Sexy

When friends and blogthings agree something surely is amiss.

Your Vibe Is Secretly Sexy

Sexy isn't exactly a word you'd use to describe yourself But you have a quite allure that certain men feel appealing You don't need to flaunt your stuff to be sexier A little more confidence in yourself, and you'll really light up a room!

What Kind of Sexy Girl Vibe Do You Have?

Run

First there was life at L.M. street without big sister, soon there will be life in this house without Allie. With Miss H. at her boyfriend's place half the time and Boss gone to Big Town pretty much every weekend and in Ghently nightlife every other day of the week, the house is rather quiet and now that I've been accustomed to company also rather lonely.

But then again it is exactly as I should have been expecting. They're all running away from me as fast as they can, and why shouldn't they; I may pretend to be happy/fun/sweet I rarely ever am.

Proppian

Stumbling one day, I came across a fairy tale generator. How could I not share this joy with you?

A child playing in the dirt asked me, "Where did you get your shoes?"

"Sugar and spice," the old woman beckoned as she held out palms filled with cinnamon falling between her fingers like sand. As she sprinkled it across the floor my head swum up in a dizzy spell of hunger. I could no longer control my feet moving towards the cheap gimmicks of an old woman.

"What weighs you down will make you drown," he said with a loud crescent shaped grin. I believed him. I may have been a fool but with my head thrown asunder by the crashing tides of water I took off my shoes and bag and threw them across the stream on the other bank.

The girl knelt down at my feet, pressing her furry costume against my skin. "Please help me," she said, and kissed one foot. She kissed the other. And when I looked down I found both the leather-bottomed shoes gone and bare toes remaining. They froze in the mountain wind. At my feet a white wolf with childlike eyes stared up at me, grinned, and ran off with two shoes in her jaws.

I never strayed too far from home because the thought of father returning home always came back to me. But when air blew away the last remnant of his scent I knew he would not return. So I set out, again, watching my mother's stomach sink into the floor. I did not turn my head as I heard the people pull her into the ground.

A woman from the mountain dressed in dragon scales walked down towards me. Her feet were as bare as mine but that did not seem to matter, because wherever she stepped her feet did not make a sound. "I hear of a man who can perform miracles. He walks across the soil without danger and carries with him his father's ring. Are you this man?"

I pulled the needle out of where it would cause harm, and happy that I did so.

The fairy placed a single seed in my palm which I immediately planted and tended to for months. For days, I watered the seed, showered it with words of encouragement as it grew into a young sprout, and gave it proper space and care as it blossomed fully into a magnificent red rose that granted any wish that I whispered lovingly into its soft petals.

As I fought blindly as callow youths do, a white bird flew by my side and attached a feather to my bleeding wounds. They began to heal instantaneously.

Through the blind frenzy of earth and shadows I plunged my dagger into the creature's heart and watched as it melted into rain.

Waves of comfort and relief washed over my tired limbs as my father and mother embraced and kissed me. The familiar sights of my home and scents of my family soothed me so much that I nearly forgot the heavy pack I had carried for hours on my back, a sack filled with treasures I had collected throughout my journey to bring back to my family.

As the soil on me continued to turn into gold, the ground of our garden sprouted trees, fruits, and vegetables. My family and I stared in a daze as we watched our land grow rich and the people of the soil draw away.

Happy Gap

I had a post lined up called "Happy Gap" about the discrepancies between what makes me happy and what makes other people happy. And because I'm a lazy lousy loser I'm just going to type something entirely different under the same title, or maybe not so entirely different.

As you may collect from posts bellow I have been not entirely overjoyed off late, but as the people who've seen me in real life might have noticed I'm not at all as miserable as I may have made you believe. And I wonder why for there is plenty of gloom in my life. Did I say plenty? Because I, of course, simply meant no more gloom than other people deal with more likely even less but considering my true self, I have been too joyous. Strange and wondrous though this may be, one thing in particular nags me; I am not constantly oblivious to pain of life. But no matter how sad and lonely I feel behind my desk, by the time I've walked down the stairs I'm smiling, hopping, dancing, humming again. And what I wonder most about is; is it the actual surviving walking down the stairs that are in dire need of repair or is it the life and people waiting for me down the stairs that cheer me so excessively.

There and back again

Utter miserability always keeps a place for me. It beats waking up dancing to a tune in my head but now the song has died and I feel something like regret.

