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my cookies & my lovely new food processor

i can’t seem to stop baking! and yet i wonder why my “diet” isn’t really working the way i want it to be. hmm. my excuse is that i’ve just got a new food processor (which i love) and, of course, a lot of time on my hands.

today i walked along the rhine by myself for the first time. every time i come into the city, i spend most of my time exploring the city center or breite strasse near what james calls “apple sauce” (appellhofplatz), my new favorite area; i’d almost forgotten about the river. it was quite grey and very calm. and though it can’t possibly compare to the ocean (no salty aroma for one thing), it was nice to hear that lovely shushing sound of the water lapping against the ships and the dock.

it was my first day of therapy with tanya, and with her directions, i found the rhine from her office and walked back to the hofbahnhof to catch the train (stopping for coffee and a croissant, of course).

i’m not sure how it went – filling out her initial assessment form, i realized that it has been quite a long time since i last had therapy. in fact, since just after university. i guess, like everything else, i’ve been committed to it off and on. which is probably a very large part of my problem.

i got there early (thanks to the years of influence my husband has had on me, i’m sure) and rang the buzzer. no answer. so, of course, i have a dilemma: do i ring again? and if so, will i be bothering her while she’s with another client? or will i seem obnoxiously impatient? when is the appropriate time to ring again? then i actually thought, what if she’s watching me now and this is all some sort of psychological test (crazy). so i immediately rang the buzzer again, just to prove that i was not too obsessed with what other’s thought to ring a bell. of course, right then, she rode up on her bicycle. had it been a psychological test, i obviously failed.

the flat was very quaint, from the exposed floorboards to the yellow polka-dotted glasses placed on the table should her clients want water (mit Gas, klar…). she also told me that she usually followed standard german custom, which was to remove one’s shoes inside, which i had not known, and that i was welcome to as well. she had a bin of comfortable slippers besides the chair in the entryway. i sat in her kitchen-cum-waiting room for a few minutes, while she “pottered” around (i always wonder how the british ‘potter’ became ‘putter’ for us.) and then went into her office.

the room was quite sparse, but comfortable. the chairs themselves feel a bit too thrift storey, leaving much to be desired in terms of visual appeal, but they were comfortable enough. she did that thing where she nodded her head and shaped her mouth as if she really understood me and could empathize with whatever i was feeling (said just so, markedly) that i find particularly annoying, though i’m sure i would do it as well. besides that, i found her pleasant enough (i do love the irish brogue).

therapists always latch on to leslie and that surprises me. though, i do think there are remnants of her voice in my head (i still have a problem wearing black, and though i blame all those years at aveda, i know it’s her telling me i didn’t look good in it), i’m just always taken aback that they seem to key right in, without my having said anything accusatory. as if the connotations of the word godmother aren’t at all related to the fairy sort.

i also mentioned so you think you can dance, which is just sort of embarrassing. but i can’t help how much i love it. i find the confidence of dancers just gorgeous – the way they carry themselves as if they are so comfortable within their own bodies. i would love to know that feeling. and of course, my relationship with dance and with my body is also directly related to leslie. there’s something in me that would love to start over and take dance lessons now – though i’m not sure if my mom would buy me another tutu.

all in all, i would say, outlook: hopeful.

i’ve been waiting for jennifer to get online this whole time, thinking she’s forgot me, when in actuality, i got the time wrong. how long have i been living in this time zone? and i forgot that it was nine hours difference? must be all that sugar in the cookies going to my head…

and on that note, just a lil’ something from my favorite show. 🙂