1. This tote bag I bought at the Mozart museum. While it promotes the idea of the consumer society which I don’t exactly cultivate, it is so like Mozart, with his love of red robes and all, really.
2. Reading this book. It’s really promising. I’m on page 21 yet, and the protagonist of the novel has already made his point about his deep hate of 1) Jews 2) German people 3) French people 4) Italian people 5) clergy in general 6) Jesuits in particular 7) women, totally clear. I’m thrilled to find out whom else he plans to hate on the following 489 pages.
3. Living in this house.
4. The absence of fire alarm in my kitchen. Having an extraordinarily sensitive fire alarm in my previous apartment made my life really difficult there. After my epic first meeting with the firemen and the police, who made their visit at my flat while I was peacefully baking some flourless cookies and dancing to Disko Partizani in my pajamas (the perfect example of the half-witted pyromaniac immigrant with a shitty taste of music, whose existence alone manages to ruin the morals of Holy Motherland of Austria), I ended up eating almost exclusively raw food most of the time.
5. Kitchen windowsill herbs. I’m not a plant person (my mother has somehow forgotten to pass her gardening genes on to me), so I hope they will survive.
6. Homemade elderflower cordial with (windowsill) lemongrass, my first experiment with food preserving. It tastes pretty much like plain water. My carreer chances as a celebrity cook aren’t that high, I guess.
7. More elderflower for a new (hopefully better) try.