Soon

I'm quite sure that pretty soon I'll be almost certainly out of love with he-that-I-must-not-speak-of. But then what? There's still plenty of cute/nice/intelligent/good-looking/attractive men* around and I'm happy of late, I'm bound to fall in love again which I'm not sure I could handle, I'd really like some peace and quiet.

* Don't make me repeat it, happy or not it still burns my tongue to speak well of a man.

Alarming

Sounds alarmingly like me. What am I going to do when this happiness ends? That I wonder.

It's a conspiracy

I cannot disclose too much information just yet, but for those involved: "I'm on to you guys. And you'll never win because I'll never let you. I'll poke out my own eyes with extra sharp toothpicks before I'll let you win."

For more/happier notes check back tomorrow or watch below.

Gelukkige Verjaardag*

I could have done no less to celebrate white princess's 23rd year on the planet, making my being here so much more bearable.


* Dutch for 'Happy Birthday'

Cats

I could have used a wake-up call like that.

Too many feelings

In between relief, happiness, confusion, self-hate and anticipation there isn't much left for me to feel.

I don't know how many of you need further explanation of any of the above, it's complicated.


Relief of some sort that I finally got the word 'friendship' out. Happy or the closest to happy I've been since 11 march 2005 because for once I did not wake up hoping I hadn't. Confusion all-round because what I did think was how nice it is to get along with boys. Self-hate because that's not a feeling for me it's part of my character and finally anticipation which I can live with, looking forward to friends coming over for ice-cream and port rocks.

Stuffing

I've stuffed myself on a twice-a-day basis this past week. The result of which is that I've gone down a bra size and my jeans are no longer perfectly tight but annoyingly loose*.

If any readers know of weight reducing qualities in any of the following foods, let it be known.

• mascarpone
• dark chocolate
• vegan ice cream
• white rice
• black tea
• green tea
• tomato sauce
• spinach
• salmon
• olives
• pasta
  
• champaign
• Mexican beer
• cheese
  
• chocolate cake
• scrambled eggs

* all my thin yet dieting friends: I'm still two dress sizes ahead of you, I don't want to hear (jealous) complaints

Support Love

As yet, I'm not entirely sure what is means exactly but I'm very interested in the leftest pictogram of the bottom row.

More boy joy

Earlier this week it was posed that even I most know of some use for men. If the former post was not the answer the inquisitive soul was looking for, maybe it will please him to know that I think they're great for cuddling too.

Joy Joy Joy

Men, they're not entirely useless. Three day ago I met one with whom I can talk sensibly about jazz. Yesterday I had the intense pleasure of being introduced to one who gives great advice. This morning I found a handwritten note from Allie ( letters however short nearly always make my days) on the breakfast table. And this afternoon Boss fixed the failing audio equipment of my computer. A clear case of Wiiiiiiiiiie-ness if ever I saw one. And to celebrate all this here is a youtube clip of aforementioned musician playing the ukelele.

Crushing

That was about all I needed. And maybe I shouldn't be posting this, but then again who reads this blog anyway?

You've Got a Bit of a Crush

Maybe your guy friend is a crush of convenience - easy enough to happen Did you just break up with someone? Or are you more lonely than usual? If no to both, then this small crush could be the real deal. Find out if he feels the same - because he just might!

Are You Crushing on Him (And Don't Even Know It)?

Name your bike - part two

First of all; Allie does not object to being mentioned on this blog.

Secondly; he has authorised the disclosure of his old bike's name. Which would be Norbert.

Thirdly; he allows it so on one condition and it is that I mention his newly "found" mountain bike also. He be known as " Frankie"

Check Mate

Three consecutive wins, is it the lasting aura of a red-winged horse or was my opponent so very tired and distracted? Until we battle again I can but guess. Should you wonder; the worthy competitor was Miss H. Who (as I have since last had opportunity to speak with her) by no means objects to being mentioned hereabouts. Nor do any other of my house sharers, as long as I strike a positive note.

Life is short

I've just stumbled upon this. Cute and true, what more could I want? Maybe something less confronting. I am in love and I went telling, well we all know how that ended.

Candle Making

I've been so busy telling you about my newest house mate that I forgot to mention another house mate of mine, possibly I was too busy reading to notice much that she was around and if Miss H was talk to her, I had much to fear when I knew her less but now I am fully put at ease.

