I've been tagged. Thanks a lot.

Ok, let me get this straight. I'm only doing this because I'm a nice girl (of course I am! I you are going to doubt me in the comments section, you better have a very good reason). I'm not really into being tagged. But because Chris is mean, he tagged me with a stupid Christmas tag. And, as I said, because I'm nice, I'm complying.

Anyway. The rules are apparently to name three things I got for Christmas and then three things I didn't get for Christmas. Ok. Sounds exciting. I'm sure you cannot wait! Tension is rising! Ready? Sitting down?

I got:

1. A pair of red boots (from my best friend Paula. She is such a legend. I have wanted red boots for ages and have no idea how I have survived before without them. I think basically I need a pair of boots in most colours, a pair of sandals in most colours, high heels and open toed heels in most colours. Just as basics I mean. And then on top of that your sneakers, your little extras like a pair of cowboy boots, hiking boots, havaiannas and crap like that. Ok, ok, so I'm a little bit obsessed with shoes, so what? And you're like perfect or what? Give me a break.)

2. A book (whooo-hooo. Now that's waaaay out there, isn't it. But to tell you the truth, I love books so much that it is one of the only things that I can never have enough of. Apart from shoes I guess. And belts. I'm a lot worse with belts than with shoes actually. But anyway- I love books and one day I will have a huge house with a huge library. You know one of those where you need a ladder to get to the top shelfs. You mark my words.)

3. A painting (which my mum painted for me. I thought that was very bloody legendary. I mean, how cool is that? My mum painted a picture of Zurich and sent it all the way over to Australia. My mum is waaaay cool.)

Now three things I did not get (and did not want) for Christmas:

1. A ticket to see the cricket (because cricket is so boring. I cannot think of anything more boring. I'd rather watch grass grow. Ok... that's not my joke. But I like it.)

2. A box of mint chocolates (I know everyone is going to scream in shock about this one, as all you freaks out there seem to like mint chocolate. But I'm from Switzerland and in Switzerland we don't mess with our chocolate and put shit like mint in it. We have it straight and the way it's meant to be. Mint is ok if it's the fresh herb. Mint paste is only ok in toothpaste. Anywhere else, no. And especially nowhere near chocolate. That should be illegal.)

3. Skinny leg jeans (because I know what I look good in and skinny leg jeans are not on that list. And they should not be on the list of 95% of other women either. If you're not borderline annorexic and are trying to make yourself look fatter, don't wear them. And if you have a penis, don't wear them full stop.)

Now, because he's only a little bit but not completely mean, Chris spared me from having to tag other people. Thank God. Because Christmas is soooo, like, last month.

Love and peace, man

I know this is borderline ridiculous. Or actually, it's just plain ridiculous. It's been way too long since my last post and if you are reading this post now and I haven't scared you away yet with my prolonged absence, you deserve a medal for loyalty. Which of course I won't give you, because, let's face it, you're here out of your own free will and not because of me. Because you're hoping you might get something out of this- maybe some raunchy story or at least a bit of a laugh. Unfortunately, I have to disappoint you. There are no raunchy stories, at least none that I want to share with you, and I'm not feeling particularly funny either. Sorry guys.

Anyway. Seeing that sadly you will have to miss out on witty stories today, or anything of substance for that matter, I thought I'd share at least some photos from my week at the music festival in Woodford with you. It was absolutely amazing. Two of my best friends and me and one week of concerts, music, music, music, dance, thousands of people, chai tea, drums, sunglasses, bare shoulders, spontaneous laughs with friends and strangers, rainbow coloured headscarves, sandals, sun, cold beer, cold showers, falafel rolls, laying in the grass, running into old friends, talking to strangers, bright stars, dancing in the rain, rum and coke out of cans, peace and love, long skirts, happy faces, surprises, blueberry pancakes and soy lattes, group hugs, comedy nights, market stalls, straw hats, coloured lights in the forrest, guitars, kisses, smiles, drums, political discussions, art, dance workshops and inspiration. It's overwhelming. In a good way.

My absolute favourite moment of the festival was the three minutes of silence, when at 11.30pm on New Year's Eve the whole festival goes silent for three minutes. We were up at the amphi theater with another about fifteen thousand people. They hand out candles to everyone and spread the flame from the front up the hills, until the whole area is lit up with thousands of little lights. When the bell goes on, everyone goes completely silent. Nobody moves. And as everything goes quiet, the air starts to buzz with energy. You just sit there with goose bumps and quietly look around. It's like the world stops.

Paula and me worked for the radio, as I have been for the last two festivals before that, and even the work is amazing. We do sound recording, interview musicians, do vox pops, one meeting a day and a little bit of studio work. I love it. Woodford is like a little world of its own. After seven days, it's hard to go back to reality. But we managed. We're pretty tough.



Having a drink in our raincoats in one of the bars. Out of plastic cups. Classy.


A couple of kids are getting creative.


Michelle and me are dancing our ass off at the Batacuda Sound Machine concert- a Brazilian-inspired ten man band that gets everyone shakin' their hips like there's no tomorrow.


I need a bit of me time- I might just lay on this hill and stare into the sky for a while.


One of the highlights of the festival- the Xavier Rudd concert at the amphi theater. A one-man band that blows your mind and thousands of people dancing from the stage all the way up the hills under the skies. Unforgettable.



My partners in crime.


Someone's sponaneous art creation.


New Year's Eve. We felt it was our duty to go a little bit crrrrrazy. What a blast we had!


That's how my hair looked after one week of letting it go a bit crazy. I think I would look good as a rastafari too. It's not too far off.