It strikes me that I don't talk about God enough in my blog- seeing as He created the universe and everything in it, and I have the singular fortune of living in the apartment directly above

I'm having trouble getting my contact lens out. I play at it with my finger, rubbing my eyeball and trying to pinch it off. I move the lens a bit, and bubble it up. But I

I'm sitting on the tram on the way to work. I'm reading a short story by Truman Capote, and ignoring the people around me- they aren't important. A man come and asks

Here's an interesting half-conversation I heard as I was coming to work today. The conversant was an Irish woman on a pay phone, so please read this with a nice dutch accent. "I tell you,

I go with Mathias and his friend Jan to play squash. Improving on my rookie effort of the week before, I actually win some games. If I had to sweat on the court to do it, well, who

I get in in the morning, and Mathias has usurped my desk. The rest of the day, whenever he says "Let n be an integer," I belligerently refuse, insisting that it is very clearly a letter.

Having just finished my dinner doner, I am standing in Adleshof, waiting for the tram back to the Bergers' apartment in Karlshorst, when I am approched by a shaggy man. Man (something like): Eisen wien iesen schtraben?

I wait on platform 7 of Berlin Haustbahnoft, the central train station in Berlin. Mathias, for whom I am waiting, has already left, from Berlin Ostbahnoft, to the conference we were planning on going to. Deciding, after an