She likes making candles. How cool a hobby is that?! How big is the chance of arriving in a house with four other occupants and getting along with all of them? Not very big if you're me. And still I've managed it somehow, even being friendly to the boys costs me surprisingly little effort. We'll see what winter gloom brings I guess.

English is Tough Stuff

Dearest creature in creation
Study English pronunciation
I will teach you in my verse
Sounds like corpse, corps, horse and worse.
I will keep you, Suzy, busy
Make your head with heat grow dizzy.
Tear in eye you dress will tear.
So shall I! Oh hear my prayer.

Just compare heart, beard, and heard,
Dies and diet, lord and word,
Sword and sward, retain and Britain.
(Mind the latter, how it's written.)
Now I surely will not plague you
With such words and plaque and argue.
But be careful how you speak:
Say break and steak, but bleak and streak;
Cloven, oven, how and low,
Script, receipt, show, poem and toe.

Hear me say, devoid of trickery,
Daughter, laughter, and Terpsichore,
Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles,
Exiles, similes, and reviles;
Scholar, vicar, and cigar,
Solar, mica, war and far;
One, anemone, Balmoral,
Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel;
Gertrude, German, wind and mind,
Scene, Melpomene, mankind.

Billet does not rhyme with ballet,
Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet.
Blood and flood are not like food,
Nor is mould like should or would.
Viscous, viscount, load and broad,
Toward, to forward, to reward.
And your pronunciation's OK
When you correctly say croquet,
Rounded, wounded, grieve and sieve,
Friend and fiend, alive and live.

Ivy, privy, famous; clamour
And enamour rhyme with hammer.
River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,
Doll and roll and some and home.
Stranger does not rhyme with anger,
Neither does devour with clangour.
Souls but foul, haunt but aunt,
Font, front, wont, want, grand, and grant,
Shoes, goes, does. Now first say finger,
and then singer, ginger, linger,
Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, gouge and gauge,
Marriage, foliage, mirage, and age.

Query does not rhyme with very,
Nor does fury sound like bury.
Dost, lost, post and doth, cloth, loth.
Job, nob, bosom, transom, oath.
Though the differences seem very little,
we say actual but victual.
Refer does not rhyme with deafer.
Foeffer does, and zephyr, heifer.
Mint, pint, senate and sedate;
Dull, bull, and George ate late.
Scenic, Arabic, Pacific, Science, conscience, scientific.

Liberty, library, heave and heaven,
Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven.
We say hallowed, but allowed,
People, leopard, towed, but vowed.
Mark the differences, moreover,
Between mover, cover, clover;
Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,
Chalice, but police and lice;
Camel, constable, unstable,
Principle, disciple, label.

Petal, panel, and canal,
Wait, surprise, plait, promise, pal.
Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, chair,
Senator, spectator, mayor.
Tour, but our and succour, four.
Gas, alas, and Arkansas.
Sea, idea, Korea, area,
Psalm, Maria, but malaria.
Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean.
Doctrine, turpentine, marine.

Face, but preface, not efface.
Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.
Large, but target, gin, give, verging,
Ought, out, joust and scour, scourging.
Ear, but earn and wear and tear
Does not rhyme with here but ere.
Seven is right, but so is even,
Hyphen, roughen, nephew Stephen,
Monkey, donkey, Turk and jerk,
Ask, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.

Pronunciation � think of Psyche!
Is a paling stout and spikey?
Won't it make you loose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?
It's a dark abyss or tunnel:
Strewn with stones, stowed, solace, gunwale,
Islington and Isle of Wright,
Housewife, verdict and indict.

Finally, which rhymes with enough �
Though, through, plough, or dough, or cough?
Hiccough has the sound of cup.
My advice is to give up!!

Name your bike - part one

A conversation I lately had with the new house mate (whom I shall henceforth refer to as Allie until permission is given to use his full name or any other name I had in mind) sparked intrigue. He told me how fond he was of his bike, I asked for it's name and without as much as a millisecond pause he said N££££££*. I think my heart must have stopped beating two seconds.

Oblivious to the fact that I might not be the only known (to myself) person that names his/her bike I assumed I was the only one. As this is plainly not the case I've started a little inquiry but to no avail. So far Allie and I stand alone.

Just in case you wondered mine's name is Ronald.

