There are interesting things one gets sent, like some statistics of one of my long-time readers and cyber partners, which strikes me as unusual and quite fascinating. He did a word count of my blog to find out what is used most, giving a selection of what he thinks relevant:

Phillip 582, Elsie 371, love 352, life 344, Joerg 280, wonderful 246, body 239, sex 199, myself 197, friends 193, jacuzzi 165, Tanja 163, Angelika 150, pretty 136, Maria 113, hard 111, sexual 99, Aldo 99, skin 97, cock 96, naked 90, cum 87, Ruth 81, mother 77, wife 71, fun 71, pleasure 69, orgasm 62, panties 59, fuck 59, married 56, awkward 56, erotic 51, nude 47, excited 45, thongs 41, horny 40, fantasy 39, tears 37, sexy 36, elf 36, desires 36, fucked 34, undressed 33, threesome 27, condom 26, breasts 26, fucking 22, catholic 22, condoms 20, and so on (I guess he left out "school" on purpose because this must have been very close to the top).

Phillip first, and then my friends; 'myself' quite soon, as well as love, life, body and sex. Isn't this pretty wonderful, and so close to reality? Naked, skin, hard, cock, and cum next - and pleasure. The word awkward seems to be my favourite when things become - well - awkward. More fuck than married, more condom than catholic - that's me, it seems.

Thanks, S., for your research of my word power.

My health is definitely better today and I am all set to go to school. The reason why I have to be there is the staff meeting at 4.30 pm.; there is a good chance that the headmaster will make an announcement about how to fill in the position of head of language department. It will be interesting how he is going to word it: he usually gives some hints in such a situation that he has already asked someone he thinks might be able to do it, and if my name is mentioned, I'll better be there. I know this does not sound really fair, but the job is not publicly advertised and rather an internal affair. And his Eminency has the power to appoint.

At the moment, I am doing everything not to let depression overcome me too much. What have I missed. What have I missed. How could I. Maria is away again, I had a mail this morning which said flying had been wonderful yesterday, yet very short and cold, and she hoped I was better. We will certainly not meet again before Christmas. I'll be a married woman by then. Will it matter for her? I told her on Saturday and she wished me luck rather indifferently - or so I felt.

I know that life is mainly a series of opportunities not chosen, but do they have to be like this?

There are moments one would love to be quiet about. I first thought I would just lie and tell my NN - friends a fantastic story about a night in heaven - the way they certainly expected, because I had given the impression this was to come. Instead I went through a night of terrible weakness. I already had a slight headache when I arrived. Like always we did not just fall into each others arms and onto the bed, but started to tell things about our lives since we met last.

We went into the restaurant of the hotel and ordered something nice, but soon I noticed I could hardly eat anything. First I thought it was just my excitement, but it wasn't. It was something like the beginning of flu. I had a slight temperature, a bad headache and worst of all, I had to vomit all through the night, until I finally found sleep in the small hours of the morning. Maria was very nice and caring, putting a cold wet rag on my brow and making me some tea now and then.

When I woke up exhausted and weak, she was already dressed for her flight meeting. She ordered me to stay in bed and sleep some more and not come to the flying range to wait in the cold. That's what I did - after being kissed on the forehead, and then Maria was gone.

I phoned Phillip and was glad to find him at home. I told him all on the way home in the car, and he commiserated, and then he said we both seemed to have had a lousy time. He had actually managed to arrive on top of the trainee journalist in bed, but she had lain there like a wooden board and neither moved nor made any sound. She had also never given head before and said she would not do anything so revolting. And then it seems that she considered herself Phillip's girlfriend and wanted to go to the cinema with him tonight. And when he said he had thought they were only having some good old fun together, she shed some tears and complained that men were always like this with her.

He is in the office now and I tried to sleep a little, but could not. But after typing this I might be a little more tired and maybe I can have a rest, because I must get well as I can't be away from school tomorrow.

It is certainly awkward for someone who will be married in six weeks - but I hope it's true that what does not kill our love, makes it stronger.

I'll be walking out of my house and to the busstop in two hours' time, carrying a little suitcase with me. Phillip offered to take me and I would have saved more than an hour, but I insisted on public transport. I didn't want him and Maria to meet - which hurt him a little. He said that because he "had some unexpected time tonight" (hear, hear) he would maybe accompany one of the young trainee journalists (female, of course) to an assignment.

No, I can't be like that - I cannot worry. Not tonight. Not tonight of all nights. So tonight he can assign whatever his desire is and I will be glad for him when it brings him satisfaction and most possibly the feeling a predator has at the sight of his prey. At the moment, for the most personal and private reasons imaginable, I am just very, very excited.

So if you happen to wake up tonight (for example in 12 hours from now - it will be midnight then) I will allow you for a moment to imagine me in Maria's arms, if you keep your fingers crossed that all goes well.

That's the way we will have looked yesterday, too, Joerg, Elsie and me - underwater. It's a vintage pic Grisi took last year (who will remember her?) Above the surface and invisible here are our grinning faces and a Joerg's hand with a glass of Champagne. I love the reflexes in the water and the lights. On the left is me, and on the right (just visibly shaved) is spreading Elsie.

