Quarter Life Crisis

The world according to Sven-S. Porst

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490 words on

We used to have that really weird group of christian girls living below us. As christians go, they were trying to be really nice and all, too nice in fact, but they were way weird. Like when they had been selling coffee at uni and asked everybody in the house whether they wanted some of the leftover coffee… or when they were following their favourite pasttime of playing the guitar (acoustic guitar, hence loud) and singing along for the greater glory of their god or some such thing. Now I’m all in favour of loud music. Even at night time. But when once my flatmate really needed to sleep and rang their bell to ask them to be a bit more quiet, they flatly refused to open the door because, well, the whole ringing a door in the middle of the night, they seemed to consider inappropriate, and opening it to a ‘stranger’ (who’s living next door) seemed dangerous.

Ah well, they moved out. Which probably also means we won’t see little parcels sent from places which sound like strange American sellers of christian devotionalia anymore. And instead a family moved in. And they’ve been very active in the short time they’ve been living here. Doing things like mow the lawn in the garden and playing there. They even ‘discovered’ that there’s a plum tree in the garden, picked the ripe plums and shared them with everybody. Which is rather nice… but forced me to make another plum cake today, so the nice and ripe plums don’t go off.

Unfortunately that wasn’t as easy as it should be. Not only were they out of fresh yeast at the supermarket and I had to get the dry stuff (which I’ve never used before), but also the dry yeast didn’t seem to work as well or as quickly as the fresh yeast, so waiting for the dough to rise took ages and I could only start baking the cake around 11. And then – with the plums all being perfectly ripe and even on the verge of being overly ripe – the ‘bad thing about plum cake’ happened: The juice started running out of the ripe plums and finding its way off the baking tray, dripping into the hot oven. That leaves very hard to remove stains in the oven. Eeek. I tried to clean things a bit immediately before it’s stuck there for eternity, but of course I mainly managed to burn myself in the process. Nothing dramatic, but just the kind of itch that makes it hard to sleep.

So instead I gave the MacBook another pimping. This time with the pink plastic pig which luckily has metal feet and an ever so handy pen.

MacBook with a pink pig stuck the magnet a the top left and a pen stuck to the magnet on the right.

Why not join the fun? I guess that many more silly things can be done with the magnets. So do them, take a photo and add it to the Pimp My MacBook! group on flickr.

August 22, 2006, 2:07

Tagged as macbook, macbook pimping.

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