I'd be like: "Just stop it!"

Just stop doing these things, if they don't make you happy. And if I would advice another person to stop doing sth. I might should stop it, too. Mission to accomplish: Level up!

After that guy approached me in the metro some weeks ago to flirt with me and get my number, I started to think about courage again. Because I thought I could never be this courageous. I already talked about it in a recent post about jumping off bridges: That courage feels good. (In German it's triple rhyme time: "Mut tut gut") 

If you had one shot, or one oppurtunity to seize everything you ever wanted. One moment. Would you capture it or just let it slip? 

- Eminem 

And furthermore, it makes me sad how many possibilities , how many chances we just miss by being "too shy" or "too polite". Or we just lack self-confidence and obey unspoken society rules like "people just don't...". It's sad, because afterwards it always feels like failure. Because it is, somehow. You missed something, by not even trying. 

So, maybe the next time I see a cute boy who wears a t-shirt of my favourite band, I might take the tiny piece of paper out of my pocket. Take a short look on the little word written on it that starts with a "c".

And just say "Hi".

Hi

A Freezing Flicker of Flawless Beauty

The first time that I felt at home and "arrived" in Paris was when I first looked at the passing streets from a bike. Now that spring finds its way into the boulevards and parks of Paris (and in our hearts *sigh*) my vélib-abonnement pays off once again. All that rainy grey gloomy days are supposed to vanish behind the sun that is finally showing up again, after all the clouds have gone.

When the beams of shy February sunlight peek through the rare leaves in the trees of the alleys, when the top floors of the Haussmann-houses are bathed in a golden shine and the people enjoy their afternoon cigarettes on the balconies, when you just put on some good music, when you see the kids playing soccer in the streets and the skateboarders failing at their tricks on Place de la République, when you cross the Canal St Martin and you hear the birds sing in a dissonant composition with the seagulls, when you have your gloves, a scarf and a bonnet ready (because it's still freezingly cold in the wind). Then you hit the pedals of your bicycle without even noticing because you're so stunned and paralysed at the same time by the beauty surrounding you, 
The beauty of daily life. The beauty of the moment. Pour l'instant (= for the moment), you're just happy. It's easy. You don't have to worry about money, about arguments, about problems, about life or death. 

Canal St Martin these days...

A good friend of mine told me that music sometimes works like a drug which can put you in all different kinds of states of mind: Sad, angry, desperate, happy... 
And if you're listening to that song above, if you close your eyes and imagine all the things I described, you will smile. You will understand me and my spontaneous urge to write all these things down.

Just jump, bitch!

I just tell you now that I fell in love. And I couldn't help myself I just fell in love. 


Sometimes you just need to do what you want to do. Someone smart once said that you only regret what you haven't done, not what you actually did. I can admit to this statement most of the time, because I think people are willing to accept their mistakes if they made some. It is the ambition in every of us to be able to live with ourselves. 
Only the few who consider their own mistakes or failure or worthlessness to be unacceptable, choose to end their lives. The others succeed (more or less) in convincing themselves and others that nothing they did was "that bad".

And why not? Why should we all be suicidal, anxious and - on top of that lame? Life gives us so many opportunities to have fun, to forget the plans we made earlier, to discover new things and places, to meet new people and to do a lot of crazy stuff. After you did them, you never regret them. Rather, when you're currently doing them or when you're about to do them. Like bungee jumping. 

Noone ever smiles before they jump. They're all doubtful, scared and secretly asking themselves: WHY DID I WANTED TO DO THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE??? .
But when you finally overcome the insecurity, the questions, the thoughts of consequences (What if the rope will crack? :O), when you "just do it" (like a famous brand for sports wear likes to put it) - then you feel the happiness.

"YOLO"

Some stupid kid on the internet

You feel the freedom. Maybe the freedom of choice. Or maybe it's the feeling of success. Or the feeling of being a human who is capable of overcoming his own fears. The feeling of being alive.

Once I jumped off that bridge I got this exact feeling. After the 15 minutes (that felt like 2 hours) I spent there standing on the edge, on the balustrade, hesitating, when I finally jumped - I loved myself. I had courage. And courage feels good.

It's not "that" bridge in the sense of "it could be any bridge".
Nope, it was actually that bridge that you can see above.

I don't see the point in doing drugs, hurting people or being an asshole in the name of YOLO-ing, but I appreciate the thought behind it. We are to believe (unless you're buddhist) that we only live once. So we should make something out of it, goddammit!

Maybe that's why I've started to change my mind recently and try to  just do the things that I enjoy and that feel right. I have to cut people off who are boring, mean and waste my time, but I can let people in that are cool, fun and honest. 

#YOLOhipsterswag

"You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down "

- Ray Bradbury

That's why I try to follow my feelings more. And that's why I posted that link above. Currently, I have a heavy crush on a cute guy I met a week ago and I try just going for it. I try not to think to much about it, I try not to worry, not to make plans and fantasies of what could happen to avoid disappointments. I just try to live now and make the best out of it. I just try to avoid the thinking. 

And then I jump.