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Presidential picspam
May. 20th, 2008 09:18 am Sometimes, being a citizen of a small and relatively unimportant country does have its perks. One of them is that the Federal President isn't completely surrounded by paranoid security guards, and so you can just make a beeline for him at a reception, introduce yourself, tell him that you totally fangirl him and want your photo taken with him.
That's what we did last night, and it worked!!! Here's the proof (and yes, I do look quite stupid, but I freely admit to being one of the least fotogenic (that a word?) persons in the known universe)
I'm not usually fond of politicians, but our president certainly is the exception confirming the rule. He's such an easygoing, friendly, intelligent and absolutely straightforward and honest person, i.e. not your typical politician.
After Mr Fischer, we went on to harass our minister for social affairs, who turned out to be a great guy as well. We (i.e. the usual suspects) buttonholed him at a table in the smokers' foyer, and we talked about 15 to 20 minutes. Gabriele informed him that she'll be his escort today, and that she'd taken the names and addresses of all the important people he has to meet.
He: So you think we'll find our way?
G: Well yes, I hope so. If the driver knows where to go...
He: Oh, never mind. I'm only here to make small talk, nothing important. If we get lost, we'll just do someting else.
G: Hm, you could come to my place, have tea and meet my cats.
He: All right, but be warned, I didn't bring my stamp collection.
Then he went on to tell us that he'd been to the Life Ball (THE gay/lesbian event of the year) the day before and was still slightly the worse for wear.
Me: What did you dress up as?
He: An alien. I even shaved my chest.
Me: *raises brow* Shaved? You ought to know better - it'll itch like hell after 3 days. You should have epilated.
He promised to keep that piece of advice in mind.
Here's yours truly explaining the advantages of epilation to Mr Buchinger. As you can see, he's absolutely fascinated ;-) Jasmin, however, seems to have some doubts...
It was almost 11 p.m. by then, and two members of the president's staff asked us whether we'd like to join them at the bar fora last drink. And when they finally went to bed, Gabriele and I were joined by two Cobra policemen (Cobra is a special police unit which, among other things, provides security for the president), one of whom had been ogled by us the whole night, since he was extremely dishy. Extremely. And so it was 1.30 a.m. when we finally left.
And I am OMG sooo tired. It could be worse, if I had a hangover. It's merely lack of sleep, but I've discovered a wonderful way to feel better after only 3 hours of sleep (only 3, because I had to phone Janine when when I got home, and tell her all about the reception, and then I had to watch a bit of TV to unwind): I sleep on the couch instead of in my bed, clothed and with the TV on. I still sleep well, but not as deeply as I would in bed, and so wake up more easily and don't feel totally destroyed.
Tonight I'll have an early night though. And tomorrow the visa department will be open again and everyday life will start anew.
That's what we did last night, and it worked!!! Here's the proof (and yes, I do look quite stupid, but I freely admit to being one of the least fotogenic (that a word?) persons in the known universe)
I'm not usually fond of politicians, but our president certainly is the exception confirming the rule. He's such an easygoing, friendly, intelligent and absolutely straightforward and honest person, i.e. not your typical politician.
After Mr Fischer, we went on to harass our minister for social affairs, who turned out to be a great guy as well. We (i.e. the usual suspects) buttonholed him at a table in the smokers' foyer, and we talked about 15 to 20 minutes. Gabriele informed him that she'll be his escort today, and that she'd taken the names and addresses of all the important people he has to meet.
He: So you think we'll find our way?
G: Well yes, I hope so. If the driver knows where to go...
He: Oh, never mind. I'm only here to make small talk, nothing important. If we get lost, we'll just do someting else.
G: Hm, you could come to my place, have tea and meet my cats.
He: All right, but be warned, I didn't bring my stamp collection.
Then he went on to tell us that he'd been to the Life Ball (THE gay/lesbian event of the year) the day before and was still slightly the worse for wear.
Me: What did you dress up as?
He: An alien. I even shaved my chest.
Me: *raises brow* Shaved? You ought to know better - it'll itch like hell after 3 days. You should have epilated.
He promised to keep that piece of advice in mind.
Here's yours truly explaining the advantages of epilation to Mr Buchinger. As you can see, he's absolutely fascinated ;-) Jasmin, however, seems to have some doubts...
It was almost 11 p.m. by then, and two members of the president's staff asked us whether we'd like to join them at the bar fora last drink. And when they finally went to bed, Gabriele and I were joined by two Cobra policemen (Cobra is a special police unit which, among other things, provides security for the president), one of whom had been ogled by us the whole night, since he was extremely dishy. Extremely. And so it was 1.30 a.m. when we finally left.
And I am OMG sooo tired. It could be worse, if I had a hangover. It's merely lack of sleep, but I've discovered a wonderful way to feel better after only 3 hours of sleep (only 3, because I had to phone Janine when when I got home, and tell her all about the reception, and then I had to watch a bit of TV to unwind): I sleep on the couch instead of in my bed, clothed and with the TV on. I still sleep well, but not as deeply as I would in bed, and so wake up more easily and don't feel totally destroyed.
Tonight I'll have an early night though. And tomorrow the visa department will be open again and everyday life will start anew.