* for the full name of said bike too you shall have to wait, surely I cannot reveal such intimacies with written approval of the person concerned

Free Hugs

There may have been times that I could have used a hug and didn't get one. but for the times I got one unsollicited this is a little thank-you-all cartoon.

I have a bike (continued)

Three days of adaptation and my reflexes resemble those of a native.

Read: I don't brake for cars I expect them to slow down for me. I don't care about red lights or police vehicles, my only bosses are seven point five ton trucks. I have a right to sneer at pedestrians and motorcyclists alike. I don't need to get up early, I can cycle anywhere and going home for lunch isn't a complete waste of time. Hills were probably made for cycling down but nonetheless it's fun to overtake old ladies while riding uphill.

I so love my bike. Almost as much as I love my newest house mate. Almost. It's pretty hard to find a man so tea-knowledgeable whereas you can find a bike pretty much everywhere.

Quote #11

I had no post in mind today, let alone something as boring and stupid as a quote, but this one was just to good, not to post:

To my mind, the only possible pet is a cow. Cows love you ... They will listen to your problems and never ask a thing in return. They will be your friends forever. And when you get tired of them, you can kill and eat them. Perfect.

Bill Bryson

Unsad

I realise full well that I have not been my gloomy self lately. Tonight I have heard from several sources how well it becomes me and how nice it is to see me happy for a change. Which is what nags me. I wouldn't have defined myself as being happy just not so sad any more.

This being said made me think and with me thinking irreversibly shifts my mood to gloom, not enough to make me sad just somewhat less happy again.

Munich

That's the name of our wireless network and as off today I -or rather Rudy- can connect. Who needs more cause for cheering.

I have a bike

I have a bike

I have a beautiful second-hand blue bike

His name is Ronald and didn't cost so much

I love to ride him along the canal

And it's the bestest blue bike of them all.

With excuses for the very poor poetry, but I'm somewhat excited about my new bike. I've started my sixth year at university in this town and yet today is the first time I've ridden a bike in it. Quite shocking.

Miffy

In the off chance anyone cares, this T-shirt looks the way I feel.

Need more blogs

A friend of mine has more blogs than I have. Ill though I may feel, friendly though I may be towards the opposite sex, drained from inspiration though I might already appear, surely I cannot let this pass?! It is as if hearing someone has more lip balm than me. It just ain't right.

What is wrong with me?

There must be something going on.

Not only have I lately abstained from insulting every man I meet, I have been friendly even to the sort of guy that in twilight looms around parks and asks single women for their number even though they show no sign of interest, I have postponed going shopping to eat a long breakfast and have a nice chat with my new male housemate, I have admitted missing someone whom I have in the past two years (in no particular order) loved, thought I loved, massaged, disliked, ignored, avoided, liked, befriended, wanted to kill howibly howibly, I have spent time chatting to a guy I hardly know about his ill girlfriend when I could have been reading, I am as yet convinced that I am still in love but still it doesn't really matter he ignores my existance.

There MUST be something going on.


I might have to take this course.

Paper... and a pen if you please.

Pretty damn close, I'd say. Let's hope I don't let everyone write all over me.

You Are Paper

Crafty and creative, you are able to adapt freely to almost any situation. People tend to underestimate you, unless they've truly seen what you are capable of. Deep down, you're always scheming and thinking up new plans. Your mind is constantly active. You are quite capable of anything you dream of. You can always figure out a way to get what you want. You can wrap a rock person up in your sheet of trickery. A scissor person can sneak up and cut you to pieces. When you fight: No one can anticipate your next move If someone makes you mad: You'll attack them mercilessly when they're unprepared

Are You Rock, Paper, or Scissors?

Ice Cream Poll

A new enquête for those who'd care. Don't be shy.

Lasagne or ...

I was very very tempted only yesterday to claim a computer and rant rant rant on the lack of consideration so often professed by my closest relations. Alas, I was already late for a friendly gathering with mucho food and liquor. As I walked there on hardly adequate shoes and downright angry (as some passers by might have concluded from my muffled mutterings)my feelings were by no means improving, all of which melted however once I was seated near a not unhandsome dark-haired man- though it might also have been the lasagne.

Today, I have been, despite still inadequately shoed in windy rainy circumstances, felt well. Quite well. Untill the utterings of blonde drove me in the direction of my usual MHM*.Which only goes to show that, though a man might make me happy, he probably won't.

*Man Hating Modus