It was just as romantic last night, but bitter cold. We were alone again, without Johanna. My friends seem to have overcome their first shock, and there is little they can do. In a way it seems to bring them closer together again, so there was a lot of tenderness and quiet eroticism in the air, although I didn't take part much. When they could not hold back longer and started to make love on their bed afterwards, I quietly left soon.

Next to me here in my study, on my spare bed, there is an open suitcase. What am I going to pack for my two days with Maria? As if this was a problem - but still. The weatherforecast is good, and there may be some flying - so I better take along some warm and woolly ski tights. For when we are in the hotel room together, I hope I do not need much more than a whiff of my perfume ...

There is snow all around - not much, but the landscape has turned white, and the temperature is below freezing. I have heard that trains and buses are late because of the ice. My busride is not too long, and they usually clean the road up here pretty well because of the many commuters, so I should not have a problem. I have already taken my snowboots out of the cellar wardrobe and also my warmest winter coat. It's unusual that it is so wintry so early, they even plan to open the skiing season when the weather is good at the weekend.

What I like best: Jacuzzi in the snow. We'll go naked and barefooted through Joerg and Elsie's garden again and look at the pretty snowed-in plants, before hopping into the warmth. So the evening it bound to be a great pleasure (let's hope so at least).

After reading Willy Russell's play "Educating Rita" with one of my honours classes, we watched the fanastic and funny 1983 film of it with Michael Caine and Julie Walters - and it touched me to tears again. It reminded me so much of when I saw it for the first time as a student myself.

Rita is a young hairdresser who wants to get out of her drab surroundings and hopes to achieve this with the help of education, so she goes to Open University and meets her lecturer Frank. She has a notion that there must be "better songs to sing" than those she is used to. But she first has to find out that her new life has just taught her "different, but not better songs", until she sees what is essential for her: it's choice that matters - being able to choose her own life and make her own decisions for her future. This is foremost what education can provide - giving young people a choice, so that the whole world is open to them.

Having a choice has always been very important for me, too. I could study what I wanted, I live where my roots are, I have enough money to buy myself whatever I want. I have had a free choice of sexual partners - and I always took what I felt like. I know that I have arrived at a stage now - as I am willing to get married - when I foresake some of it. My great hope is that by doing so I 'll win more than I lose.

Let's leave politics - it's something that mainly disturbs me and makes me uneasy, because I cannot understand most politicians' motives anyway. How big can an ego become before we must diagnose insanity?

This week is an ordinary working week mainly - nothing special. Phillip will be away Thursday and Friday; I'll go to Jacuzzi on Thursday if nothing comes in between. Phillip has encouraged me to stay with Maria at her hotel during the night to Sunday and go to the flying grounds with her if the weather permits any flying. There is snow now where they usally start and touch down, but this should not be a major problem when the sun is out and the winds calm.

One of his conditions for letting me go is that I tell him EVERYTHING afterwards - and I'll do that (as far as I think it's appropriate). The other one is that we get on arranging our threesome - although I have no clue with who. There is no-one I know with who I'd love to share this experience, really, and it's rather some possible bothersome consequences I fear than the sharing. All the what-ifs you are not sure about with a stranger. What if she's boring and not up to it? What if Phillip is the only guy who can make her cum, after an unresponsive time of 10 years' fucking? What if she wants to become pregnant (of all things)?

I suggested ordering an escort, and Phillip laughed first. But then, after some thinking, he said that this was not the worst of all possible ideas.

"I see your point clearly and if there is to be a remembrance the emphasis should be moved from celebrating victory to one of emphasising the desire of all the world's peoples to be at peace. Then perhaps your country and Germany could be included.

Because history interests me I have studied the wars extensively and I like to believe I have a balanced view of what took place. What is certain is that almost all those who fought and lived along with those who fought and died on all sides were plain hardworking ordinary, but good people, who worshipped the same god and aspired to a long and peaceful life".

Thank you for your words, dear D., because they are so close to what I feel about the wars, which are in a way our common history and in a way not. Thinking about them always makes me doubtful and insecure - what bothers me most are the feelings of patriotism which invariably come up with these things. It seems so difficult to see that the enemy are but patriots themselves - also in today's wars - who fight for exactly the same patriotic reasons.

Obviously, being a patriot is a good thing - this is what all our governments lead us to believe. But what if my ancestors had not been such fervent patriots - if they had kept a clear mind and opted for resistance and peace? What would this have made them? In the eyes of their friends? Of their government? Of the world? Or of you?

It's so easy to answer such questions in the confinement of one's home. It's so complicated if one tries to take a more global view.

Seeing all over NN and the net that there is Remembrance Day in many parts of the world, particularly all the English speaking countries, I am conscious that I live in a corner of the globe which does not commemorate. And when I see how people remember the victories of the Second World War who were not even born yet, it seems that I, who was not born then, either, still ought to feel like the enemy.

I am of course glad that the forces of democracy won the war, and I am greatful for that. But it makes me sad that in many countries people seem to remember all wars, defensive and aggressive ones, with the same patriotic fervour. In my eyes, everyone who begins a war is despicable.

Still it is awkward that here in the Catholic regions of the German speaking countries, on 11/11, 11:11 its the official beginning of Carneval, with costumes, queer, loud music and lots of good fun. I must say, however, that I never take part in it, because I am not much of a Carneval person.